No Place Too Far

by Kay Bratt

  Jonah looked stricken. “And you think no one will know who you are? Sorry to tell you both, but Montana has internet these days.”

  “Of course they do,” Quinn said. “But if I up and leave, and there’s no confirmation that I am Nama, it’s just one more lost lead. I won’t be here for the questions to continue. On the mainland, I’m just another single woman with no family to speak of and no connection to Maui. Especially in Montana. To most of them cowboys up there, Hawaii is just a postcard dream.”

  Helen looked thoughtful. “I still think the truth would be better for this family.”

  “No, it wouldn’t,” Quinn said. “And I don’t want to be under the microscope if it comes out that my own family instrumented my estrangement. I want this inn to be successful, but not because people want to come see the girl who disappeared for thirty years. And think about it, if they can’t verify that I’m Nama, they can’t get the rest of the story and come after anyone. That would save you, Helen, and also keep the Rocha name from taking any more hits. Then Mom and Dad would be spared and not have to worry about losing their business, which would impact everyone’s livelihood.”

  “And you’re going to just up and leave and never see any of us again?” Jonah asked, his eyes clouding over as though thunder was coming.

  “I’m not saying it’s a bad idea,” Helen said. “But let’s slow down a minute and consider the pros and cons.”

  “Con number one: Mom would be devastated,” Jonah said softly. “It would kill her to lose you again.”

  That cut Quinn to the heart. “Yes, she’ll be sad, but after some time passes and the Maui media moves on to the next big story, she and Dad can visit. She’ll need to understand that I want to spare her any more pain from something she had no control over.”

  “She would also want you to be free to live a life of privacy,” Helen said. “A true mother will sacrifice her own needs for those of her children. Every time. She will see that other than me coming forward, it’s the only way.”

  Quinn’s head was spinning. Now that she’d spoken her idea out loud, it sounded so much harder. She would need to find a better way to explain it to Liam. “I need some time,” she said. “If you two could excuse me, I think I’ll spend the evening in here and just slow down and think this through.”

  Helen rose and Jonah made it to the door first, holding it open.

  They both paused, turning to Quinn.

  “I hope you’ll do the right thing,” Jonah said.

  Of course, she wanted to do the right thing. That’s what she’d been doing all her life, to the detriment of her own wants and needs. But Quinn knew she was slipping back into her old ways of trying to please everyone around her—a trait that had almost made her forget who she truly was. Did she really want to go back to being that person?

  “She will,” Helen said. “She’s got the Rocha blood raging through those veins. She’s smart, and she’s a survivor.”

  Jonah took her on one more time. His tone was respectful, as always, but firm. “She’s also a Monroe, and there’s not a one of us who would want to be landlocked away from the crashing waves of the sea. It’ll call out to her. It’s a part of us.”

  “Um, hello . . . ? I’m still right here,” Quinn said, waving a hand in the air. “It’s my decision to make.”

  “Sorry,” Jonah said, breaking his competitive gaze from his grandmother. “Come on, Grandmother. Quinn needs some time alone.”

  “Fine,” Helen said. “We’ve got two plans laid out, and now we just decide which way to go.”

  “I’ll think about it,” Quinn said. However, she knew she’d never pick a lane that would land an old woman in jail.

  “Yes, think hard on this, Quinn,” her brother said. “This is your life.”

  With that they were gone, and the door closed with a sharp click, leaving Quinn feeling like she’d just survived a tsunami of stress. So many decisions and barely any time to make them. The deadline was looming down on them quickly. She had to figure it all out.

  It was going to be a long evening.

  Chapter Twenty

  Maggie eased the bedroom door closed, leaving just an inch or two cracked in case Charlie woke up so she’d hear him. Thank you, Jesus, for melatonin gummies because this was one night that her son needed to hit the sack early. Woodrow was a huge help too. He’d curled up next to Charlie, somehow knowing that Maggie needed him there, watching over the most important thing in her life.

  She dialed the phone, whispered a request, then hung up and waited. Normally she was always moving in the evenings. Having a small child meant that until her head hit the pillow, there were a million things to get done. But tonight, all she could do was sit in the middle of her couch and clutch her phone.

  Panic. Fear. Anger.

  She didn’t have to wait long before she heard a gentle knock. Woodrow immediately came from the bedroom and put himself at the door, his stance a protective one.

  “Stay,” Maggie said. “No bark.”

  She went to the kitchen drawer first, grabbed the sharpest knife she had, then went to the door.

  “Who is it?” she leaned against the cool surface.

  “It’s me, Juniper.”

  Maggie hurried over and put the knife back in the drawer before opening the door. Juniper rushed in, and Maggie locked the dead bolt behind her.

  “Where’s Charlie?” Juniper said, looking around the small room.

  “In bed.”

  “You feeling better?”

  Maggie nodded, though to be honest, now she was feeling quite sick.

  “You said you needed to talk. What’s up?” Juniper asked, moving into the living room and plopping down on the sofa.

  “Quinn should be here any minute, and then I’ll tell you both together.” Maggie had called Quinn before she’d started Charlie’s bath. It was time that her closest people knew the full details of what was happening. She needed them more than ever now.

  When all this had started for her, one of the first things she’d learned was to alert your most trusted people as to what was going on in case you needed them. Build an army around you, the first detective had told her. Back then, Maggie had chosen to run instead, not wanting to drag her family and friends into a mess of her making. But she was tired of running. She now knew running wasn’t the answer. Obviously there was no place too far to be found.

  “Fine, but tell me you have wine,” Juniper said. “You’re making me nervous.”

  “Yes, you’re going to need a glass. Or two.” Maggie went to the fridge and pulled out a cheap white wine. Just as she was pulling out glasses, another knock sounded.

  “That’s probably Quinn,” she said. Woodrow was still relaxed, reassuring Maggie that she was right. After confirming, she opened the door. Quinn rushed in and held her arms out. First Maggie locked the dead bolt behind her friend; then she accepted, falling into Quinn’s embrace.

  It felt safe there. But Maggie knew it wasn’t. She wasn’t safe anywhere anymore. A pain ripped through her gut, and she remembered she hadn’t eaten all day. That was okay. It would just make the wine work faster.

  They broke apart and Quinn looked at her, a stricken expression on her face.

  “Oh, Maggie,” she said.

  “What the hell is going on?” Juniper said from her place on the couch. “Did someone die?”

  “Quinn, this is Juniper. She’s my neighbor, and I work with her at the clinic,” Maggie said. “We’re friends, and I trust her.”

  “Sorry,” Quinn said, directing her gaze toward Juniper. “I didn’t notice you there.”

  “You mean the blue streaks and nose piercings didn’t make me stand out against this gorgeous brown couch?” Juniper said, lightening the awkwardness of a new introduction.

  Maggie let out a long, ragged breath. “Okay, ladies. Wine first, then talk. Quinn, go get to know my little hippie-fairy friend while I fill your glass.”

  “You have to call the police. Not tomorrow. No
t next week. Now,” Quinn said. “It’s gone too far, and you need more protection. The MPD here are serious about keeping people safe.”

  Maggie watched as Juniper nodded emphatically, in total agreement with Quinn.

  “Yes, I know,” Maggie said. She sat on the floor with Woodrow’s head resting in her lap. Quinn and Juniper shared the couch, sitting on opposite ends and creating quite the contradictory picture. Two people who couldn’t be more different except for the fact that they were the two on Maui that Maggie trusted the most.

  “And I’m going to give you a loan,” Quinn said when Maggie got to the part about her account being frozen.

  “No. I’ll get that straightened out first thing tomorrow,” she answered.

  “If they don’t open your account tomorrow, ask for your request to be escalated to another level of management,” Juniper said. “They can’t hold your money hostage because of something someone else did. And you know Starr will give you an advance if you need it.”

  “I won’t need it,” Maggie said. Getting anything extra from Dr. Starr wasn’t going to happen. He’d been dragged into her personal life enough.

  “Well, you and Charlie are definitely coming to the inn to stay with me,” Quinn said. “You’re going to have to stop being so stubborn.”

  Maggie paused. That was complicated. While she knew they’d be safer at the inn, the Ghost had obviously seen the photo of her there, and a quick google would tell him where it was. He’d probably even followed her from the inn to her apartment one day, falling back behind other traffic so she couldn’t see him. Most likely he knew all her routine stops.

  “I know that I might be safer there with more people around, Quinn, but honestly, I don’t want to leave yet another place. Charlie is comfortable here. It’s not a palace, but we’ve made it into our home. I don’t want to uproot him and start bouncing around again.”

  “Maggie, your stalker was here. It’s not safe,” Quinn said, her voice rising with emotion. “You can’t possibly be serious.”

  “Shh. I don’t want him to wake up. He’ll never go back to sleep if he sees you here,” Maggie said. “And don’t worry. I have Woodrow.”

  Woodrow flicked his ears, letting her know he was still awake beneath the ecstasy of her rubbing the velvet lining of his ears.

  “I’m sorry. But you really need to think this through a little better,” Quinn said.

  “It is her decision,” Juniper said, her voice gentle. “And if she stays here, I’m taking the couch. Maggie, don’t even try to dissuade me.”

  “Well, I guess you’ll have the couch then because tonight we aren’t going anywhere. I’m too overwhelmed to make any big decisions. I have Woodrow, a dead bolt, and tomorrow I’ll go to the police department. I need to talk to your guest, David, too.”

  Quinn sat forward abruptly. “Oh crap. I forgot that Emily told me this morning that David was looking for me. Is it too late to call him? He might have some intel.”

  “Who’s David?” Juniper asked.

  “He’s a retired detective staying at Quinn’s inn, and he’s been doing some checking around for me,” Maggie said. “Trying to find out the status of this psychopath on my tail.”

  “Call him,” Juniper said. “He might have some advice you need to hear before you put in the police report.”

  Quinn went to her purse and pulled out the card David had given her, retrieved her phone, and dialed the number. She put it on speaker.

  “Hello?”

  “David, it’s Quinn. Sorry to call so late, but Emily said you wanted me to reach out. I’ve got you on speakerphone, and I’m here with Maggie and a friend named Juniper. You can talk freely. Were you able to find some news?”

  “Yes, I’m glad you called. They took forever to get back to me because they were trying to cover up an administrative disaster that’s still unraveling. After the lecture that I gave them, you should be hearing from a victim’s advocate soon, but the spoiler is, he’s out.”

  Maggie felt her stomach drop. She’d already known the Ghost was the one stalking her again. She could feel it. Hearing it confirmed made it that much more terrifying.

  “Ironically enough, it turns out there were two Martin Andrews in the facility. One was due for release, but they screwed up and let your guy go. There’s a search going on for him now.”

  Maggie cringed at David calling the Ghost her guy.

  “The prison systems are a disaster,” Juniper said. When Quinn shot her a curious look, she nodded. “Don’t ask me how I know.”

  “Ms. Dalton,” David said, “you need to take necessary security measures to keep yourself safe in case he tries to find you.”

  “He’s already found her,” Quinn said.

  There was silence on the phone for a second.

  “How do you know?” David asked, his tone now much more serious.

  Maggie quickly told him what had transpired since they’d last talked.

  “Damn,” he said. “This is really bad. They need to get him back into custody.”

  “Can’t they just run his name with all the airlines and start tracking him?” Quinn said.

  “No doubt he’s traveling under an alias. He’s gotten good at this by now,” David said. “Okay, listen. First thing you need to do is go to the police and file a report for harassment and stalking. I can tell you right now they’ll ask for proof before naming him as a suspect. You don’t have proof, but at least your report will put something on file. You can request that they keep an eye out around your neighborhood on patrol. Next, you should probably go to another location for a few weeks and not tell anyone where it is.”

  “I want her to come to the inn,” Quinn broke in.

  “Nope, if he is here, he’s been following her and knows about the inn. Can you take a few days off of work and perhaps go to another island? Think of it as a small vacation,” David said. “Pay for all travel and lodging in cash.”

  “No. I can’t do that. I just started my job, and that wouldn’t be fair to already ask for time off. Not to mention that I’m broke,” Maggie said, no longer caring how humiliating the confession was.

  “I’ll talk to Starr,” Juniper said. “He’ll understand.”

  “And I’ll pay your way,” Quinn added. “You can give it back when you’re on your feet. Take Charlie to see the Big Island. He’ll love seeing the most active volcano in the world and can even walk through a lava tube.”

  “Nope,” said Juniper. “They’ve been closed since the eruption.”

  Maggie held her hands up. “Wait. Just wait one second before you all go a little crazy. I ran from him for more than a year. Do you know how exhausting it is? Not only physically but emotionally too. I’m not going anywhere, and I’m sure not going to jeopardize my job. If you’ve noticed, jobs don’t just grow on trees around here.”

  “Starr won’t fire you,” Juniper said. “I’d kill him.”

  “Please, don’t joke about killing right now,” Quinn said.

  “Who said I was joking?” Juniper said, her expression deadpan.

  Maggie gave Juniper a scowl and put her fingers to her lips to tell her to be quiet. The detective was going to think they were all a bunch of crazies.

  On the phone, David cleared his throat. “I’m going to pretend that I didn’t hear that. I’ve got to go, ladies. Julianne isn’t having the best night.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry, David. Is there anything we can do at the inn? I can call the night clerk,” Quinn said. “Any special foods they can go out for?”

  “No, we’re set. She just wants me close. I’m going to read to her,” he said.

  They said their goodbyes, and Quinn put up her phone. When she did, she pulled a bottle of wine from her bag.

  “Who is ready for round two?” she asked, holding it high.

  Maggie saw it was a good wine—not one from the discount shelf at the local gas station. She expected Juniper to jump for joy, but when she looked over, the girl had taken the liberty of op
ening Maggie’s laptop and was working away.

  “What are you doing?”

  Juniper looked up and gave a sly smile. “You don’t need a detective to track someone when you’ve got my kind of skills. What’s his birth date?”

  Maggie wasn’t sure but remembered his age from when he’d first contacted her on the dating site. She told Juniper and watched as the girl tapped at the keys furiously.

  “How is that going to help if he’s here under a fake name?” Quinn asked.

  “He might have gotten here under a false identity, but I doubt in the little time he’s been out that he’s had time to set up credit cards under an alias, transfer money, and all those details,” said Juniper. “He’s probably got someone’s license but is financing the trip under his own name. I can also find out who his connections are. Relatives. Friends. Find him that way.”

  “You’re relentless,” Maggie said. A flash of hope ran through her. If Juniper could track him down, that would get him away from her and Charlie that much faster.

  “Okay, find him,” she said. “In the meantime, I’ll go first thing tomorrow and put in a report. At least they’ll be on notice.”

  “I think you should do it right now, Maggie,” Quinn said. “They’ll send someone here to talk to you and take down the details. They can at least put together a description and send it out to the staff by morning. And they’ll know to patrol here to keep an eye out for anyone strange.”

  Juniper looked up. “Just don’t tell them what I’m doing. They won’t want me playing cops and robbers.”

  Quinn raised the bottle of wine. “I’ll just put this in the fridge. After we make the report, I’ll open her up. This pretty pink superstar is bound to make us all feel a little better.”

  The three of them laughed, then were instantly silent when a sudden noise startled Woodrow and he jumped to his feet to look around for a culprit.

  Maggie checked the window and saw one of her neighbors carrying a basket of clothes up the stairs.