Virtually Harmless

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Virtually Harmless Page 22

by P. D. Workman

Bellows nodded grimly. “Yeah,” he agreed.

  “Through the woods this time. We can’t wait for them to come down the road looking for us.”

  “Your feet…”

  “They won’t freeze if we keep moving. Walking forces circulation through them. They’ll only freeze if we stop.”

  Bellows raised his eyebrows. But he had to know that their only chance to escape was to go through the woods and make their way down the mountain in as straight a route as possible. Staying on the road would just make it easier for the thugs to find them, and they were going to be returning from the cabin before very long.

  Without any further discussion, Bellows got to his feet, doing his best to stay low, below the level of the road. He held his hand out for Micah and got her moving. They made their way into the woods. Bellows looked around, seeming disoriented.

  “Just go down,” Micah reminded him. “Down is the way to civilization.”

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Micah kept stumbling along. It was not easy going over the rough ground through loose snow. If it had been trampled down a bit, it would have been easier. She had Bellows walk ahead of her so she could step in his footprints and not have to break trail. He kept looking back and talking to her so that he could be sure she was with him and hadn’t fallen down or decided to take a nap in the snow, which was a very tempting prospect. It would have been so much easier just to lie down and go to sleep.

  She kept listening for any sound from pursuers and, a couple of times, they heard voices or a car engine. Neither said anything about what was going to happen if they got caught. They couldn’t cover their trail and Micah couldn’t go any faster. But Kirk and his henchmen didn’t seem to have found their tracks yet. Maybe they had decided that sooner or later their quarry would have to make their way to the road and were keeping a lookout for them there.

  Micah tried not to think about how much time had passed or to calculate how much longer she could keep going, which felt like not at all. They had crossed the road, which switched back and forth several times, and the sun was getting high in the sky.

  “Why do you think he did it?” Micah asked, trying to focus on a problem other than her physical pains. “Just to protect his reputation?”

  “High-powered political types are very sensitive about things that could damage their reputations or make them look bad in some way. They’ll do just about anything to protect themselves. In some ways… their rep is more important than even their lives. Certainly more important than anyone else’s.”

  Micah thought about this, shaking her head. “I can’t imagine being that concerned about what people think of me.”

  Bellows chuckled. “Your parents raised you right, then. Most of the people in the world—or at least America—are very concerned about how other people see them, about not stepping out of line in fashion, goals, leisure activities, anything. Keeping up with the Joneses doesn’t even begin to describe it. They are so sensitive to how people look at them, it’s devastating to be publicly shamed or bullied.”

  “Yeah. I’ve seen that. But I’d rather be different and be happy with myself than the other way around.”

  “There’s a lot of self-hate in the world. No one can succeed in being everything society thinks they should be.”

  “Even if you do what the Joneses think you should, there’s still the Smiths across the street,” Micah contributed. “And they think you should be something else.”

  “Exactly.”

  Micah thought about it, stepping carefully into Bellows’s tracks. “Do you think it’s the way I was raised, or innate?”

  “You’re the expert on genes. You tell me. Nature or nurture?”

  “My parents care a lot more about appearances than I ever have, so I think it must be nature. They can probably influence it to an extent, but I definitely have a preference for non-conformity.”

  They kept going. A cloud covered the sun and it was suddenly a lot darker in the thick woods. Micah looked at her wrist, wanting to know what time it was. And when was sunset? What were they going to do if it got dark and they weren’t any closer to safety?

  “You haven’t said much about your parents,” Bellows said, keeping Micah engaged. “You must have had a better experience than Trish.”

  “They’re very good. Very loving. My experience was more like Sweetie’s than Trisha’s. It’s a lot easier for a kid who lands in their permanent family as an infant than one who gets bounced around when she’s older than five.”

  ❋

  When they next reached the highway, Bellows stopped Micah. The slope was not as steep as it had been, and the highway was wide and paved, with the sound of traffic in the distance.

  “It’s time. We need to try to get help now.”

  “What if we flag down the bad guys?”

  “Harder for them to do anything on the highway. We’ll pray for good luck.”

  Micah looked at him. He closed his eyes briefly, looking grim, before opening them again and looking either direction.

  “Any idea which way to town?”

  Micah had been watching the progress of the sun. “Right, I think. We’ll know after the first car. Even if it’s going the wrong way… if we can get a ride anywhere, we should take it. Get as far away from Kirk as we can.”

  They walked on the side of the highway, waiting. When a car came toward them, Bellows stepped out in the middle of the lane and held up his hands, motioning them to stop with such authority that the car slowed to a stop instead of honking and swerving around them. Still, the driver was cautious, only rolling his window down an inch to talk to Bellows.

  “Deputy Bellows, sheriff’s department,” Bellows identified himself briskly. “We’re in a desperate situation here. Can we get a ride into town?”

  The young man’s eyes went from Bellows over to Micah. They must have both looked a sight. Walking all day without proper clothing, fearing discovery any minute. Micah wanted to turn away from his gaze, but she forced herself to stay still. Let him see her blue, cut-up feet. Her feverish eyes. She was probably as white as a ghost. It would be obvious to him, even without Bellows’s words, that they were in dire circumstances.

  The driver hit the switch to unlock the power locks.

  “Thank you!” Bellows told him sincerely, and went around to the passenger side to help Micah in. “You take the front,” he offered.

  Micah shook her head. “I’d rather not be sitting next to a stranger.”

  He considered for a moment, then opened the back door for her and made sure that she was able to lift her foot high enough to get in, and then gave her a little boost to get her into the seat when her legs couldn’t manage the shift in her weight. He pulled the seatbelt across her and clicked it into place, then shut the door. He got into the front seat beside the helpful stranger. As they pulled out, he looked behind them, as if expecting the goons to burst out of the trees at any moment, or to come racing down the highway in pursuit. Everything stayed quiet.

  “Do you have any water?” Bellows asked the driver.

  The young man indicated a small cooler in the back seat, and Bellows reached back to pull out a couple of bottles of water. He cracked the seal on the first and passed it to Micah and kept the other for himself. Micah dribbled the water into her mouth. She didn’t feel thirsty. She didn’t feel cold. She just felt foggy. And tired. And sore.

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  When she next awoke, Bellows was trying to pry her out of the car. She put her hands up to stop him and looked around, disoriented.

  “What is it? Where are we?”

  “Hospital. A couple of officers will meet us here. Can you get out? You weren’t waking up for me… and I really didn’t want you to. You need rest.”

  Micah looked toward the emergency doors of the hospital. “No… I just want to go home. No hospital.”

  “I’m going to have to insist. This is not one of those cases where you can decide for yourself. You have hypothermia and are m
ore than likely dehydrated and exhausted. You could lie down and never wake up again. Come on. I’ll carry you.”

  “I’m too heavy for you,” Micah countered, swinging her feet out the door and pausing to steady herself.

  “You look like you could blow away in a strong wind.”

  “That’s an illusion. I’m tall, so it looks like I’m a waif, but I’m not.”

  He offered his arm, and Micah took it, glad to have something to hold on to. She didn’t want to be carried in, but she wasn’t going to crawl, either. Her legs barely supported her, wobbling and shaking like a kitten’s.

  Closer to the entrance was a fleet of wheelchairs with the hospital’s name stenciled across them, and Bellows guided her into one of them.

  “I don’t need a wheelchair,” Micah protested. But she slid into the seat anyway, her exhausted body too tired and sore to continue all the way to the emergency room triage and chairs.

  Bellows lifted her feet into the footrests, released the wheel brake, and pushed her through the big automatic doors. He knew his way around the hospital and, even though he didn’t have his identification on him, he was able to talk Micah to the front of the triage line, listing all of the issues that could stop her heart in the next five minutes. While Micah had always ended up waiting for hours in the emergency room before, she was on a gurney almost immediately, with a monitor pinched to her finger and an IV inserted into her arm. Despite her dehydration, the nurse managed to get the IV in the first time and smiled grim satisfaction as she taped it into place.

  “This is the fastest way to get fluids into you. And we’re going to give you some warming blankets, so you’ll be nice and toasty soon.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Is there someone I can call for you? Spouse? Next of kin?”

  “My mom. Actually, my dad.” It was probably best if he took the call and then broke the news to Micah’s mother. She gave the nurse Cole’s phone number.

  “Good. I’ll make sure they know that you’re here and that you’re being well taken care of. Someone will be in shortly to clean up your feet and to see what aftercare they will need.” The nurse shook her head. “I’m not sure I understand what was going on out there… but it’s not a good time of year to get lost in the woods.”

  “No,” Micah agreed. “Summer would have been much easier.”

  Although, then there were biting insects to worry about, poison ivy, nettles, and large predators. At least in the winter, most of those were not a problem. It was a good thing they’d managed to get picked up before nightfall. Micah would not have wanted to deal with coyotes or wolves on her trail, smelling fresh blood.

  The nurse continued to make notes on Micah’s chart about the various treatments she was being given and Micah’s answers to various questions. Some of the questions, Micah thought, were not so much necessary for her treatment, as to make sure that she was coherent and knew where she was.

  She didn’t know how long it was, dozing and being woken every now and then by nurses or interns for treatment, before her parents got there. They had probably been in the waiting room for some time before they were allowed to see Micah.

  Marianna’s eyes were rimmed with red, and she put her arms around Micah, giving her the best hug she could manage while Micah was in the bed. “Oh, sweetie! We were so worried about you! When we got to the house and you were gone, you can’t imagine how afraid we were for you! We’ve had every police force in the region out looking for you.” A couple of tears slid down her face as she beamed at Micah. “I’m so glad to see you—to see that you’re okay.”

  “I’m fine, Mom. Or I will be, anyway. No permanent damage.”

  “What happened? You’ll have to tell us everything.”

  Micah wasn’t sure she wanted to tell them everything. She didn’t want them to be any more upset than they already were. She looked at Cole.

  “How did you… when did you get to the house?” She hadn’t been expecting them that morning. She’d told them that she was on the mend and didn’t need them to stop by. But they must have anyway.

  “I got an alert from the security company on my phone. They said that the power to your system had been cut and they were not able to reach you on the phone to confirm that you were okay. By the time we got there, the police were already there ahead of us. But none of us had any idea what had happened to you or where you had gone.”

  “Is the kitten okay?”

  He laughed. Marianna leaned close to Micah again, kissing her on the forehead. “Your kitten is fine. She’s wondering what happened to you, but she was still inside, and she’s been fed, and you don’t need to worry about it. We’ll look after her until you’re home again.”

  “And they didn’t burn it down?” Micah knew it wasn’t logical. Obviously, if the kitten was safe inside, they had not burned it, but she’d worried about it all day and needed to hear their reassurance.

  “No, they didn’t burn your house down,” Cole assured her.

  Chapter Fifty

  “So, what happened?” Marianna asked, “Can you tell us?”

  There was the sound of footsteps, and Micah looked up warily, needing to assure herself that it wasn’t Kirk or one of his men. Instead, it was Bellows. He still looked much the same as he had all day, but his cheeks were pink and he was smiling. Much better than the grave expression he had been wearing all day as they both wondered whether they were going to survive the ordeal.

  “Mind if I come in?” he queried. “These must be your folks. Am I intruding?”

  “No, come in,” Micah told him, motioning to a guest chair. “Sit down. Dad can get more chairs.”

  Cole looked around.

  “This is Deputy Frank Bellows,” Micah introduced him. “He and I were together. I don’t think I could have made it out without him.”

  “And I know I wouldn’t have made it out without Micah,” Bellows said. “I’d still be tied up in that shack. Or… worse.” He cut himself off from saying that he would be dead, having regard for her mother’s look of anxiety. “But now we’re both safe.”

  “What happened?” Cole asked, standing beside her rather than looking for more chairs. “I don’t understand where you were and what happened. Someone kidnapped you?”

  Micah nodded. “They cut the power and I guess jammed the phone after remotely wiping it. There were too many of them for me to escape. At least three. Probably another one waiting at the back door.” Tears came to her eyes and she felt the illogical need to apologize. “I’m sorry, Dad. I did my best…”

  “Of course you did! I don’t expect you to be able to fight off four men! Probably armed, too. No, you didn’t do anything wrong, baby. Don’t think that.”

  “They wanted to destroy the evidence. And I guess… that included me and Frank too. We knew too much. I had figured out his identity. He wanted to stop us before we could get any farther and expose him.”

  “Who?”

  Micah looked over at Bellows to make sure that it was okay to give them that information. He wouldn’t want anything to leak out. They needed to be able to arrest Kirk Haynes before he knew what was happening. Bellows shrugged.

  “Kirk Haynes,” Micah told Cole. “He’s—”

  “I know who Haynes is. He’s an unbearable twit. But a criminal? We never had any reason to suspect him when I was on the force.”

  “We don’t know all of what he’s involved in,” Bellows said. “But it looks like at the minimum, he was involved in the sex trade. With someone as high-powered as he is, I expect it goes much deeper than that. He probably has his fingers in a lot of pies.”

  “I never would have pegged him as a gangster. He seemed harmless. It just goes to show that you can’t judge a book by its cover. So how was Micah involved with this? One of her drawings?”

  Micah nodded. “He’s the man who attacked me. And who probably…” Another glance at Bellows and another nod. “He probably killed Sweetgrass Doe’s mother as well.”

  Mari
anna shook her head, pale and waxen. She swore quietly. Marianna never swore.

  “He was Sweetie’s father. I was the one who uncovered the connection, and I drew a composite based on his DNA. I sent it to Frank…”

  “And it was apparently intercepted,” Bellows agreed. “We’ve got a mole… When he saw the picture, he told Haynes, and Haynes took action… destroying all evidence of the picture and managing to kidnap me.” Bellows looked embarrassed by this. As if an experienced cop shouldn’t have been kidnapped. But as with Micah, with the element of surprise and overwhelming force, it hadn’t been that hard. It wasn’t like TV where the cop knew kung fu and could whip all of their butts as they attacked one at a time. There were several of them, and they had weapons and the ability to catch him by surprise when he was alone.

  “And me,” Micah offered. “And they were checking my computer to see where I had saved it and who I had sent it to so that they could cover it up.”

  “Looks like they took your laptop with them,” Cole said apologetically. “It wasn’t in your office.”

  “Yeah, I figured.”

  “So that evidence is gone,” Bellows said. “And what about all of the information on the EvPro servers? He’ll have wiped that too.”

  “He’d have to find it first.”

  Bellows raised an eyebrow.

  “I didn’t put it under his name,” Micah offered.

  “But as a John Doe? Papa Doe?”

  Micah shook her head. “I used… the name of a friend of mine. He wouldn’t know unless he looked through one file at a time, or wiped all of my recent files from the server.”

  Bellows’s eyes glittered. “That was very smart of you. What name was that?”

  Micah was suddenly uneasy. She remembered Kirk’s claim that Bellows was working with him and had made sure that the picture didn’t get any farther. Was he telling the truth, or was Bellows when he said there was another spy within the sheriff’s department?

  He was the one who had helped her to escape from Kirk. He had been held captive just as she had. There was no doubt of that. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t been working for Haynes, just that Kirk Haynes had no longer considered him useful. And he might consider Bellows useful once more if he solved a problem for him.

 

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