Running for Her Life

by Beverly Long

  She’d never seen him without an umbrella on a rainy day. His shoes were always shined. He defined anal-retentive. He wasn’t the type to drive a car without a spare tire. Certainly not the type to have an uncharged cell phone. This guy didn’t even have the guts to order ham or tuna fish. He stuck with turkey. It was safe.

  She only really knew one thing for sure. It was the same thing she’d known fourteen months ago. She needed to rely on herself. She wouldn’t lose sight of that. It had saved her once. It would save her again.

  “I’m tired,” she said. “I want to go inside.”

  * * *

  JAKE OPENED HIS DOOR and almost kicked the truck when he got out. He hadn’t been this frustrated for a very long time, maybe since that day years ago when he’d come home and found his brother wallowing in self-pity and vodka.

  He’d bullied his brother with brute strength. That wasn’t the solution with Tara.

  Maybe she didn’t know anything, Jake speculated. Maybe she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  Jake had a lot of questions and very few answers. It was time for that to change.

  “I’m going to call Andy and have him look for Waller.”

  Her chin jerked up. “Why?”

  “Because the last you know, he was walking along a highway. He hasn’t been seen or heard from. I’m the chief of police, Tara. I have a responsibility to find him.”

  She looked at her watch. “It’s only been a little over an hour since Jim and I left Nel’s. It’s not as if he’s been missing for days.”

  Jake shrugged. He didn’t care. Maybe he’d overstated his duty but he wanted to talk to Waller. The sooner the better. “I’m also going to Chase’s house to get my stuff.”

  “What?”

  “My stuff. I’m moving in.”

  She stared at him. “I didn’t realize I’d advertised for a roommate. I’ll have to call the newspaper and have them check that.”

  Sarcasm did not become her. And he’d have been even madder if he hadn’t heard the underlying fear that had been in her voice since he’d picked her up at the farmhouse.

  “I’m going now so that I can be back here before it gets dark.”

  “I don’t want you here.”

  “Tough. Until I figure out what’s going on, I’m your shadow. Like it or not, I’m your best protection. I’ve got a gun and I know how to use it.”

  “I don’t need your gun. I can take care of myself.”

  Interesting. She hadn’t said he was overreacting or that he was making a mountain out of a molehill. What she’d said was that she could take care of herself.

  “I believe you,” he said. “You’re smart and just stubborn enough that you probably can take care of yourself. But I promised Chase that I’d take care of his town, his friends. I am not going to let something happen that I could have prevented. I won’t.”

  “So you’re doing this for Chase?”

  “Yes,” he said, proving that he was as big a liar as his partner had ever been. But if he told Tara the truth, that it would kill him if anything happened to her, she’d think he was crazy. And she certainly wouldn’t feel comfortable having him in her home. “Give me your key. I’ll check the house.”

  She handed it to him, not saying another word. She waited while he unlocked the door and did a quick search inside. When he returned to the living room, she had her back up against the far wall, like a cat scared of a big dog.

  It felt as if his breath was trapped in his chest. Maybe he wasn’t bullying her with brute strength, but he was bullying her just the same.

  It didn’t matter. He’d do what it took to keep her safe. “Lock the door after me.”

  Chapter Twelve

  He was back in less than thirty minutes. She’d spent the time trying to figure out what to do next.

  When he’d said that she was moving in, her first thought had been Thank God. She’d felt compelled to protest, but when he hadn’t backed down, she’d given up the fight pretty easily.

  It was weak and needy on her part, but the stakes had gotten higher tonight. Ever since the baseball had been thrown through her window and she’d contemplated the possibility that Michael might have found her, she’d been on edge. She’d always been vigilant with her safety, but since then she’d been supervigilant. But there was a price to be paid for that.

  She felt most vulnerable at night. When she slept, it was with one ear tuned to hear any unusual noise. As a result, she was tired, almost exhausted. She never felt truly relaxed. Her routine had been disrupted. Heck, she was afraid to take a shower, afraid to be naked and unprotected in her own house. And after tonight, she was more scared than ever. Joanna Travis, aka Tara Thompson, had never been a fool, and it would have been foolish to turn down protection.

  He was doing it because he wouldn’t let his friend down. That hurt. She could admit that. But it was for the best. There was no future for her and Jake. Never had been.

  Jake had a suitcase in one hand and four plastic grocery sacks in the other. On the way to the spare bedroom, he dropped the groceries on the kitchen counter.

  When he came back to the kitchen, he double-checked the doors and the windows and started unpacking groceries. What the hell was he doing?

  “I don’t think either one of us got dinner tonight,” he said. “I hope you like pizza.”

  “Yes,” she said, somewhat reluctantly. “I love it.”

  “Excellent. We agree on something.” He didn’t smile but at least he didn’t sound as angry as before.

  “When I’m in Minneapolis,” he continued, “I have pizza at least once a week. I’m going through carbohydrate withdrawal here.”

  She appreciated the fact that he was trying to bring some normalcy to a very unusual night. She could make an effort, too. “Please tell me there are no anchovies on this special pizza.”

  “No. I’m a pizza purista. None of this new fad stuff like spinach and pineapple and who knows what else. I like sausage, pepperoni, mushrooms, onions and black olives.”

  “How about tomatoes?”

  He rubbed his chin. “I don’t know. That would be stepping outside my comfort zone.”

  “Please?”

  “Fine. But don’t tell anyone.”

  When he got the dough rolled out and it covered a large baking sheet, she asked, “Exactly how much pizza are we fixing?”

  He shrugged. “I like it cold the next day. How are you feeling?”

  “Stop worrying about me,” she said, exasperated.

  “Okay. Then start chopping.”

  It took them another thirty minutes to grate the cheese and prepare the other ingredients. Finally, Jake stuck the pizza in the oven and set the timer. Then he pulled out a bottle of red wine from one of the grocery bags.

  He uncorked it and poured it into two wineglasses that he found in the cupboard. He handed her one.

  “I didn’t expect wine,” she admitted, already drawn in by the heady aroma.

  “My pizza deserves this. Come on. Now we sit, drink a little vino and listen to the sauce bubble.”

  He made it sound so innocent.

  She sat on one end of the couch, he sat a respectable three feet away, at the other end. She took a sip of wine, then another. “This is very nice,” she said. The muscles in her neck felt a little less tight. They could do this. They could have conversation, a little wine, some dinner.

  They sat, both lost in their thoughts, until the buzz of the oven timer interrupted them.

  He stood up. “Tonight we drink wine, eat pizza until we burst and then sing songs from old Italian movies.”

  “Do you know any songs from Italian movies?”

  He offered her his hand. “That hasn’t stopped me in the past.”

  They had finished their pizza and were cleaning up when they heard the knock on Tara’s front door. Jake held up one finger, moved over to the window, lifted the lace curtain just a fraction of an inch and looked outside.

  “Waller,�
�� he whispered.

  She nodded. Jake opened the door.

  “Hello. I’m looking for Tara,” Waller said.

  “She’s right here,” Jake said. He opened the door wider but didn’t step aside. There was no way for Waller to step into the house.

  “I was worried about you,” Waller said, looking around Jake.

  “I got a ride from a nice man. Then Jake happened by so he brought me home.”

  The words seemed to come easy for her and Jake wondered how many other lies had rolled off her tongue. But Waller seemed to be buying it.

  “That’s good,” he said. “I figured something like that must have happened. There wasn’t anyone home at the first house, so I had to walk farther. A car came along and they let me use their cell phone to call a garage. Then I walked back to the car but you weren’t there. I had to wait for the tow truck and once the tire was fixed, I went to Nel’s, looking for you. Your van was there but the lights were all off so I came straight here.”

  Jake considered the story. It could have happened that way. But Tara had said that the man had picked her up just minutes after Waller had crested the first hill. They’d driven off, following him. They should have overtaken him. If not, they should have seen him farther down the road.

  If somebody had stopped to offer a cell phone, then that person should be able to verify the story. “Who was it that let you use his cell phone?” Jake asked.

  Waller paused. “Some older lady. Not somebody I knew. I guess I didn’t get her name.”

  Of course not.

  “All’s well that ends well,” Tara said.

  “I feel terrible about what happened,” Waller said. “Maybe we could—”

  “Tara, could you show me where your dish soap is?” Jake interrupted. “We need to get those dishes done.”

  Waller looked perplexed, like he didn’t have much experience handling meddling friends.

  “I’ll see you at Nel’s,” Tara said.

  “Right. Sure. I’ll see you,” Waller stammered.

  When Waller took a step back, Jake shut the door. Then he walked over to the window and watched Waller get in his car and drive off. Tires all looked okay now.

  “I don’t like him,” Jake said.

  Tara nodded.

  “What? No argument?”

  “The man didn’t have a spare tire and his cell phone wasn’t charged. What’s to like?”

  “I suppose he will come in for his turkey sandwich on Monday,” Jake said.

  “I suppose.” Tara pulled the soap from her cupboard. “Why wouldn’t he?”

  Jake just shook his head and started running water in the sink. He quickly washed up the dishes. Then he sat down in the living room and stared at the dark television. She sat on the couch and looked at her hands.

  Waller’s appearance had changed the mood. The laughter, the light conversation, all the things that they’d been doing to push it behind them for just a few minutes, was gone.

  Finally, unable to take it another minute, Tara stood up. “Good night,” she said.

  She got to the end of the hallway before he spoke. “Tara, don’t lock your door. If I need to get to you quickly, I don’t want to have to break it down.”

  She didn’t bother to answer.

  Once inside her room, Tara sank down on her bed, staring at the wooden door, the only barrier between her and Jake. She’d put on a good show about Waller, but she knew how hard it would be on Monday when she saw him. She would have to pretend that she believed that it had been a regular flat tire. She would do it. Her life, and maybe Jake’s, too, depended on it. Before, she’d had to protect only herself. Now she had to protect Jake, too.

  * * *

  ONCE TARA WAS IN HER ROOM, Jake called and told Andy he could stop looking for Waller. Then he sat in Tara’s empty living room and willed the telephone to ring. In addition to putting Andy on Waller’s tail earlier, he’d also called the county sheriff and described the man, the license plate on the old truck and the location of the house. Although Tara had dismissed the incident, in his gut he felt that something was very wrong. If the guy in the truck had been innocent, Jake would rather look like a fool for calling it in than feel like an idiot because he didn’t. The sheriff had promised to contact him once they knew something.

  He’d decided on pizza simply to have something to occupy his mind and hands while he waited to hear something. He wanted to be at the scene, processing the information himself, but he couldn’t tear himself away from Tara. Not after he’d seen the tears running down her face and how absolutely terrified she’d been.

  The pizza had been good, and looking at Tara across the table was no hardship. When she’d crossed her legs and her black dress had ridden up her thighs, he’d been hungry for more than dough and sauce. When she’d licked the corners of her mouth, he’d almost begged let me, let me.

  Waller’s interruption had almost been a good thing. Afterward, Tara could hardly get to bed fast enough. He could not even contemplate sleep until he heard something. When his cell phone finally did ring, he fumbled in his haste to answer it, almost dropping the phone.

  “Vernelli,” he said.

  “Chief,” the county sheriff said, “I have an update. The house was empty. Neighbors say it has been for a couple months. However, it did look as if someone had been inside recently. A few tracks in the dust. Pipes in the kitchen were damp inside, as if somebody had recently run water through them. That kind of thing. My group did dust for prints, although I don’t think they picked up much.”

  “What about the vehicle?”

  “Registered to an old woman who lives in St. Paul. She didn’t even realize it was missing out of her garage.”

  Damn it. “I should have brought him in,” Jake said.

  “For offering the young woman a glass of water? From what you told me, he didn’t do anything else against the law. She willingly got in his truck.”

  “I don’t think his intentions were aboveboard. There’s no way of knowing what might have happened to her if she’d gone inside that house.”

  “You’re right. We don’t know and we don’t arrest people for their intentions. We will, however, slam his butt in jail for stealing that truck if we find him. That will at least give us a chance to ask him some questions.”

  “Thanks for the call. I appreciate it.”

  * * *

  EIGHT SHORT HOURS LATER, the alarm blared. Tara shut it off fast and within minutes walked into the living room. She stopped short when she saw Jake, already up, an empty coffee cup sitting at his side.

  “How long have you been up?” she asked.

  “A while. I couldn’t sleep.” Not that he needed to offer the additional explanation. He’d already been to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. Dark circles shadowed his eyes and his hair stood on end in several spots. He basically looked like hell.

  “Jake,” she said, obviously coming to the same conclusion, “you need to get some sleep. It’s Sunday. Go back to bed. I’ve got a ton of paperwork to do today. Nothing is going to happen with you in the next room.”

  “I’m okay. Don’t worry about me,” he said, dismissing the discussion. “I hope you can get your paperwork done in a couple hours, because that’s when we need to leave for Minneapolis.”

  “What? Why are we going to Minneapolis?”

  “That’s where my parents live. We’re going for dinner.”

  She sat down hard on the sofa. “I am not going to your parents’ house. You cannot just show up at someone’s house unexpectedly for dinner. It’s rude.”

  “It’s not unexpected. We’re celebrating my dad’s birthday today. My brother is coming, too. I called Mom twenty minutes ago and told her that I was bringing you. She always makes enough food to feed an army, so one more doesn’t matter. She sounded excited to meet you.”

  The last family dinner she’d attended had been an anniversary party for Michael’s parents, about a month before she’d run. Michael had gotten drun
k, his father had been even drunker, and his mother hadn’t said a word to her all night.

  Did Jake’s mother ever throw plates? Michael’s mother had pulled that stunt once. Eggs Benedict had splattered the curtains.

  “What did you tell her about me? Who does she think I am?”

  “I told her you were a friend. That’s all.” Of course when his mom heard a friend, she was likely to read more into it. That was a given. But he couldn’t worry about that right now.

  “I think this is getting too complicated,” Tara said. She got up, walked to the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee. She held up the pot, offering him a refill. He refused. He’d already had a whole pot.

  It’s complicated because you won’t tell me the truth. “We just have to do the best we can with the circumstances we have. I’ll be outside for a while. Andy is coming by to borrow Veronica. He’s moving into a new apartment today. I’m not sure I trust his old car to make the trip to Minneapolis. Do you mind if we take your van?”

  “We’ll have to pick it up at Nel’s. I guess that’s fine.” She sounded discouraged.

  “You don’t get to Minneapolis much?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “Hardly ever.”

  Right. She’d been there exactly one week ago. At the library.

  He walked out and let the door slam behind him.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Tara was ready on time. She wore a lightweight, long-sleeved cotton shirt and tan shorts that stopped a couple inches above her knee. She really had beautiful legs—slim, yet strong with feminine muscle. She’d pulled her hair up, leaving her pretty neck bare. She wore small gold hoops in her ears and a simple gold necklace. She looked delicious.

  And innocent. Was she? During the middle of the night it had dawned on him that perhaps he was obtuse. He’d been assuming that she was hiding the truth to protect herself. Maybe she was hiding the truth to protect someone else. Maybe someone that she cared about? Loved, even?

  That was why he’d looked like something the cat had dragged in this morning. Because his mind had been working overtime in the dark hours of the night.

  “It’s a scorcher,” he said. “Must be near ninety degrees. My parents have a pool, so you’ll want to pack a suit.”