“Just tell me.”
“Four-seven-eight-C-P-H.”
“No,” he shook his head. “No, it’s not. Look at it.” He pointed. “It’s four-seven-eight-C-H-P. You wrote it on the mirror wrong.” He laughed.
Alyssa stared. She’d botched her rescue message. Even if someone had found it, they might not have been able to track her down. Her lips trembled, but she gulped down her frustration. She would not cry. Tears would not solve anything. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. The pain pill was making her feel vulnerable, weepy.
She shook off his arm and hopped toward the car door. Nick tried to help her. She jerked away.
“What difference does it make?” she said. “You rubbed it out.”
Nick reached for the door handle. “Alyssa, I apologize. I’m sorry I thought you were working for someone else. No operative would get her own license number confused. And no agent I ever heard of prints like a kindergarten teacher.”
“Agent?” she said. “You thought I was a spy?”
He shrugged.
Alyssa gaped at him. “A spy,” she repeated. “I would have no idea how to go about being a spy. Or an agent, or an operative or whatever.”
Nick flushed. He put his hands on either side of her face and leaned closer to her. “I really am sorry. Sorry I hurt you and truly sorry I scared you. I get paranoid.”
He opened the passenger door, and Bella streaked out.
“No, kitty. Bella,” Alyssa cried. She could not chase the cat and was afraid if Nick did she would run. She put her hand on his arm to hold him back. Bella took a few leaps, then just stood in the gravel, meowing and looking around.
“What does it want?” Nick said.
“She’s been cooped up all day. Cats have physical needs too.”
“Oh, good grief. So okay, cat, go.”
“Um.” Alyssa cleared her throat. “She’s used to a litter box.”
Nick opened the back of the van and reached for one of the sacks behind the seat. He pulled out a pan that resembled a large brownie pan. “The woman in the store said this was what we needed.” He set the pan on the seat and peeled off the cover, revealing fresh cat litter. “Now what?” He looked expectantly at the cat.
Nick rose a few notches in Alyssa’s estimation. Any man who bought litter for a stranger’s cat had some saving graces. Alyssa took the pan, shook it gently and called, “Here, kitty. Here, Bella.”
The cat bounded back to them. Nick set the pan inside on the floor. The cat came to him and rubbed against his legs. He looked from the cat to Alyssa and back to the cat again.
“Okay. Come, cat.” He patted the floor of the van. Bella rubbed against his legs and meowed softly.
“Here, cat,” he said, making kissing sounds as if she were a dog.
Bella sat down, tail twitching. Alyssa reached for her, but she could not move fast enough. Could barely move at all.
Nick looked puzzled. “What commands do you use?”
Alyssa found herself smiling. “Actually, you don’t. You pick her up and put her inside.”
“Yeah, sure, okay.” He bent, and the cat flinched as if to bolt. Before she could jump away his large hands encircled her body. He lifted her stiff-armed and set her inside the van, then shut the door gently, looking through the window to be sure she was out of harm’s way.
Alyssa eased herself into the passenger seat, and Nick got behind the wheel.
Bella scratched in the pan and then stepped out, shaking her paws.
Alyssa stared straight ahead. He thought she was a spy. That explained some things. Maybe she would have done the same in his place. He’d been kind to Bella. And he appeared truly concerned about her ankle. He should be. It was his fault. She felt in her pocket for the handkerchief.
The monogrammed N told her nothing. But it raised questions. She didn’t know what parts of his story were true ‒ if anything was. Looking at the situation pragmatically, she decided he wasn’t going to hurt her. If he intended to harm her, he would have already done it. After all, they were totally isolated here. No cars had driven by. A few yards away from the road the forest guarded its secrets. A body might not be found for months, maybe years. He must want her alive for some reason. She was stuck. Something in her ankle might be broken, and she certainly couldn’t run on it. She’d have to play along with him. If she was no better tomorrow, he would have to take her to a doctor. Then she would escape.
And besides, he had bought litter for Bella. What kind of evil person did that?
Chapter 10
Nick headed northwest along the shore. He was silent, and Alyssa didn’t know what to say.
Thirty minutes later the spires of the Mackinac Bridge rose in the distance.
“There it is,” Nick said. “Across the bridge and over to the other side.”
Anxiety filled Alyssa’s thoughts. They were going further and further from home, into one of America’s last bastions of wilderness.
About a mile from the bridge, he pulled off the road and stopped on the shoulder. He turned to her. ‘‘Now,” he said, ‘‘I don’t expect trouble, but in case they’re looking for us ….”
Alyssa’s spirits rose. She could signal the authorities.
“We’re tourists going to see the locks in Sault Ste. Marie,” he finished. “Maybe we’ll take the Agawa Canyon train. It’s a beautiful trip. You ever done it?”
She shook her head. She was helpless with her injured ankle.
“And, Alyssa.” His mouth hardened into a grim line. “Keep your hands in your lap. No signals. And if I say down, you hit the floor fast. Don’t ask why.” She blanched at the harshness of his voice. “Do you hear me?” he said. “Do you understand?”
Alyssa nodded. She understood. More guns.
Nick pulled back on the road, talking almost to himself. “It probably won’t happen. Nothing will happen.”
They blended with traffic on I-75, and moments later drove onto the bridge approach.
“So far, so good,” Nick said.
Alyssa loved romantic mystery movies. As long as they didn’t involve guns. Her situation was like being in a poorly scripted movie and rooting for the bad guy. Then, before she could speculate on the meaning of her mixed-up feelings, she was captivated by the familiar fluttery sensation she always felt in her stomach when she crossed the Mighty Mac. The lowering sun glinted off the blue water far below. She rolled her window down a bit to catch the smell of the lake. The tires emitted a high-pitched hum on the metal grating of the road surface. The day was clear, and visibility seemed unlimited. To the right was Lake Huron and Mackinac Island. To the left, Lake Michigan blended into the sky. The lowering sun reflected shades of pink and orange onto the water.
The bridge spanned the Mackinac Straits, where the two giant bodies of water came together. Five miles of the bridge passed too quickly. Alyssa could not form a plan to signal anybody. When the pill wore off she would not take another. It made her thoughts fuzzy.
They drew near the other side and the tollbooths.
“One more obstacle,” Nick said, “and we’re home free.”
He had switched at some point from saying I, to we. Alyssa wondered if that was good or not.
He stopped, paid the toll, and asked if there was any construction on I-75 to Sault Ste. Marie. “We’re going to see the locks and take the Agawa train.”
“No construction,” the woman in the booth said. “Smooth sailing. Have a nice trip.”
Again, Alyssa felt a wave of disappointment followed by a vague sense of relief. Home free, he had said. A half mile later a sign announced, Sault Ste. Marie ‒ Keep Left. Nick turned right.
Alyssa whirled on him. “I thought you said we were going to the Soo.”
“No,” he said. “I said that’s what we’d tell them.”
Alyssa flopped back in her seat. More lies. She forced calmness into her voice. “So where are we going?”
“There’s a park near Manistique with camping. Indian River. It’s about
an hour and a half from here.” He frowned. “You don’t need to make a reservation or anything for a camping spot, do you?”
“Campsite,” Alyssa corrected. “You do if it’s a busy time.”
“Let’s hope it’s not. We both need to rest.”
She flexed her ankle. It still felt like something stabbed through it. The dashboard clock read 7:15.
“We’re going to get there pretty late for setting up camp,” she said.
“Nah. It’ll be light till after ten.”
He lowered his visor, and, squinting into the sun, headed west. On their left Lake Michigan’s surface gleamed silver. They flew past small towns with musical names: Brevort, Epoufette, Naubinway, Engadine. It was still light when they reached Manistique an hour and forty minutes later.
Nick stopped at a convenience store on the west side of town. He went inside and she considered the improbability of escape. The parking lot was empty. But she wouldn’t get far hopping. Nick glanced her way several times as he paid for his purchases. Alyssa didn’t want anybody else hurt. He returned in a few moments with two large bags stuffed with supplies.
They left Manistique behind, and a few miles later Nick turned north. Tangled pine forest lined the roadside. A half hour later he turned just beyond a small convenience store built of logs into Indian River Campground. An attendant sauntered from a small structure no bigger than an outhouse. He carried a clipboard.
“Help ya?” He was young and rumpled, a summer recruit.
Nick flashed him a broad smile. “We need a place to set up a tent.” He turned and grinned at Alyssa and patted her knee. “Me’n the wife would like a site off by ourselves.”
The man raised his eyebrows and then looked at his clipboard. “They’re all kinda isolated. Nobody here tonight, but we’re full this weekend if you don’t have a reservation.”
“No,” Nick said. “We’ll only be here a night. Just seeing the sights.”
The young man nodded. “Okay, then. Just follow the road past the store, make a left, then a right. There are only five sites. Take any one. Charge is eighteen a night. You can pay me now.”
Nick fished out his wallet and handed over a twenty dollar bill. The young man slipped the bill beneath the clip on his board and made change from his pocket, then handed a tag to Nick.
“Thanks.” Nick said and hung the tag from the rearview mirror. He waved at the kid and drove in the direction indicated.
Alyssa gritted her teeth. “Why must you do that?”
Nick’s eyes were innocence personified, but they held mischief. “Do what?”
“Imply that you and I have something going on between us.”
“I told you.” He spoke patiently, patronizingly. “Protective coloring. Make them think you’re like everyone else, and they never remember you. Not too noisy, not too quiet. Not too good, not too bad. Just as long as you’re not too different. Why? Does that bother you?”
Frustration snapped her nerves like a stretched rubber band. “You know it does. You do it on purpose.”
“No, I don’t. I wouldn’t. Why would I?”
Alyssa heard puzzlement and another note in his voice. Sincerity? Concern?
“There.” Nick pointed. “Number five.”
He pulled into the space, put the gearshift into first, set the brake and got out. “Ah, this is great. Fresh air. Isn’t this great?”
Alyssa opened her door and struggled to stand on one foot. “Yeah, great.” There was a sneer in her voice. “Meanwhile, it’s getting dark, and we have to put up the tent. Plus, I’m hungry.”
Nick hurried to her. “Here,” he said and slid an arm around her waist.
She tensed, then forced herself to relax. She’d have to let him help her now. But tomorrow ….
“Since you know how to set up, this should be a breeze.” He grinned at her.
She hopped beside him. “Usually you have two able-bodied people and daylight. It’s almost dark.” She gestured at her ankle. “And I’m not at full strength.” It galled her to admit it.
“No problem,” he said, motioning to a battered picnic table. “Sit there. You be the brains, and I’ll be the brawn.”
She sat, and without waiting for a response, he dashed back to the van. A few moments later he returned with Bella under one arm and a grocery sack in the other. He dropped the cat onto Alyssa’s lap and handed her a flashlight. “One cat, one light. So far, so good.”
He reached into the sack and produced a can of insect repellent which he liberally sprayed on himself, and then handed the can to Alyssa.
Alyssa looked up at him. “How did you know about the bugs?”
“I’ve been in the U.P. before. The mosquito is the state bird.”
She covered Bella’s eyes and sprayed herself lightly. Mosquitoes loved her. Itchy bites would be a distraction.
Again he went to the van and gathered some of the gear. He staggered back with his arms full and stumbled, juggling the equipment while trying to keep his balance. To no avail. Everything tumbled to the ground, and he landed on top of the pile.
Alyssa covered her mouth with one hand and snickered. “Are you hurt?” She wasn’t sure if she hoped he was or wasn’t.
He didn’t speak for a moment. “No, no. I don’t think so.” He rose slowly and stretched, testing his muscles. He looked at the pile. “It’s going well so far, don’t you think?”
Alyssa nearly laughed, but circumstances reminded her of her peril. Afraid the cat would bolt and get lost, she held Bella tightly and gave directions. Nick executed them. He fitted and tugged and swore, and an hour later, in near darkness, the tent was miraculously standing and staked down, at Alyssa’s insistence, in case a sudden wind blew up.
Nick put Bella in the van and helped Alyssa across the gravel road to the bathroom facility, a vault toilet, better than most in her experience, and it contained a sink and mirror.
After washing up, she suffered in silence while Nick almost carried her back to their site. He retrieved one grocery sack from the van and set it inside the tent. He got Bella and handed her to Alyssa, then held the flap open while Alyssa hopped in with Bella in her arms.
“Home sweet home,” he said. “At least for a night.”
The tent was a roomy, two person model in which they could stand up straight.
Alyssa set the flashlight near the door and asked, “Are you sleeping in the van?” Maybe she could sneak away in the night.
“Nope. Right here.”
She took a deep breath and faced the question. “We have only one sleeping bag.”
“Yes, I’m aware of that. Go ahead.” He pointed to the rolled up bag. “It’s all yours.”
“What about you?”
Nick raised a hand. “Don’t go away.” He ducked out the tent flap.
“Go away? Cute. Real funny,” Alyssa muttered as she unrolled the bag and settled on top of it.
He returned with furniture pads which he arranged next to the sleeping bag, and then zipped the tent flap.
Alyssa pointed to the pads. “You’re going to sleep on those? They’re musty and probably not very warm.”
Nick shrugged. “You know what they say about beggars not being choosers. Besides, it’s not that cold.”
“Yet.” She fished inside the sleeping bag and pulled out the liner. “Here, you may as well take this.” She thrust the cotton sheeting at him. “At least it’ll keep those old pads away from your skin.”
Nick looked at her a long moment before accepting it. “Thanks.” He spread the liner over his nest of furniture pads, saving one for a blanket. “One second.” He slipped outside again.
What now? Alyssa wondered.
He returned shortly bearing a beat-up fishing tackle box – Aunt Ellen’s first aid kit – and his wrinkled sport coat. He held up the tackle box. “I found this when I was unloading.” He opened the case and pulled out an elastic bandage. Kneeling, he said, “Give me your ankle.”
Alyssa stretched out her leg. He
removed her shoe and sock and wrapped her aching ankle. She tried not to notice that his fingers were gentle and competent. She tried to ignore the extra pulsing of her heart as he bandaged. He did not look up at her as he worked. When he was finished, he sat back. “There. Not too tight?”
Alyssa shook her head. “No. Actually, that feels much better.”
“Now, crawl in.” He nodded toward the sleeping bag.
She did and pulled the bag up over her legs.
Her stomach growled. “What about food?”
He rummaged in the grocery sack and produced two new plaid shirts, folded and in plastic, one different shades of blue, the other red. He handed the blue one to her.
“I guessed at your size,” he said.
Alyssa tore off the plastic and shook out the shirt. Blissful, warm flannel, a size larger than she wore, it would accommodate other clothes under it. She put it on and sighed into its warmth. He donned his shirt over his denim one.
Next he dug out of the bag sodas and bottles of water, several sandwiches wrapped in clear plastic, and a big bag of potato chips.
“Dinner,” he announced, handing her a sandwich and a soda. “I may not be a very good camper, but at least I don’t forget about food.” He pinched the fabric of his shirt. “Or warmth. And” – he held up two toothbrushes and a tube of toothpaste – “what every camper needs.”
Alyssa tried not to smile at his thoughtfulness. The toothbrushes meant he had no intention of releasing her in the near future. Sighing, she tentatively unwrapped the sandwich and took a bite. It was good ham, sliced thick, with Swiss cheese on what looked like homemade wheat bread. She threw an approving glance at her captor.
“It’s good,” she said and took a handful of chips. He had even remembered to bring napkins and little packets of mayonnaise and mustard. The food tasted delicious on an empty stomach, and, though lukewarm, the soda was refreshing.
Nick finished eating while Bella crouched in front of him, watching every move. He reached in the sack and took out a small can. He popped the lid, and Alyssa smelled tuna. The good kind ‒ albacore packed in water. At least the man had good taste.
“I bought a bunch of little pouches of cat food,” he said. “I figured the tuna might be a treat.” He unzipped the tent door and left. In a few minutes, he returned with two small plastic bowls and dumped the tuna in one. Bella bounded to it.
Double Danger Page 10