“No. Oh no, no, no . . .” Ava chanted, her eyes wide and frightened as her own picture appeared.
“Police are calling this woman, Ava Michaels, a person of interest in the case. They stop short of calling her a suspect, but our sources say there is strong evidence linking Michaels to the murder of Officer Simmons. Mrs. Simmons herself says Michaels is the reason she left home on Saturday.”
A crying woman appeared on the screen, apparently Mrs. Simmons. “I’d suspected he was having an affair for some time. And when I found out it was with a student at the college, I confronted him about it. He admitted to being involved with that woman, and I was so angry.” She wiped at her eyes with a tissue. “He was going to break it off. He promised me. But I never thought . . .”
The woman dissolved into sobs, and Tiernan reached over to take the remote and click the television off.
Silence hung in the air, punctuated by Ava’s ragged breaths. “I can’t believe it,” she murmured.
“So.” Tiernan cleared his throat. “You knew him?”
“He . . . he helped me,” she said, still in a daze. “When you . . . when you came after me. He helped protect me.”
“And you . . .” Tiernan rubbed a hand over his shaved head. “You . . . and he . . . uh . . .”
“No!” Ava shot to her feet. “No, of course not! I don’t know what’s going on, but I didn’t have an affair with him. And I definitely didn’t kill—” She choked on a sob and sat down heavily on the bed. “Oh God, he’s dead. They think I killed him. What in the world is happening?”
Tiernan stared at her for a long moment. “It looks like someone’s trying to set you up.”
Ava swiped at her eyes. “But who? Why? I don’t understand any of this.”
He stood and paced across the room and back again. “Well, if none of this is true—”
“It’s not!” Her hands clenched into fists. “None of it.”
Tiernan nodded. “If that’s the case, whoever it is would need to manipulate the witnesses—”
“Someone saw me,” Ava said, half to herself as she remembered the neighbor peeking through the blinds. “I was there Saturday night, but it was dark. I didn’t think . . .” She rubbed at her temples and tried to think back.
“You were there?”
“I saw him,” Ava said quietly. “I talked to him.” She looked up at Tiernan, eyes bright with tears. “I had a dream. I thought someone was going to hurt him.”
Tiernan’s jaw tightened. “Looks like you were right.”
She laughed humorlessly. “Yeah . . . yeah. Good to know.” She stood, tangling her hands in her hair. “What am I going to do? I have to go back. Turn myself in, right? Try and clear my name?”
“I really don’t think that’s the best option.”
“But if I don’t, they’ll think I’m guilty.” She threw her hands in the air in frustration.
“I’ve got news for you. They already think you’re guilty.” At her irritated glare, he huffed and rolled his eyes. “Look, you shouldn’t do anything until we figure out what we’re dealing with here. Whoever’s behind this isn’t putting all his hope in one witness who happened to see you at that house. Someone pushed his wife, maybe even pushed Simmons, too.”
“Pushed? You think it’s Race?”
“Well, something made her think her husband was having an affair that never happened.”
Even in her panic, Ava felt a trace of relief that Tiernan seemed to believe her without question. “Who?” she asked, her mind whirling with possibilities. “The Council? Or maybe Rogues?”
“No way to know for sure. At least, not yet.”
“But why?” She looked up at Tiernan but he had no answers. Her gaze fell to her twisting fingers. “It’s got to be the Council.”
Tiernan frowned. “Think about it. The Council has no reason to do this. Why would they frame you for murder?”
“To get me to go to them for protection? Keep me locked up nice and tight in New Elysia?”
“Not really their style. To harm an innocent human violates Race Law.”
“You think that would stop the Council?”
Tiernan fixed her with a steady look. “The Council isn’t perfect, but it is dedicated to upholding the Law.”
Ava slumped back down onto the bed, her eyes fixed unseeing at the blank television screen. “So it has to be a Rogue.”
“That would be my guess,” Tiernan said. “And if that’s the case, this is only the beginning.” He pulled a chair over and sat down to face her. “What do they want with you?”
Ava sighed. The Council had asked her the same question endless times—she’d asked it herself—but she’d yet to come up with an answer. “I don’t know. Arthur, the Rogue who took me, he ranted about me having some higher purpose, being one of them. It didn’t make any sense. None of this makes any sense.”
Tiernan considered that for a long moment. “It’s possible some of the Rogues are joining forces. Maybe they hope you can help them.”
“Help them what?”
“Do what they do best. Cause trouble.” He sat back, crossing his arms over his chest. “At any rate, there’s nothing you can do right now. Not until we figure all of this out.”
She raised a brow. “ ‘We’?”
He shrugged. “The Rogues are a threat to the Race. Protecting the Race is my job. So . . . you just became my job.”
“Lucky me.”
“Look on the bright side,” he said, standing and crossing the room again to peer out the window. “You wanted to find Caleb. Now you know I won’t let you out of my sight until we do.”
“I repeat,” Ava said wryly. “Lucky me.”
Despite her anxiety, exhaustion won out, and Ava ended up curled up on the bed half-dozing as they waited for instructions from Andreas. The sun had just set when the call finally came, and Tiernan snapped his phone up off the table to answer it before Ava even realized it was ringing.
The call was brief, peppered by a couple of “Yes, sirs” from Tiernan, and Ava was wide awake when he finally hung up.
“Well?” she said as he stood up, shrugged on his jacket, and grabbed his bag.
“We go west.”
“West? That’s it?” She crammed her feet into her shoes and swept up her backpack, following him out the door, only to slam into his back. He shoved her back into the room unceremoniously and whipped the door shut, leaving barely a crack to peek out.
“What is it?” Ava whispered, trying to see under his arm and failing. She moved to the window to peer through a gap in the curtain.
“Don’t let him see you,” Tiernan snapped.
“Who?” Ava still couldn’t see anything—only the back of a car parked at the motel office.
A black and white car.
“Oh no.” She yanked the curtains closed, panic rising in her chest. “Is that the police?”
“It could be nothing.” Tiernan kept his voice low, still looking out the crack in the door. “Or . . .”
“Or?”
He glanced at her. “Or, it could be that the motel manager also watches the news.”
“Crap.” Ava ran her hands through her hair, tugging lightly before pulling it into a ponytail. “What are we going to do?”
Tiernan shut the door quickly, trying not to slam it. “He’s coming this way.” Tiernan headed for the bathroom, frowning when he spotted the tiny window over the toilet. Striding back into the room, he tossed his bag on the bed and squared his shoulders. “I’ll try not to hurt him too badly,” he said, meeting Ava’s frightened eyes.
“No!” She hurried back to the window, thinking quickly. “I think there’s another way.” She willed her heart to slow, reaching for her Race gift through the layers of panic and fear and freaking out. “Give me a second.”
“We don’t have a second.”
Ava ignored him, her gift swelling through her, responding to her call as she focused on the bumper of that black and white car. “Come on . . .
” she murmured. She envisioned the brake releasing . . . the gearshift sliding down to neutral . . .
“Ava?”
They could hear the footsteps approaching now . . . low voices . . .
The police car began to roll backward, and Ava’s lips curled into a victorious smile. The car turned, coming to a quick stop then started rolling forward. “That’s right, a little faster . . .” she whispered, pushing it with her gift.
A startled cry outside told her the diversion had worked, and she saw the police officer and motel manager running toward the car, chasing it as it rolled into the street.
“Now.” Ava hitched her backpack higher onto her shoulder. “Let’s get out of here.” She kept her focus on the car, increasing the speed as they ducked out of the motel room and headed in the opposite direction, keeping to the shadows.
“Nice job,” Tiernan said grumpily, as though it hurt him to say it.
Deciding that was the best she was going to get, she asked, “Where are we going?”
“I’m to check in every hour for directions,” he said, scanning the parking lot then setting off toward the center of town.
Ava trailed after him, hitching her backpack onto both shoulders and giving the police car one last push as it turned a corner heading away from town, the police officer running full speed behind it. “Shouldn’t we get out of town? That cop isn’t going to be kept busy for long.”
“We need a ride,” Tiernan said tersely. “It’s the only place to get one.”
“What about the sensor? I thought he was coming with us.”
“Apparently, he doesn’t need to.”
He strode quickly, but Ava knew he was holding back so she could keep up. Barely.
“He must be quite powerful. Andreas said he could track Caleb from where he is,” he said.
“Wow. That’s pretty impressive.” She jogged alongside him, her pack bumping against her back. “Can a lot of sensors do that?”
Tiernan was silent for a long moment. “He’s the first one I’ve heard of.”
He seemed a bit uncomfortable about that, and Ava wondered if it was because he was leery of the sensor’s power or because Tiernan had been unaware of his existence. She tended to lean toward the latter. Tiernan didn’t seem to be the kind of guy who liked to be caught off guard.
They came to the town’s main street, the storefronts on either side closing down for the night except for a restaurant and what looked like a biker bar. A slow grin eased onto Tiernan’s face when he spotted the bar.
He didn’t look at her, just threw a “Stay here,” over his shoulder before starting across the street.
“What are you going to do?”
“I’ll be right back,” he said. He slipped into the shadows as he neared the bar and disappeared inside.
“Oh, crap.” Ava glanced nervously up and down the street as she figured out his intent.
Tiernan lounged against the brick wall near the entrance, eyes wandering purposefully as people passed by. After a few moments, he walked into the bar, following a group of scruffy men in leather jackets.
Ava wrung her hands and stopped abruptly when she realized she was doing it, annoyed at the cliché. She started to cross the street then thought better of it, returning to a bookstore window and pretending to examine its contents. Her gaze darted to the bar entrance every few seconds while she kept an eye open for the police. Tiernan eventually emerged, glancing up and down the street before approaching a group of motorcycles. He hovered over them for a moment before he straddled one, the lights flipping on a moment before the engine roared to life. He pulled a wide turn in the road and stopped at the curb next to her.
“Get on,” he said, scooting forward a little on the seat.
“You can’t be serious,” she said, eyeing the bike with dread. “Those things are dangerous.”
He glanced over his shoulder. “Not as dangerous as the drunk guy I stole the keys from once he notices it’s missing.”
Ava’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah, like you’re really scared.”
To her surprise, Tiernan laughed.
“It looks kind of old,” she said, not getting any closer to the bike. It was big and shiny . . . with metal studs all along the seat. Definitely not her.
Tiernan practically caressed the bike as he ran his hand over the emerald-green gas tank. “Seventy-two Harley Softail. It’s a classic.” He reached back to pluck a black half-helmet emblazoned with a skull and crossbones off the backrest and held it out to her expectantly.
She frowned but took it, her stomach fluttering nervously as she buckled it on. “Don’t you have one?” she asked.
Tiernan revved the engine. “Quit stalling. Get on.”
Resigned, Ava did as she was told, wrapping her arms around Tiernan’s thick waist and clenching her eyes tightly shut as they sped out of town under the darkening sky.
They continued west, stopping every hour or so to stretch their legs and call Andreas, through South Dakota and across the Wyoming border, angling slightly north toward Montana. Then, after a late-night call, they were ordered to turn abruptly south at Sheridan.
“Sensor says Caleb’s trying to lose us,” Tiernan said, cracking his neck as he shoved his phone into his pocket and climbed back onto the bike.
Ava’s heart sank at his words. “Maybe he’s doing what I’m doing. Trying to find a way to clear his name.”
“Maybe.” Tiernan didn’t seem convinced, but to his credit, he didn’t challenge her. Instead, he jerked his head toward the back of the bike. “You coming?”
Ava yawned widely as she got on behind him.
“I hate to do it, but we’re going to have to ditch this bike,” he said. “We need to keep going, and you’re going to fall asleep and fall off.”
“No, I won—” Ava’s yawn gave her away.
Tiernan smirked and started the bike.
They traded the motorcycle for a Jeep at a park and ride at the edge of another nondescript town, then zigzagged their way southwest through Wyoming, stopping midmorning for a few hours of sleep at an isolated rest stop, and again that evening to fill up with gas and grab some food at a mini-mart in Riverton.
Tiernan’s phone rang as they wolfed down stale doughnuts and coffee. Ava was still exhausted, but she fought her drooping eyelids, swallowing the last of her coffee and retrieving another from the store while Tiernan spoke to whoever was on the other end. He was in the Jeep, its engine idling, when she returned.
“Caleb’s stopped,” he said, peeling out of the parking lot. “The sensor says he hasn’t moved in the last hour. He must think he’s lost us.”
Ava was suddenly alert, her stomach churning wildly. “Where is he?”
Tiernan checked the rearview mirror and stepped on the gas. “Utah. Andreas said the sensor’s closing in on a more precise location, but for now, we’re heading to Salt Lake City.”
Ava leaned against the passenger side window, snoring lightly, as they finally crossed the border into Utah.
The sky lightened, the second sunrise since Tiernan had gotten any decent sleep himself, and he yawned, shaking his head and blinking to try and stay alert. He picked up his phone, pressing the speed dial for Andreas as Ava sighed in her sleep next to him.
He had to admit the girl had impressed him a bit. Other than the need for conventional transportation, she’d been less of a burden than he’d expected. She did ask a lot of questions, which was annoying, and never failed to state her opinion, no matter how wrong or irritating, but overall, she was . . . not horrible.
He smirked at the thought, his expression growing grim as Andreas answered the phone.
“We’re a little over an hour out of Salt Lake City.”
“ ‘We’?” Andreas repeated, and Tiernan winced. He’d been so careful to avoid mentioning Ava until then. Obviously the lack of sleep was making him sloppy.
“Yes, sir,” he said, clearing his throat. “Ava Michaels is with me. She was . . . rather insistent about it.
” He wondered if he should relay his suspicions about Officer Simmons’ death and the Rogues, but to his surprise, Andreas laughed.
“I’ve known Miss Michaels was with you all along, Ross,” he said. “This sensor is surprisingly talented. He’s not only been tracking Caleb, but you as well. He recognized right away that you weren’t alone.”
“I’m sorry, sir. I should have mentioned it.”
“Yes, you should have,” Andreas said, his voice chilling. “You should also remember that keeping things from me—from the Council—is a futile effort and also one that could prove quite dangerous. For you.”
“Yes, sir.” He quietly relayed the information about the murder and Ava’s suspected involvement. “She claims innocence,” Tiernan said, glancing at Ava, who was still sleeping peacefully.
“Yes, well. She would, wouldn’t she?”
“She’s not a killer, sir.” Tiernan was a little surprised at how strongly he believed it. “Someone is setting her up.”
“Well, that is neither here nor there at the moment,” Andreas replied. “We’ll deal with the problems of Miss Michaels at a later time. Your priority is Caleb Foster. I’ve assured the rest of the Council you have matters well in hand. Do not prove me wrong, Ross.”
Tiernan bit back a retort. “Yes, sir.”
“There is some interference keeping the sensor from zeroing in on Foster’s precise location, but he is confident he will break through it soon,” Andreas said, the topic of Ava forgotten, at least for the moment. “I suggest the two of you find a place to lay low for a little while. Maybe get some sleep. You’ll need to be on your game to confront Foster. And Ross . . .”
“Yes?”
“Miss Michaels. Will she be a problem when it comes to Foster? I don’t need to remind you what your responsibility is in this situation, do I?”
“No, sir.”
“You’re to bring him to me. Will she try and stop you?”
“She’s not convinced he’s helping Rogues,” he said, watching his words in case Ava was listening. “She wants to talk to him. Her biggest concern is his safety.”
“Then you’ll convince her he’ll be safe here,” Andreas said shortly.
The MORE Trilogy Page 33