by Laura Scott
“I appreciate the warning.” She gave a delicate shiver, then eyed him shrewdly. “There’s more, isn’t there? You’re thinking that one of us might be behind what’s going on.”
“You’re very quick, Ms. Thomas,” Paige said.
“It’s Reva.” Out came a flash of whiter-than-white teeth in a patented politician’s smile. “I’m smart enough to do the math.” She turned to Liam. “But I have a hard time seeing members of our friends’ families going around killing people.”
“Maybe you won’t have such a hard time when I tell you that some people still carry grudges,” he said and explained about Mr. Howard and Pope’s wife and son. “Now someone is trying to kill me.”
“I can’t believe it,” Reva said, shaking her head. “I never bore you or any of the other kids who survived ill will. After all, I’m a survivor, too.”
Liam recalled that she’d taken some teasing over her job as equipment manager, as it didn’t carry the prestige of being on the cheerleading squad itself. Somehow she’d managed to get out of the bus on her own and swim to the surface.
Because she was younger than the other survivors, she had been largely lost in the shuffle and no one had paid much attention to her. When she was remembered, it was always as “Marie’s little sister.”
“I know. You were one of the few people who was still speaking to me by the end of school.”
“It wasn’t your fault that kids died any more than it was mine. I’m sorry, Liam. I remember most of the folks treated you like a hero, but I guess some blamed you for not getting their kids out. You did your best. That’s what I told my parents when they were grieving Marie, the same as I told everyone else.”
“Thanks, Reva. That means a lot.”
“About these accidents...” she spread her hands “... I just don’t know. I didn’t realize that they were anything but that until you showed up. Now I’m wondering if I’m at risk.” A delicate shudder punctuated her words as twin lines worked their way across her brow.
“Have you noticed anyone following you?” Paige asked.
“No. But I’ve been pretty preoccupied.” Her worried look relaxed into a thoughtful expression. “I can ask my staffers if they’ve noticed anyone strange hanging around. They’re pretty protective of me.” She gave a light laugh. “We’ve become a kind of family. They believe in me and what I want for the town, for the state.”
“Family is good, wherever it comes from,” Liam said.
“That’s what I thought. My staff is the best. They make sure I remember to eat and sleep. I’m fortunate to have them. All in all, I’m doing okay.”
“I’d say you’ve done more than okay,” Paige said. “You’re very young to be mayor, and now you’re running for the state senate.”
“Thanks. It’s a lot to take on. I hope I’m up to the job.” The words were modest, but the smug tilt of her smile was not. Its brilliance radiated a confidence that said she was not only up to the job but would soon move on to even bigger things.
“I’m sure you are,” Liam said.
“I really wish I could help. After I graduated, I didn’t keep in touch with kids from school much. It was—” she lifted a slim shoulder “—too hard with losing Marie. And I was never really a part of the rest of you. I know what the kids thought, that I was just a hanger-on, being cheerleading equipment manager. It wasn’t much, but it let me hang out with all you handsome football players.” She gave Liam a wink and reached for his hand, held it a beat too long. “Marie always said you were a hero. You proved it that day.”
Uncomfortable with the praise, Liam ducked his head. “Thanks,” he mumbled. “But I wasn’t a hero any more than anyone else.”
“You were a hero in my book. What you did took guts.”
“Thanks, Reva. Like I said, not everyone feels that way.”
“You know what I do when people don’t like me? I put them out of my mind and move on.” She snapped her fingers. “Easy-peasy.”
After a few more minutes, Liam and Paige made their goodbyes. Back in the truck, he turned to her. “What did you think?”
“She comes across as straightforward.”
“‘Comes across’? Does that mean you don’t think she is?”
“It means I don’t know. She’s ambitious and is aiming for bigger things. Things that will take her beyond Willow Springs, even beyond the state capital.”
Liam was dubious. “Being mayor of Willow Springs and running for state senator doesn’t exactly make her a power player.”
“But that isn’t where she intends to end up.”
“How do you know?”
“Her shoes.”
He shot her an incredulous look. “Her shoes?”
“Jimmy Choo. Trust me. I know good shoes even though I can’t afford them. She’s dressing for the job she wants. I’m guessing Congress. From there it’s a hop, skip and jump to governor. And from there, who knows?” Paige sent him a teasing smile. “She had a crush on you back in the day. Like most of the girls.”
“You, too?” Why had he asked that? It came off as sounding desperate.
But Paige didn’t seem to mind answering. “Of course. I had the biggest crush of all on you. I was afraid to even look at you for fear you’d discover my secret.”
And now? But this time he had the sense to keep his mouth shut. And what was he doing, quizzing Paige about feelings that were fifteen years old?
“You were big-man-on-campus,” she said, appearing not to notice his silence. “Every boy wanted to be you and every girl wanted to date you.”
He shook his head, partly in negation of the boy he had been. “I was young and full of myself. My head was so big that I’m surprised I could get my football helmet on.” He sent her a curious look. “I’m flattered a girl like you ever paid attention to me. You were always studying.”
“I was trying to get through high school as quickly as possible. Those years weren’t happy ones for me.”
“I’m sorry. Sorry I didn’t see how lonely you were. I was Brett’s friend. I should have noticed, should have paid attention.”
“You have nothing to feel sorry about. All the girls were dying to be asked out by you. But you had eyes only for Marie.”
He remembered. Marie had been everything to him. Looking back, he wondered whether they would have remained together after graduation. She had always dreamed of going to New York and starring on Broadway. As for him...he hadn’t looked beyond the next football game. Shallow didn’t begin to describe him.
Until the accident.
Until everything had changed.
* * *
As Liam drove, Paige looked out the window at the woods, her gaze taking in towering pines and dense underbrush as she stored away impressions of Reva Thomas. The woman was pretty, smart and clearly ambitious. Her attitude regarding people who didn’t like her seemed a healthy one, if a bit shallow. Better that than internalizing everything as she did, Paige reflected.
Her thoughts moved on to Jerry Newley. Something about yesterday’s visit bothered her, but she couldn’t identify it. Jerry had been welcoming enough, so it wasn’t that. Something she’d seen in the house, maybe, but the memory wouldn’t jog loose. She was left with a niggling sense of having missed something important, leaving her feeling unsettled. Grasping at it, she thought she had it until it spun and floated away. From experience, she knew that the harder she thought on it, the more elusive it became.
“Where to now?” Liam asked.
“I want to head back to S&J to do some research about people’s finances. Whoever is behind this has access to money. It isn’t cheap to stage accidents or hire trained men.”
“Good plan.”
But just as he said it, two high-riding pickups drove up on their tail. Liam slowed to let them pass. One did, while the other remained behind.
&nb
sp; “Our shooter is back,” Liam said, “and he’s brought a friend.”
Within minutes, the trucks had sandwiched Liam’s rented car between them. Hemmed in, Liam and Paige had nowhere to go.
Paige assessed their options, a steely coldness overtaking her. Escape first. Fight later. Only they weren’t given the choice as the pickups closed the space.
“Can you take out the truck behind us?” Liam asked.
“Watch me.”
She rolled down her window and aimed at the front end of the truck following them, putting three shots in the engine block, a much easier target than a tire. Taking out a tire on a moving vehicle wasn’t nearly as easy as television cop shows portrayed.
That took care of the men behind them, but she and Liam still had to deal with the truck just ahead of them.
It sped up, then did a quick 180 in the road, barreling straight at them.
“Hang on,” Liam said as he swerved to miss the huge black truck.
She was doing just that.
He overcompensated, and the car spun off the road. “We’re going over.”
Instinctively, she braced herself.
The car teetered on the edge of the road, then rolled down an embankment.
The impact was fierce. Metal crunched. Glass shattered. Airbags deployed.
Two men from the second truck were heading toward Paige and Liam’s disabled vehicle.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” she said.
Paige and Liam scrambled from the vehicle and plunged into the marsh just seconds before the men reached them.
The wind made a mournful noise, tickling the back of her neck before it slid down her shirt in a chilly blast. She shivered and wondered how long she and Liam had before the rain started and things turned really hairy.
She didn’t have to wait long.
The rain came in stinging pellets, unbelievably cold.
With their pursuers gaining with every second, Paige and Liam ran through the marsh, Liam taking the lead. Something about the spongy ground just ahead of them sent off warning bells in her brain.
“Wait,” she yelled. “Quicksand!”
EIGHT
Her cry came too late. Liam was already waist-deep in the deadly bog.
She had to get him out before he sank any deeper. She undid her shirt, grateful she had a long-sleeved T-shirt underneath. After knotting the end of one sleeve and wrapping the other around her hand, she tossed it toward Liam.
“It’s not long enough.”
All the while, the men were getting closer, ever closer.
“Get out of here,” Liam ordered. “It’s me they want. Not you. You can still save yourself.”
As that didn’t deserve an answer, she didn’t give one. She needed something to lengthen the reach of her shirt. Looking around, she saw a long branch. That should do it.
A closer look showed that the wood was rotting. It would crumble to pieces before she could pull Liam from the quicksand. She poked beneath it and saw a thick vine. If she tied her shirt to one end, the length should do.
Rain and wind obscured much of her vision so that she could barely make out Liam. When she saw him, he was trying to push his way through the quicksand.
“Stop thrashing around,” she yelled. “You’ll only make it worse.”
Voices of the men chasing them reached her. She had to get Liam out now.
Hurry.
Fingers fumbling with cold and fear, she struggled to tie the shirt to the vine. At last she had what she hoped was a reasonably strong knot.
She whipped the vine into the air much as a fly fisherman would cast his rod. Her first try didn’t land anywhere near Liam, and she tried again.
There.
“Got it,” he shouted and grabbed hold of the shirtsleeve.
“Just hold on while I pull. Don’t try to help.”
For a man like Liam, accustomed to taking action, to saving others rather than the other way around, that would likely grate, but there was no choice.
Pulling Liam through the quicksand was like pulling a canoe through molasses. They weren’t moving fast enough, not with the voices of their pursuers growing closer with every minute.
She redoubled her efforts, calling on the Lord’s help. I know I can’t do this on my own, Lord. I also know that with Your help, we can save Liam. Please give me the strength I need.
“It’s no use,” Liam shouted, his words carried on the wind. “Get out of here.”
“Not going to happen.”
Her arms felt rubbery, her shoulders bunched into tight knots, but she didn’t let up. Couldn’t. Just when she was certain she couldn’t pull anymore, a fresh burst of strength surged through her and she tugged with all her might.
“We’re doing it,” she yelled over the wind. “We’re doing it. Don’t try to help, just hold on.”
Another foot gained. And another. She doubled down on her efforts and put her whole self into the task.
Just when she thought they were home free, a shot rang out, dangerously close to where she stood. Their pursuers had found them, but she couldn’t let up on her task. Not now.
A second shot quickly followed. Then a third. Or at least she thought it was a shot. With the wind whipping the air with all its might and the rain pelting, it was hard to tell. How many shots had she heard? Three? Four? Five?
And how many men were there? The men who had run them off the road could have called for backup.
Don’t think about that. Liam needed her focus. She kept pulling.
The Lord was in charge, she reminded herself. He would protect her and Liam if her faith didn’t waver. She recalled one of her favorite scriptures from 2 Kings. Fear not: for they that be with us are more than they that be with them.
“Get out of here, Paige.”
She ignored the order just as she had the others. Her hands were raw from the scrape of the vine against her palms. Even through the rain, she could see the blood running down her wrist and arm, but she refused to let go. The blood turned her hands slippery, but she dared not take a second to wipe them on her pants.
Liam’s life depended upon her. She knew the Lord was doing His part, and she just needed to do hers. He didn’t ask that she do more than that of which she was capable, only that she do her best.
I’m trying, Lord. I’m trying.
Another shot. Ignore it. The shooter couldn’t see any more than she could. He was firing blindly. The thought brought little comfort, though.
Three more yards. That was all they needed. Only three more yards. You can do it. The words chanted in her mind, and she matched her rhythm to their beat. Hand over hand, she kept up the punishing pace.
“We’re almost there.” She panted out the words with each pull on the vine.
Liam was moving closer, so close she could almost touch him. She longed to do away with the vine-shirt contraption and pull him the rest of the way herself, but she dared not give way to the temptation. If his greater weight pulled her into the quicksand, they’d both be lost.
After another superhuman effort on her part, he stumbled to safety. When another bullet whizzed heart-stoppingly close to them, he pushed her down and covered her with his own body. Mud filled her nostrils and mouth, and she did her best to spit it out.
The rain and wind that she’d decried only moments ago now served to shield them from their enemies. So did the quicksand. Without knowing how far the pool of deadly mud reached, the men couldn’t risk coming any closer.
A blessing in disguise. Grateful as she was for it, she’d been hoping for a blessing that wasn’t covered in mud and muck.
* * *
Liam held Paige to the ground. The shots continued to go wild. That told him the shooters weren’t first-tier operators. Even poor shots, though, could find their target occasionally, if
only by accident.
“We can’t see them in this stuff,” one of the men said, voice carrying on the wind. “Let’s get out of here. Maybe the swamp will do our work for us. There are wild boar out here, not to mention bears.”
“I’m with you.”
The men retreated.
Still, Paige and Liam didn’t move. It could be a trick. Terrorists in Afghanistan had been fond of pretending to leave an area, only to rise up from the sand and pick off unwary soldiers who’d believed the enemy had departed.
When long moments had elapsed, Liam got to his feet and offered Paige his hand.
Cautiously, she stood. “That was close.”
“Too close.” He heaved out a breath. Another. “Thanks. You saved my life.”
“All in a day’s work. Besides, I owed you.” Her words were strained, as though she had trouble squeezing them out. At the same time, an unmistakable electric current crackled in the air.
He dipped his head and came within an inch of touching his lips to hers. He didn’t want to dwell on the warmth of her voice or the lips that were but a scant inch from his own.
The moment passed. His hoarse laugh relieved the rest of the tension. “I’m covered with mud and stink of the swamp.”
“And I’m not much better.”
He focused on picking his way through the slippery floor of the swamp, careful not to trip on the vines that stretched across the ground.
They made their way out of the swamp, all the while listening for any sounds that hinted they weren’t alone, that the men who had attacked them were lying in wait. The last thing they needed was to let down their guard and invite another attack. Though the men weren’t professionals, they could still be deadly.
The sounds of animals rustling in the underbrush gave credence to the men’s comments about wild boar and bear. Pumas also prowled the swamp, along with snakes of all kinds. Any could easily kill a person.
At last, they made it to the car.
“It’s not going anywhere,” Liam announced unnecessarily.
“Then we’re in for a hike.”