A Secret In Conard County. Rachel Lee

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СКАЧАТЬ Chapter 3

      “You can’t stay at the motel,” he told her as they walked back to his car.

      She had to agree with that. If she was at risk, then a lot of other people would be at risk. “Where, then?”

      “I was going to suggest you stay with my aunt Maria, but much as she’d love the company, no way am I exposing her to you.”

      She liked his honesty and answered with her own. “I seem to be deadly.”

      “Exactly. So... My place.”

      “Your place?”

      “I’ve got plenty of room, and it’s away from other houses, so if this guy gets a wild hair to bomb it, nobody else will get hurt. It’ll also give us some nice clear sight lines.”

      She could appreciate the sight lines but had other concerns. She kept them to herself until she had climbed slowly back into his vehicle.

      “Well?” he asked as he turned over the ignition.

      “Your house would be at risk.”

      “I know. It’s insured.”

      “Not against criminal acts, I bet. Most policies have an exception for that.”

      “Not mine. I’m a cop and I can read. Look, Erin, you can’t hit the road. Frankly, you’re in poor condition to protect yourself, and like the sheriff pointed out earlier, whichever way you go, it’d be easy to follow you. Not a whole lot else between here and there, is all. You don’t want to be crossing the mountains by yourself in your condition. Do I need to keep on?”

      She knew she was tired of running. She’d as much as said so in the sheriff’s office. Besides, she was beginning to wonder why she should have to be the one hiding or running. It made her blood boil just thinking about it. Trying to keep one step ahead of a criminal hardly suited her nature.

      But she didn’t want to cost Lance Conroe a whole lot. Like his house. Like his life. It seemed so wrong.

      “Can I get a flight out of here?”

      “Only two commercial flights a week—a puddle jumper in and out of Denver on Friday and Sunday night,” he answered. “There used to be a daily flight while they were building the resort, but that’s all on hold. We have some folks who own small light planes, and one guy runs an executive jet service out of here, which is usually more out of here than here, if you get me. I think he’s in Mexico right now. Anyway, none of those little twin-engine jobs could get you safely across the mountains and I’m not sure their owners would even want to try. They’re ranchers, Erin, not pilots, if you get my drift.”

      She got it. Definitely this was a kill box. She might persuade the Bureau to send a flight for her, if she begged hard enough, but she might as well put another neon sign on her back.

      “I’ve been stupid,” she said finally.

      “Why?”

      “I should have just elected the safe house or caught a plane to the coast, rather than thinking I could drive myself there. And I surely shouldn’t have told Fran exactly where I was. Of course she’d tell my boss.”

      “I kinda think that’s my fault. I must have lit up the boards when I checked your ID.”

      It was true. Apparently her field office knew her whereabouts and was concerned about how many might know. Maybe Fran hadn’t passed it along. If anyone understood Erin’s position it was Fran.

      “I don’t know,” she said slowly.

      “I do. If you’re not afraid of me, I’ve got enough room to tuck you into. Let’s go back to the motel and get your car and other things. If you decide you want to take off, I won’t stop you.”

      She gave in. What else could she do? Reviewing the decisions that had led her to this small town, she had an uneasy feeling that she wasn’t thinking with as clear a head as she might imagine, even without taking the pain meds. She was better than this.

      With that gloomy thought, she let Lance take over.

      * * *

      Lance made it easy for her, and she was past arguing. She put the remaining few items in her cases and didn’t object when he took them out to her vehicle. She walked slowly to the motel office, and paid the bill in cash, but by the time she was hobbling back to her car, she was limping noticeably.

      A burst of frustration and rage socked her. She was used to being able to do a lot more than walk, and now even walking could defeat her.

      But, she reminded herself, she was walking. She might be limping but she’d walked a goodly distance this morning, to and from the diner, and now the length of the motel and back. She was getting her strength back. A week ago she’d have been ready to collapse.

      Lifting her chin, she limped the rest of the way to her car. Lance was sitting in his vehicle nearby, engine thrumming, waiting patiently. She was so glad he hadn’t attempted to go pay the bill himself. Carrying her cases was one thing; pampering her to the extreme would be another.

      He smiled and touched a finger to the brim of his hat as she reached the vehicles. She hated to think what she must have looked like, attempting to bend herself into her vehicle so cautiously. But she did it, and felt pretty good when she leaned forward, stuck the key in the ignition and started it up. The tow truck had left her nose-out, which meant she didn’t have to twist a whole lot to back out.

      She pulled up beside Lance’s car. “Which way?”

      “Toward the mountains,” he said, pointing. “I got me a little piece of heaven just a few miles down the road.”

      A piece of heaven, and she might draw a bomber his way. Oh, great. For an instant she felt a wild urge to just leave town, but then reality slammed her hard. Her decision-making hadn’t been the best, obviously, nowhere near the top of her form. And the sheriff had been blunt about traveling through the mountains and about being followed. How could she trust her own thinking right now?

      They traveled west on the state highway for a little over a mile, then turned onto a county road that needed some fresh paving. It was crumbling around the edges, but at least dozens of potholes had been filled in. And the mountains seemed to loom larger in her windshield.

      She wished she had a map. It seemed this county was tucked into a wide mountain valley. Well, more than a valley. The eastern mountains were far enough away to make this feel like a plain. But the western ones loomed close, purple dashed with green in the midday light. Probably farther away than they looked, she decided. She had no perspective for judging that, but when she considered how long she’d driven while watching them slowly grow bigger in front of her, she imagined she was still far from reaching them.

      But she was in the foothills for sure. The land here rolled, the road snaked around some curves, an occasional narrow bridge crossed a tumbling stream.

      Another turn took them onto gravel and a small house appeared as if it had been dropped in the middle of nowhere. Some trees dotted the brushy, grassy landscape, and little else until woods appeared like a distant ring of tall sentinels.

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