Nancy Bush's Nowhere Bundle: Nowhere to Run, Nowhere to Hide & Nowhere Safe. Nancy Bush

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СКАЧАТЬ disbelief, Trask staggered sideways, staring down at himself. “You shot me. You fuckin’ shot me!”

      The GMC sped out of the lot with a roar, tires burping on pavement. Through a haze Trask tracked its progress. He lurched and fell to one knee, looked around wildly, then gazed across the parking lot to the line of doors and windows of the apartment building. Silence. No one around. No one busting out of a door to help him.

      “Hey . . .” he said feebly.

      Wrapping one arm around his chest, vaguely aware this was gonna hurt like a son-of-a-bitch later, completely in denial that this was anything serious, Trask staggered across the lot and reeled and stumbled his way up the apartment steps.

      He made it all the way to Liv’s apartment before he sank down in front of her door and died.

      Driving to Hague’s apartment, Liv kept her eye on the speedometer, careful not to drive too fast, careful not to drive too slow. She wasn’t used to Auggie’s Jeep, but she didn’t want to show it on the road. She didn’t want to give any quota-anxious cop a reason to stop her.

      She crossed the Willamette and wound down the narrow eastside streets to Hague’s apartment building, passing in front of it once to get the lay of the land, spying the green and yellow neon script of Rosa’s Cantina as she went by. She parked at the end of the block, left her backpack behind the front seat after a moment’s thought, removed the envelope to take with her, pulled down the brim of her baseball cap to hide her face, and headed toward the building’s entrance. She nearly ran into the same woman with the three children from the night before and turned away quickly so the woman wouldn’t be able to see her face.

      Up the elevator she went. She hurried to Hague’s door, rapping so hard against the panels she bruised her knuckles in the process.

      Come on, come on, come on. Time was running out. She’d left Auggie tied up and if anything should happen, like an unforeseen disaster, like a fire, or . . .

      She shook her head. No. She just had to make this quick and get back and—

      Della yanked open the door, a sour look on her face. “You.”

      “I need to talk to Hague,” Liv said, trying to step inside, but Della was planted firmly in the door.

      “He’s not here.”

      “What? He’s not?”

      “He’s at the cantina. Holding court. I’m about to go down and get him.”

      “No, let me. I’ll find him and send him up.”

      She laughed harshly. “Won’t do any good. He doesn’t listen to anyone when he’s in one of his moods. He’s talking. Ranting. Telling the whole world that it’s fucked up and he’s not gonna take it anymore. He just has to wear down.”

      Liv didn’t care. It was a chance to see Hague without Della. An opportunity. “I’ll do my best.”

      “It won’t be good enough,” she predicted, then closed the door with a firm thud in Liv’s face.

      She headed back down the elevator, out to the street and to Rosa’s front door, reflecting that Della hadn’t commented about the Zuma killings. She would have, if she’d known about them, because she knew it was where Liv worked. But Della, because of Hague and his fears, stayed away from the news; more government conspiracy, according to Hague. So, at least that was a good sign. Fairly soon, however, if Liv didn’t turn herself in, someone else would.

      She just needed a little more time.

      Pulling her hat down yet further, Liv entered the cantina and looked around. Jimmy and Rosa were behind the bar, busy on a Friday night, and didn’t notice her arrival.

      Hague was seated in his corner and practically bellowing at a small group of people who were sitting nearby, raptly listening. His rant was about government interference in everything, particularly, for some reason, how it was influencing the medical profession. By the sound of it, Liv half-expected him to launch into his theories about secret studies on humans without their knowledge or consent. Hague definitely believed he’d been subjected to tests and drugs at the hands of various mental health professionals over the years.

      Liv walked toward the gathering slowly.

      “The government plans these things,” one of the men in the group was agreeing with Hague. “They don’t see us as individuals. We’re like crash test dummies. No feelings! No thoughts! Available and expendable.”

      “The government keeps a lid on this stuff so we can go about our daily lives,” Hague stated. “But it’s the hospitals you have to worry about.” He wagged his finger at his listeners. “That’s where the mindbenders are. That’s where experimentation takes place. Hi, Livvie.”

      She hadn’t thought he’d even noticed her. “Hello, Hague.”

      “This is my sister,” Hague told his followers and all four of them gave her a hard once-over. She was glad for the baseball cap and the jacket. Did they watch the news? Maybe. Maybe not. This was dangerous territory, but she desperately needed to talk to her brother.

      “You’re the one who works for the government,” a woman with a long face and stringy gray hair said.

      “No,” Liv answered, surprised.

      “War games,” the man next to her said knowingly. He had eyes that didn’t quite focus properly.

      “It’s that company,” another man, younger and rail thin, said, clearly rolling the idea over in his mind.

      Liv’s anxiety level spiked. If they came up with Zuma Software . . . “Could I talk to you for a minute alone?” she asked Hague.

      He slid a darting, birdlike look at her. For a moment she thought he was going to refuse, then he gestured to a chair while his four listeners reluctantly scooted their own seats back and walked a few steps away. They perched just out of earshot, apparently waiting to return at the first indication that Hague and Liv were finished.

      “What?” he asked.

      “I’m in trouble. Someone could recognize me.”

      His gaze narrowed on her, cataloguing the way she was dressed. “What kind of trouble?”

      She leaned toward him. “There was a shooting earlier today . . . did you know about it?” Hague shook his head, so she quickly brought him up-to-date on what had taken place at Zuma, finishing with, “I know it sounds crazy, but I think they were after me.”

      “We’re both crazy, Livvie. Everybody says so.”

      “And as a result, I’ve done something—irresponsible.” She lightly tapped one fist against her teeth, seized with anxiety.

      “What?”

      “I’ve . . .” She couldn’t bring herself to tell him about Auggie. How she’d kidnapped him and tied him up. Every moment she spent away from him and out in public felt like an eternity.

      “Who did the shooting?” Hague asked in a low voice, matching her tone. His eyes darted around the room suspiciously.

      “I СКАЧАТЬ