Final Touch

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Final Touch Page 13

by Brandilyn Collins


  I froze, sick to the core. Hot tears sprang to my eyes.

  “You’re dead now, Shaley, you’re dead!” Joshua smacked his foot on the accelerator. We jolted forward, throwing me back against my seat. Tires squealing, he peeled out onto the highway, leaving the dying policeman in the dust.

  40

  Rayne swayed to her feet and crossed the bedroom. She flung open the door to see Al, with Gary close behind. Gary surged past the FBI agent. “They’ve seen Shaley! They’ve seen Shaley!” He grabbed Rayne by the shoulders and hung on. But his face showed only terror.

  Rayne’s eyes widened. Her head swiveled from Gary to Al. “Where? What happened? How is she?”

  “In Montana.” Gary’s words spilled over themselves. “Near the Canadian border. A policeman stopped their car and…” His face whitened. He shook his head at Al. “Tell her.”

  Al held up a hand, palm out—his gesture for Rayne to stay calm. “It’s in a little town called Peace, Montana. They’re in the stolen Camry, just as we suspected. An officer pulled them over on a routine stop for exceeding the speed limit. He hadn’t seen the Be on the Lookout for the car and had no idea what he was walking into.”

  “Did he get Shaley?” Rayne blurted. Her lungs felt on fire. “Is she safe?”

  “I’m afraid it didn’t happen that way. Fledger shot him and took off.”

  “No.” The heat in Rayne’s chest spread through her body. “Is he dead? Is Shaley…”

  “Looks like the officer will pull through. He was shot in the upper right chest, so it missed his heart. He was able to drag himself back to his car and radio for help. Local police vehicles are on their way. There’s only one road leading out of that town for some distance. State police have also been alerted. They’re putting a chopper in the air.”

  Rayne clutched Gary’s hands, her nerves zinging with hope and fear. What if Fledger shot Shaley? What if he drove so fast he crashed the car? “What do we do now?” she whispered. “What do we do?”

  “We pray.” Gary squeezed her hands until it hurt. His handsome face looked worn and old, his eyes red. “We pray.”

  41

  I pressed against my seat, hands clutched in my lap and tears rolling down my face. The sight of the policeman collapsing on the road flashed again and again in my head. It was all my fault. Maybe he had seen the T-shirt in the window. He’d come to help me—and now he was dead.

  Joshua drove like a wild man, hunched over the wheel and cursing. We sped past rocky hills on the straight road. With every mile I knew we would wreck.

  Maybe it would be better that way. Just crash and die. Anything was better than what awaited me.

  Joshua glanced in the rearview mirror and spat another curse. I resisted the urge to turn around and look. Instead I lowered my visor and peered into the attached mirror.

  Flashing red lights—far back in the distance.

  All air sucked from my lungs. New, wild hope surged through me, pursued by terror. I could die here.

  Joshua gunned the motor. Our speed hit ninety-five. He gripped the steering wheel, teeth clenched. His breath came in hard puffs. “I’m not lettin’ them take you.”

  I watched the road fly at us, my muscles stiff as wood.

  “Take that T-shirt off the window,” Joshua spat. “I need to see.”

  Quickly I rolled the window down an inch, yanked down the shirt, and stuffed it under my seat. Closed the window again.

  A minute passed. Two. My eyes fixed on the visor mirror. The red lights were no closer.

  Joshua slowed down.

  I threw him a look of panic. What was he going to do? Then I saw a turnoff ahead—an unpaved road on the right that disappeared behind a hill about a mile away. Joshua slowed more, but not nearly enough to make the turn. What was he thinking? I gripped the edge of my seat and the dashboard, bracing myself. We neared the turnoff. My heart jumped into my throat. I dug my heels against the floor and squeezed my eyes shut.

  The car whipped to the right.

  I felt us skid…rise up on two wheels. The seconds dragged out. In my mind I saw us flipping over and over. My mouth opened with a keening cry. Here it came, the churning—

  The car jolted back onto all four tires.

  Our rear end skidded out, then righted.

  The Camry leapt forward.

  My eyes opened. The hill was straight ahead, still some distance away. Sirens sounded behind us. I looked in the mirror and saw two police cars. They’d gained on us when we slowed.

  But they would have to make that turn too.

  The road curved toward the left of the hill. Joshua didn’t slow. His face was red, and his jaw hard and set. I saw the truth in his face—he would never let me get out of this alive. He’d come this far. He had no intention of losing now.

  The sirens faded. The police cars had slowed to turn.

  We rounded the hill. About a half mile away the road ended. I saw two cabins and a barn.

  Joshua let out a growl of victory. His lips spread in a sneering smile.

  We rocketed toward the cabins. At the last possible second Joshua slowed. Even then I thought it was too late. We weren’t going to stop. We’d go right through one of the buildings.

  He hit the brake. An antilock system kicked the car into a crazy shudder. I closed my eyes again and hung on, melting into my seat. Waiting for the crash…

  The Camry slung to a stop.

  My lungs wouldn’t work. I heaved a shuddering sob.

  “Get out!” Joshua yelled. “Now!” He undid his seat belt, grabbed his gun, and bolted from the car. I fumbled with my own belt. My fingers wouldn’t work. Joshua ran around the front, jerked open my door. My seat belt fell away. He grabbed me by the arm and pulled me out. Shoved me toward the cabin. “Inside!”

  I stumbled up one cement block step, Joshua beside me. We crossed a narrow porch with no roof. Joshua flung open the front door, pushed me over the threshold, and jumped in behind me. The door slammed. He locked it.

  Joshua dragged me through a rustic living area, a kitchen on our left. Down a central hallway. We passed a bedroom on the right, a bathroom on the left. He sent me sprawling through the second right-hand door. I hit the end of a double bed and collapsed upon it. “Stay there!” He pointed a thick finger at me, then disappeared.

  I struggled toward the head of the bed and drew my knees up to my chest.

  Joshua’s footsteps drummed the cabin’s bare floors. I heard a door open, the rattle of something.

  Guns?

  Sweat beaded on my forehead and ran down my temple.

  More running—toward the front of the cabin. Then came an unmistakable sound. A shotgun being cocked.

  Footfalls. Joshua appeared in the doorway, shotgun in his left hand. His eyes were narrowed and mean, his lips curling. “They ain’t takin’ you.”

  We stared at each other.

  “Where’s Caleb?” My mouth barely worked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Is that his cabin next door?”

  “He ain’t there. No car out front.”

  Thank God. If there were two of them…“Does he have guns too?”

  Joshua stabbed me with a look. “We got plenty of protection.”

  Sirens wailed through the air. Our heads jerked toward the sound. I cringed against the wall. “What are you going to do?”

  “Kill ’em. And if they send more, kill them too.”

  My heart curled up and dried out. How many more people were going to die because of me? “Just let me go. Then no one else has to get hurt.”

  Joshua crossed the space between us in a split second. He grabbed the front of my shirt with one hand and yanked me up in his face. His nose touched mine, and his foul breath spilled over me. “I. Will. Never. Let you go. Got that?” He pulled his head back and shook me. My body bounced around. “You’re mine.”

  I shrank away. Joshua wouldn’t let go of me.

  Suddenly, a tiny trickle of courage leaked into my heart. I force
d myself to lean toward him. Feigned a concerned look. “They’ll kill you.”

  Joshua’s mouth twisted. He stared into my soul with an expression of pure, selfish evil. “Ain’t nobody else gonna have you, Shaley. If I die, I’m takin’ you with me.”

  He pushed me back against the wall and stalked from the room.

  42

  Randy Sullivan was sweating through an early-morning workout when his cell went off. Bear’s ringtone. Randy snatched up the phone. “Crooner.”

  “We got ourselves a second chance with Shaley O’Connor.”

  Excitement shot through Randy. “You’re kidding. Where is she?”

  “In a cabin in north Montana.”

  Randy’s SWAT team served all of Utah, Idaho, and Montana. “They sure this time?”

  “She’s there. Fledger too. Local and state police have them surrounded. Fledger’s not communicating. I want you at the Stable in ten minutes. Immediate aerial transport to the scene; we’ll brief on the way. Get moving.”

  The line went dead.

  In sixty seconds Randy was gunning his car away from the gym.

  43

  Ronald Fledger! We have you surrounded.” The voice from the bullhorn echoed between the cabin and the nearby hill. “Come out with your hands on your head. Nobody will get hurt.”

  I cringed at one end of a worn blue couch in the cabin’s living room. I’d heard the voice for almost two hours now. The man had identified himself as Rick Schwartz with the state police. Joshua paced the room, from couch to kitchen and back again. His right hand gripped the shotgun, every movement jerking with tension. His curses mingled with prayers to God to save him.

  On the kitchen table lay three handguns. All fully loaded.

  How many policemen were outside now? Joshua had closed the cheap white curtains. I had only sound to go by—and I’d heard plenty. Cars arriving, doors slamming.

  Joshua halted abruptly and turned accusing eyes on me. “This is all your fault.”

  I swallowed. “If I go out there—”

  “If you weren’t such a celebrity.” He spat the word. “Picture all over the place. Strutting around with that mother of yours.”

  Oh, no, he didn’t. Joshua could say what he wanted about me, but not my mom. She would be dying with worry by now.

  “Just let me go, Joshua. This’ll all be o—”

  “Shut up. Shut up!” He stalked over and glared down at me. Evil and blame twisted his face.

  With a low growl in his throat, he raised the shotgun and pointed it at my head.

  I stared at him, heart pounding. This was it. He was going to pull the trigger.

  “Ronald Fledger!”

  Joshua whirled toward the sound, both arms thrust into the air. “Shut uuuuuupp!” he bellowed. He waved the gun and stomped toward the front door. “Shut up or she’s dead!”

  The bullhorn fell silent. Had they heard him?

  He swiveled back toward me. “You’ve done this to me! A prophet of God!”

  I bit my lip, barely daring to breathe. I had never seen Joshua this unstable. Trapped, he’d become a raving madman.

  How to rationalize with someone like that? How to save my own life?

  You won’t be saved, Shaley. Joshua had meant what he said. If they stormed the cabin, he’d kill me.

  A whop-whop sounded overhead. Helicopter. I’d heard it on and off.

  I thrust a hand in my straggly hair. It had long ago fallen from the rubber-banded ponytail. My scalp felt oily and sweaty. The bruises on my face were purple and black. My arms and hands were also still bruised, and the skin around my wrists remained raw.

  What a way to die.

  My eyes closed, and in my mind I saw my own broken body lying next to Joshua’s.

  No.

  The voice came from deep within me, barely audible, yet firm.

  Don’t give up.

  I opened my eyes. Watched crazy Joshua resume his stomping back and forth. Then you’d better help me, God. Because I’ve got nothing left in me.

  The whop-whop beat the air above the cabin, as if the helicopter hovered over us. Joshua stopped near the kitchen table, tipped his head up. He smacked the shotgun into both hands and pointed it at the ceiling.

  “No, don’t!” The cry burst from me before I could stop it. Joshua pivoted toward me. My hands dug into the couch cushions, my throat going dry. I gulped a breath. “If you shoot, they’ll come running in here. They will, Joshua. They’ll think you’re shooting at me.”

  “Maybe I will.”

  “Do you want to die? Do you really want to die?”

  He lowered the gun, suddenly looking like a lost child. “They won’t go away. They won’t leave me alone.”

  My head nodded. “We need to talk to them. I can tell them to back off.”

  “I’m not letting you go out there.”

  “I can shout through a window.”

  “No.”

  “Please. Just let me talk to them.”

  “No.”

  But his shoulders slumped a little more.

  I pushed to my feet.

  “Stay there!” He brandished the shotgun at me. “Sit down.”

  My foot took a step. Was I moving it? “I’m going to the window. I’ll tell them to go away.”

  “Don’t go near the window.”

  I took another step. “They’re not going to hurt me, Joshua. But you need to stay out of sight. You can be at the wall right next to me.”

  My legs moved me forward. Joshua watched me, indecision crisscrossing his face. His tongue poked out and licked his upper lip. He pointed the shotgun at me. “You tell them what I say.”

  “Okay. I will.”

  I reached the front wall, a few feet from the window. My legs shook. I turned to Joshua. “Don’t stand there in the middle of the room.”

  He moved to the wall on the other side of the front door. His legs were apart, his weapon trained on me. “Open the curtain.”

  In that instant I pictured dozens of men out there, guns pointed at the cabin. They probably had sharpshooters. One move of the curtain, and all those weapons would swing toward the window.

  What if they shot before they saw who it was?

  This was crazy. I couldn’t do it.

  “Open it!” Joshua’s face reddened.

  “I…what if they shoot?”

  “Shove your face against the window. They’ll see it’s you.”

  Maybe. Maybe not. What if the sun glared against the glass?

  My knees turned watery. Another minute and I would fall over. As if it belonged to someone else, my hand reached toward the center of the window. I grasped the curtain on my side. Pushed it back.

  Dead silence outside. I knew they’d seen the movement. Every eye was now trained on that window.

  “Go!” Joshua pushed the air with his left hand.

  I thrust myself toward the window. Pressed my face up to the glass. “Go away!” I yelled as loudly as I could. “I don’t want you here!”

  Joshua pressed against the wall, panting. “Say it again.”

  “I want to live here!” My left palm raised to the window. “Just leave us alone!”

  Nauseating fear spiraled through me. I yanked away from the window. My feet stumbled back until I caught myself.

  Silence.

  My eyes locked with Joshua’s.

  “Shaley, we hear you.” Schwartz’s voice rolled across the cabin. “Let’s talk some more. We can get you a two-way radio. Then we won’t have to shout.”

  I nodded at Joshua, silently pleading. If we could talk to them, maybe they’d calm him down. At least distract him. Maybe…something.

  “I got nothin’ to say to them,” Joshua hissed.

  “Then I’ll talk.” Somehow I kept my voice steady. “I’ll keep telling them I want to live here with you. That I’m happy. I can’t do it all through a window, Joshua.”

  “I ain’t lettin’ anybody come in here. Soon as that door opens, they’ll shoot.”<
br />
  Some force outside myself pushed me back to the glass. “How do we get the radio?” I yelled. “We don’t want anyone near the cabin!”

  “And you’re not goin’ outside, neither.” Joshua took a step closer.

  “Just a minute, Shaley,” the bullhorn said.

  Silence. Barely breathing, I stayed at the window. Come on, come on. Joshua could change his mind in a heartbeat.

  “Shaley.” The voice echoed. “We’ll lower it to you from the chopper. Right outside your door. All you have to do is open the door and pull it inside.”

  “No!” Joshua’s left fist bashed against the wall. “We ain’t openin’ the door!”

  “How else are we going to get it in here?”

  “We won’t. Forget it.”

  “Joshua, if we say no, at some point every one of them will come barreling in here. We have to convince them to go.”

  “No.”

  I turned back toward the window and shouted, “Okay, lower it!” Immediately I pulled back and slid the curtain shut.

  Joshua let loose a string of curses. “What’d you do that for?” He stalked toward me, fire in his eyes. “I’m just gonna kill you right now.”

  “Fine.” My throat tightened. I wanted to back away but held my ground. He stopped inches from me. “Then you’ll be all alone, with nothing to stop them from forcing their way in here.”

  “I’m not opening that door!” His face turned crimson.

  “Then that radio will sit! Just because it’s out there doesn’t mean we have to get it.”

  We glared at each other.

  Overhead the beat of helicopter wings receded.

  Joshua looked up. “It’s going away.” Anxiety edged the words.

  “To pick up the radio.”

  His chin jerked back down. He pinned me with a stare that iced my veins. “This better work. You better convince them to leave.”

  I held his gaze, fists pressed against my thighs. “I will.”

  Joshua backed off. I eased across the room and half fell onto the couch.

  We waited.

  Joshua resumed pacing. Outside all was quiet. My nerves felt like sawdust. Suddenly I didn’t want the radio. Once we had it, I’d have to keep up my act. I’d have to think clearly, keep one step ahead of Joshua. Where would I find the energy?

 

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