Running On Empty

by Colette Ballard

  In order to make that a reality, I had to face the reason I was here—the reason I had risked everything to come back to Dahlia. I had to find the girl that Logan assaulted. I had to find her and beg her to tell me her story, and then have her agree to stand behind me in a courtroom. It was a long shot, but it was the only one I had.

  Before I put my foot on the first of the cabin steps, an idea hit me. I needed a computer. Since I couldn’t just pop in at the local library and use the Internet, I did the next best thing—I headed back to Justice’s house. After giving Hank a few minutes of playtime, I did what I had done a zillion times before. I went around the side of the house to his bedroom window and found my ticket to entry—a sliver of metal tucked snugly in a loose piece of siding below his window, kept there in case we ever got locked out.

  Back when we were neighbors, we’d sneak out after dark and meet in the adjoining fields behind our houses. We’d lay under our favorite tree and count stars and talk about our dreams way into the night. And if Jack was on one of his drinking binges or I simply didn’t want to go home, I’d spend the night at Justice’s house. He always kept a cot stuffed under his bed along with a storage container of my own set of sheets, blankets, and a pillow.

  With more enthusiasm than I should have had, I rattled the metal piece under the lock, pushed the window up, and climbed in. After turning the computer on and waiting for it to dial up, I took a look around my old refuge. Forcing myself to stay focused, I went to Google and typed in Rachel Banard, then crossed my fingers while the computer chugged away. When I found a name that had a Dahlia, Texas address listed, my heart rate increased. My excitement was short-lived after the only address listed for her was the same one that my sister had e-mailed me previously. Jamie said Rachel had moved, but where? The old information probably wouldn’t do me any good, but I printed it out along with a map and stuck them in my back pocket.

  I was about to log off when my fingers took charge and typed in Carl MaKade. My palms were sweaty as I scrolled carefully through each page of listings. When Taylor Police Department, Texas came up, I clicked on it and waited. There it was, plain as day: the address of my father’s police department, only forty-eight miles away. I knew how to get to Taylor, Texas—I’d passed through there before on the way to horse shows—so finding his home address in a small, trusting town wouldn’t be that difficult. Hopefully.

  After I printed out the information, I stuffed it in my pocket along with Rachel’s info. I was in the process of turning off the computer when I heard Justice’s truck. Crap. What was he doing home? Remembering it wasn’t easy to shut a window behind oneself, I shut it from the inside and started for the back door. Crap, crap! The front door creaked open, so I went back to the window, opened it, and swung myself out. I’m sure it looked very Spider-man-esque—except for the one problem. I smacked my foot on the glass. Hard.

  In no time, Justice was leaning out his window, grinning at me as I lay on my butt on the ground below. “Could’ve used the front door, ya know. It was unlocked.”

  “Right.” Heat rose to my cheeks as I sat up.

  “Find what you needed?”

  “No…actually, I didn’t. I was…going to borrow some shampoo.” I grabbed my hair. “But you only had the manly smelling kind, so…”

  He shook his head and grinned my favorite uneven dimple grin.

  “I thought you had to work.” I skillfully changed the subject.

  “Forgot my wallet, and I need gas.”

  “Bummer.”

  “Yeah.” He pressed his lips together. “Almost as much as you falling out my window and landing in the mud.”

  I looked at the mud on my hands and pushed myself up off the ground. “Almost.”

  “Well, I gotta run. I’ll swing by the drugstore and pick up some shampoo for you on my way home. What kind would you like—industrial strength?”

  I fake-smiled. “Surprise me.”

  “Try to be more careful next time—or at least until I get back.”

  “No worries,” I said as I wiped at the mud on the back of my jeans. I could hear him laughing behind me as I headed toward the cabin.

  Dammit, had I turned his computer off?

  21

  PLOTTING

  When I got back to the cabin, my friends were sitting at the kitchen table eating cereal. Kat raised her eyebrows as I stood in the doorway. “Early morning mud wrestling?”

  “Oh, a little nature hike with Justice.” I pulled off my muddy shoes. “And a little web surfing.” I handed Kat the information I’d found on Rachel Banard.

  Kat scanned the paper. “Great, you have the same address we already had. Now what?”

  Billi Jo cleared her throat. “This may be a silly question, but isn’t Justice wondering what we’re doing back in Texas?”

  Kat spoke up before I could answer. “I don’t really think he cares. River’s been keeping him so distracted with strolls along the countryside and reminiscing about the olden days, he can’t think straight yet.”

  Since making fun of me gave her true joy, I let her comment slide. “Yeah, he keeps asking, but I keep putting him off. The less he knows, the safer it is. I don’t want to drag him into this mess any more than he already is by us staying here. That’s why my plan of action needs to start tomorrow—right after he leaves for work.”

  Kat narrowed her eyes. “Wait, didn’t you just use his computer, so doesn’t he know what you’re doing? And uh…what plan of action?”

  “I sort of waited until he left for work before I used his computer. And my plan is to get Rachel’s school records. Asking my sister to sneak into Rachel’s school file is a last resort.” I poured myself a bowl of Cocoa Puffs. “But I could always break in to the sch—”

  “Funny joke.” Kat glared at me as she crunched her cereal.

  Billi Jo chewed a mouthful of chocolate-covered Styrofoam while she spoke. “What do people do when they change their address? How do they get their mail and stuff?” Her spoon clanked against her bowl when she dropped it. “I have an idea. But we need a phone—a cell phone, preferably, so it’ll have a different area code.”

  “Mm, I saw Justice’s in his room earlier. He’s gone, so if we hurry, we can use his phone before he gets back.”

  We ditched our cereal and raced to his house. My friends headed for the back door. “Door’s open,” Kat called, but I was already headed for Justice’s window. I’d have to sharpen my skills if I continued to lead a life on the lam.

  I met them in the kitchen with Justice’s phone. Billi Jo took the phone from me and flipped through the phone book until she found the number for the post office.

  I put my hand on top of the phone book. “Wait. Why are you calling the post office?”

  “We need an address, don’t we?”

  “So the post office is just gonna hand out a residential address to anybody?”

  Billi Jo gave me a sly smile. “That depends on who’s working. Since the Dahlia post office is a one-man show, and I happen to know a little background information on Mr. Baker…” She started punching numbers. “My uncle paid me to do this once when he was tracking down a guy that owed him money. Worked like a charm.”

  “Hello, Mr. Baker, this is Florence Medley,” Billi Jo drawled in her sexiest Southern belle voice, which was hilarious considering she had bleached hair and a silver stud sparkling in her nose. “Remember me? Ohhh that’s right, you probably don’t remember. We met in rehab—in your early days. Well listen, you told me if you could ever return a favor for the, um, pills I slipped you, to call. I just need a current address for someone, that’s all.

  “Well yes, sweetheart, I realize address changes are confidential, but I imagine you’d like to keep your stint in rehab confidential, too.” Billi Jo winked at us while she waited for his response.

  “I just need the current address for a Miss Rachel Banard.” After a few minutes of silence, she scribbled something down. “No need to worry, hon, your secret is safe with
me.”

  Billi Jo hung up the phone and handed me the information we had risked everything for. I gave her a big hug, and we all did a happy dance. Before leaving, I made a quick detour back into Justice’s room. Relieved to see that I had turned off the computer earlier, I flipped it back on, typed in the new address, and printed out a map. This time I double-checked to make sure I turned everything off. I wouldn’t be able to explain two break-ins in one day.

  When we reached the cabin, we plopped ourselves down on the porch. Ready to plot phase two of our secret mission, I set the map on the floor and trailed my finger along the best route. “We’ll stay along these back roads in case of any road blocks. Law enforcement’s gonna be pretty cranky after going all the way to Nevada and finding no trace of us. According to my calculations, it should take us four hours to get to the Banards’ place. That translates to about three hours and fifteen minutes on Speed Racer’s time.” I pointed at Kat. “We’ll go first thing in the morning, right after Justice leaves for work. He said he has to work ten-hour days the rest of the week, so there shouldn’t be any problems.”

  “Shouldn’t be any problems. But have you noticed, River, that with anything involving you, there’s usually a problem?” Kat asked.

  “Yeah, yeah,” I went on, “but seriously, we should have more than enough time to get to Rachel’s, talk to her, then get back before Justice comes home from work. He’ll never know we were gone.”

  “He’s gonna be pissed if he knows you’re out sneaking around without telling him,” Kat warned in a sing-song voice.

  “It’s for his own protection.”

  “Isn’t that what you claimed last time when everything went straight to hell?” Billi Jo asked.

  “Come on, you guys, just back me on this. I got us all into this mess, and I’m gonna get us out.” I put my fist out for our ‘all for one’ sign and motioned for my friends to do the same.

  They looked at each other, then me, and put their fists in.

  After a canned ravioli dinner, we were sitting on the porch watching the sun go down when Justice showed up. He came to the side of the cabin looking equal parts suspicious and handsome. “You know, River, for somebody that’s been breaking and entering as long as you have, you’re not all that good at it.”

  “Huh?” I gasped, hurt by the insult.

  “Mind tellin’ me what you were doin’ on my computer?” With his hands on his hips, he waited for whatever idiotic excuse I would come up with.

  “Whaaa…?” I stalled.

  “You left my computer on this mornin’.”

  “Oh, that. Well…”

  “Quit stallin’, the truth will do.” He motioned his hand at me to give it up.

  Crap. If he checked the history on the computer, he’d know. “Okay, you got me. I was looking up the address of an old friend—thought she might have some info that’d help me out.” Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Kat’s intense gaze. “No luck, though; she moved away a long time ago. We haven’t figured out how to find her yet.”

  “Yes, we have,” Billi Jo said through the Twizzler she gnawed on.

  Her jumbled words got Justice’s attention. “What was that?”

  The look of death I shot her warned her to come up with a good answer. She held out her bag of candy. “Want a Twizzler?”

  “No, thanks,” Justice answered politely, then focused on me again. “So?”

  “Sooo, until we figure something else out, I guess we’ll just have to hang out here for a while where it’s nice and safe.” I patted the wooden floor of the porch.

  My friends nodded their heads in unison, agreeing with me that that was exactly what we’d be doing. I hated deceiving Justice, but I wasn’t willing to risk him getting in further trouble. He was already risking too much by letting us hide out at the cabin.

  “Sounds like a sensible idea,” Justice agreed then handed me a small sack—my shampoo, I assumed.

  “That’s me, sensible.” I smiled.

  Kat took advantage of the momentary distraction to throw him off our trail. “So, handsome, where’re you off to?”

  Three sets of eyes traveled from his weathered brown cowboy boots, to his blue jeans, to the tan biceps accentuated by the rolled-up sleeves of his faded plaid shirt.

  He slipped his hands in his back pockets. “Uh…I have a date.”

  My stomach reeled as if I’d been mule-kicked. Of course he had a date. That’s what you do when you have a girlfriend. You go on a perfectly normal date in the middle of the week, wearing perfect date-wearing clothes, on a night with perfect weather. Perfect.

  “Mmm, too bad,” Billi Jo mumbled, but we all pretended not to hear her.

  He started to walk away and then turned back. “And by the way, River, this little avoiding game isn’t really workin’. Just so we’re clear: you and me, Q and A, tomorrow night after I get off work.” With two fingers he pointed to his eyes, then to me, then back at his eyes.

  I gave him a weak smile.

  “If ya’ll need anything, you know where my house is. I left the door open.” He glanced at me, and yes, I noted the ever so slight emphasis on door. “Promise me you won’t do anything…adventurous while I’m gone tonight.”

  “Promise,” I said sincerely. I knew full well that I wasn’t going to do anything ‘adventurous’ while he was gone tonight.

  Tomorrow was a whole different ballgame.

  22

  ROAD TRIP

  We made the trip to Holten in good time and followed the directions to a very nice end of town. Mile after mile, we drove past neighborhoods with fancy names and stone entrances. Paved drives led to beautiful homes with manicured lawns. By the time we reached a two-story brick house at the end of a cul-de-sac with the Banards’ address, my breathing had become erratic. “What if nobody’s home?”

  “Then we’ll wait,” Kat answered.

  “But—”

  “There’s no time for second thoughts,” Kat said, pushing me out the door.

  I crept to the house, and after wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans, rang the doorbell—only half wanting someone to answer it. After what seemed an eternity, a lady answered the door. “Hello, Ms. Banard…is Rachel home?”

  Eyeing me, she asked, “And you are?”

  “An old school friend.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. Rachel would’ve gone to Mason County High had she stayed in town long enough, and we might’ve even been friends.

  “What school?” She was understandably guarded.

  “Uh, Mason County High.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “She never went there.”

  “But she would’ve if you hadn’t moved, right?”

  “Young lady, tell me what you want with her.” Her voice was strained and edgy.

  About that time, a young teenage girl came bounding down the steps. “Mom, who’s—” She froze on the steps. The look on her face gave it away—they both knew exactly who I was and why I was there.

  “I think you’d better leave.” Her mother gripped the side of the door.

  Looking past her to Rachel, I asked, “Please, can I talk to you? Just for a minute.” This wasn’t going to be easy. It was obvious they had put this behind them and didn’t want to dredge it up again, much less be associated with a wanted criminal. I had to talk fast before the enormity of what all this meant hit them. “I just want to ask you a few questions. I know you’ve seen me all over the news, but it wasn’t how they made it sound. It was an accident, a horrible accident that I regret deeply. I was trying to defend myself because he attacked me, he was going to…” I couldn’t say the word out loud, but I could tell by their faces that they were capable of filling in the blank.

  Ms. Banard straightened the collar on her over-starched shirt. “I’m sorry to hear that, but what has that got to do with us?”

  “I’ve been told that your daughter was attacked by him a year earlier.”

  “Well, you were told wrong,” she snapped.

  My eyes plead
ed with Rachel, but she glanced quickly away. “It’s true, isn’t it?”

  Ms. Banard’s voice quivered. “You need to leave.”

  “Please.” My eyes darted back and forth between the two of them. “I’ve been on the run since it all happened, and I don’t have a chance in hell of getting out of this mess unless I have a solid witness. The Westfields think I murdered their son in cold blood, and you know as well as I do they have the power to put me away for good. Please, Rachel, your testimony is my only hope.”

  Ms. Banard’s face was tight. “There is no truth to what you’ve been told. We couldn’t help you even if we wanted to. I’m sorry for what happened to you, but my daughter has nothing to do with this. Don’t ever come back here or I’m calling the police,” she warned. I caught a quick glimpse of Rachel and the tortured look on her face right before her mother shut the door.

  “Please help me. Please.” I banged on the wooden door with both hands. After a few minutes with no response, I let my hands slide away. I floated back to the car, crawled in, and leaned my head forward against the headrest of the front seat in an effort not to dry heave. That was it, my last chance. My friends didn’t even bother to comfort me as we drove away. There was nowhere to go from here, and we all knew it.

  As we neared the end of the nice area of the countryside, Billi Jo finally broke the silence. Gazing out the window, she said, “These neighborhoods are nice and all—a hell of a lot better than Castle Court—but they still don’t hold a candle to the Westfields’ place. I mean, technically, Rachel Banard was beneath him, and you were like…at the bottom of the food chain.”

  “Nice, Billi Jo,” Kat said.

  “Oh, come on. I can’t be the only one that thought it was weird he was dating someone from the trailer park. I mean, people with money usually stick to their own kind, or at least stay in the same ballpark—the whole peasants and royalty thing.”