Identity Withheld Page 4

  “Yeah.” The waitress pulled her fingers away from her mouth, curled her hands into her apron. “She was the only customer I had all night.”

  “Besides your boyfriend?” Jake clarified.

  “Well, yeah.”

  “Did she talk to him?”

  “No. She sat at the counter.”

  Jake’s gaze tracked to the unfinished mug of black coffee, the muddy puddle beneath the stool.

  “I got the sense she was waiting for someone.”

  The sheriff cocked his head toward Jake, lifting a brow.

  No, she did not flee a fire to wait for a gunman in a coffee shop. That made no sense at all. Jake maneuvered around the sheriff to talk to the victim on the ground. “Did you know the female customer who came in?”

  The guy’s eyes fluttered open then closed like leaden curtains.

  “Afraid it’ll be a few hours before you get any answers out of him,” the paramedic said. “We’re ready to transport,” he added, directing that to the sheriff.

  “Go ahead. The scene is secure.”

  The waitress started for the door, then flailed her arms helplessly. “I need to go with him, but am I supposed to lock up?”

  “The owner is on his way,” the sheriff reassured, “but I need you to answer a few more questions before you go. I’ll have one of my deputies drive you to the hospital. Okay?”

  She gazed forlornly after the disappearing gurney and sank onto a stool. “I already told you everything.”

  “You’d be surprised what you might’ve picked up without realizing it.” The sheriff clapped Jake on the shoulder. “Thanks for the tip on the woman. I’ll be in touch about the fire investigation.” And just like that Jake was dismissed.

  Outside the shop, Jake scanned the dark streets, beyond the swirl of emergency lights. Lord, please let them find Kara safe.

  He zipped his jacket against the fine rain that had started up again, like the niggling feeling he’d let another woman down this Thanksgiving. Five years ago, his gut had told him to take his wife to the E.R. in case the bleeding wasn’t normal postbirth hemorrhaging. Instead he’d let her sway him into believing she’d be fine.

  As he’d done tonight.

  He climbed into his truck and slammed the door on the memory. Lord, what is wrong with me? She was obviously in trouble, no matter what she said. Why’d I walk away? Then. Now.

  At the sound of Beethoven’s Fifth—the ringtone reserved for his parents—chiming from his hip, he snatched up his phone. “Is Tommy okay?”

  “Yes, but we’ll soon be heading to bed ourselves. Wanted to say if you were going to be much later, you might as well just leave him here for the night.”

  And face an empty house alone? Not tonight. “I’m on my way now.” There was nothing more he could do here.

  With one last glance toward the suspect warming a seat in the back of a cruiser, Jake hiked back to his truck. If his guess was right, and this was the guy Kara had been afraid of, at least she’d be safe now.

  The thought didn’t ease the hundred-pound weight parked on his chest. He pulled a U-turn onto the empty street and headed home. He was a firefighter. His job was to put out fires, rescue victims. Chasing after Kara at the scene had been above and beyond. So why did he feel as if he hadn’t done nearly enough?

  Glancing at the snapshot pinned to his dashboard, of April cuddling their newborn son, Jake tamped down the urge to go out looking for Kara and leaned on the gas.

  A thump sounded in the bed of the pickup. Must’ve missed a firewood log when he’d emptied the couple of cords he’d picked up yesterday. Seemed as if he was missing things left, right and center these days.

  If not for wanting to try to catch Kara at the hospital, and hopefully a lead on their arsonist, he never would’ve let the chief of Hadyn’s volunteer crew convince him to leave the rest of the cleanup to them. What if they destroyed key evidence?

  The cops didn’t call firefighters evidence destroyers for no reason.

  Ten minutes later, he stopped at the intersection leading to his street and clicked on his turn signal. As he touched the gas, a shadowy movement in the rearview mirror caught his attention. He punched the brakes and more than just a thump sounded from the back of his truck bed. That had sounded like a yelp.

  He rammed his stick shift into Park, grabbed a crowbar from under the seat and jumped from his truck. He clanked down the tailgate and yanked on the tarp bunched over a hump in the far corner. “Kara?”

  She shrank into the corner of the rain-slicked truck bed, drenched and sickly white under the glare of the streetlight.

  “What are you doing back here? Get into the cab before you catch your death!” His throat closed on that last order.

  Instead of scrambling to obey, she shrank deeper into the corner, tugging what little she could of the tarp back over her body.

  Jake’s fury and confusion, and emotions he didn’t have time to identify, seeped out in a frustrated sigh. “Kara, I won’t hurt you.” Her gaze darted to the crowbar poised over his head, and he dropped it onto the truck bed. “Please, come out of the rain. They caught the gunman. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

  She edged toward the tailgate, ignoring the hand he offered. Well, not exactly ignoring. Her gaze was fixed on it as if she feared he might grab her.

  Biting back the questions and assurances pressing at his throat, he pulled his hand to his side.

  The tightness around her mouth eased as she quickly slid off the tailgate and headed toward the passenger door.

  Giving her the space she seemed to need, he took a moment to latch the tailgate. “There’s a blanket in the cab. Wrap it around yourself. I’ll call the sheriff. Let him know you’re safe.”

  Silence.

  “Kara?” He came around the truck to give her a hand, but she was gone. “Kara!”

  Hedges on the other side of the ditch rustled.

  He grabbed a flashlight and took off after her. She’d been okay until he mentioned the sheriff. And he’d told her they’d caught the gunman. Cop or no cop, he’d be warming a jail cell. So why run now?

  Unless she wasn’t innocent.

  * * *

  If she’d been smart, she’d have kept on running the instant she jumped out of that washroom window and not stopped until she reached Seattle, someplace where she could blend in with thousands of other faceless people and no one would ever find her. Only...

  Her handler wouldn’t have been able to find her either.

  Jake’s flashlight beam arced over the yard to her left.

  She ducked behind a wrecked car at the back of the neighboring yard. Her hand squished something on the ground that she didn’t want to contemplate. Mud seeped over the tops of her shoes, soaked through her already sopping jeans. A brisk wind teased up the back of her shirt, sending more chills through her shivering limbs. What was she going to do? She couldn’t exactly call the marshal’s office to find out if the bad guys had gotten to Ray. Witness security files were top secret. How many times had he drilled that into her?

  “Kara,” Jake called. “C’mon, I want to help you.”

  His pleading tone tugged at a cold, lonely place in her heart desperate to believe him. Never mind how he always seemed to show up when the trouble started. If he’d wanted to hurt her, he never would’ve let her walk away from the hospital. Right?

  She swallowed the bile rising to her throat. Unless he was the one she’d sensed following her to the coffee shop, the one who’d sent in the gunman.

  Jake’s voice drifted farther away, and she peeked over the back of the rusted jalopy. Please, Lord, let him give up looking. No matter how concerned Jake sounded, she couldn’t trust him.

  If things fall apart, don’t trust anyone. They’ll pretend to be on your side, pretend to want to
help you, pretend to be taking you to safety just long enough to get you somewhere secluded.

  Her stomach pitched at the memory of the marshal’s warning. Not that this place was secluded. Or that Jake had known she was in the truck when he’d driven here for that matter. If she’d known it was his truck, she never would’ve jumped in it.

  She couldn’t afford to take any chances. She tugged her sleeves down over her icy hands and pushed to her feet. A few more hours. That was all she needed. Tomorrow she’d go to the fail-safe meet site. That was where Ray would look for her next, and if something had happened to him, that was where his office would send another marshal to take care of her—someone who’d know the code phrase they’d agreed on.

  Behind her a yard light blinked on. The back door creaked open.

  Holding her breath, she edged toward the next yard. If the owner had let out a dog, she was—

  “Kara!” Jake’s voice came louder again.

  He was coming back! She darted in the opposite direction.

  A barking dog raced toward her, yelped when he hit the end of his chain and got jerked off his feet. An instant later, his barking veered to the other end of the yard. Jake.

  She tightened her fists and pumped her arms to drive herself faster. The dearth of streetlights hid her from view, but made running treacherous. She jumped over toys and tree limbs and— “Ah!” Her foot pinged a large can, sent it clattering over the rough ground. She stumbled, her ankle twisting.

  “Kara, wait.” Jake’s flashlight speared her back.

  Ignoring the pain screaming through her ankle, she took off again at a sprint. She veered between two houses, praying she didn’t run into anything else. Oh, why did it have to be Jake’s truck she’d jumped into?

  The dog she’d heard barking outside the coffee shop after the police showed up probably hadn’t even been a police dog, but all she’d been able to think to do was run through the puddles to mask her scent and get away. His truck’s sudden appearance had seemed like a godsend. Why couldn’t Jake have just been some rubbernecker who’d move on after a few minutes of gawking?

  “Kara, listen to me.” Jake’s footfalls pounded behind her, but the stamina she’d gained from her daily five-mile runs kept her ahead of him. “Kara,” he huffed, clearly tiring.

  Wet and cold and hungry, she forced her mind off the fatigue tugging at her own limbs. Lord, please let him run out of steam before I do.

  “If you didn’t set the fire, you have no reason to run,” Jake called between heavy breaths. “The police will protect you from whoever you’re afraid of. Was that guy an ex-boyfriend? Your husband?”

  Husband? Was that what he thought? She tripped over the curb as she chanced a glance over her shoulder.

  Jake burst from between the houses just as she recovered her balance. His gaze slammed into hers. The dim light couldn’t mask the concern she saw flickering in his eyes. He slowed to a sedate approach, patted the air with the hand not holding a flashlight as if she were a skittish colt. “I can help you, Kara. My wife’s dad was an abuser, I—”

  The sound of a siren broke his spell. He’d called the police. She gulped in a lungful of air. “If you really want to help me, Jake, forget you ever saw me.” She turned on her heel and ran.

  “Kara!”

  Blinding headlights blipped on and she froze. Her heart jammed in her throat as the lights sped toward her. Oh, God, I’m going to die.

  Hurled into the hedges on the other side of the road, her body exploded in agony. Then everything went black.

  FOUR

  Headlights swerved over them. Brakes screeched. Jake shielded Kara’s head with his arms, his body pinning her to the muddy ground. He prayed the out-of-control car didn’t barrel into the ditch and onto them.

  Suddenly, everything stilled, headlights shrouding the ground in an unearthly glow. Jake tensed at the click of a car door opening. Was the driver coming to make sure they were okay? Or to finish them off?

  He eased off Kara, gently swept her rain-drenched hair from her face. “Hey, you with me?” he whispered.

  Her eyes blinked open. “I’m not dead?”

  Not yet. He shot a glance over his shoulder at the flashlight bobbing toward them. “Can you get up? Did I hurt you?” He’d rammed her hard enough to break a few bones if she’d landed the wrong way, but better that than being crushed by a car.

  She wiggled her arms, then her legs. “Just bruised, I think.”

  “Hey, Jake, is that you? Are you okay?” The flashlight beamed his face.

  He shielded his eyes against the blinding glare. “Sherri? What are you doing here?”

  “What am I doing here? What are you doing here? I was on my way home when I saw your truck abandoned on the end of your street the headlights still on and the door half-opened. Who—?” She swerved the flashlight beam to Kara still lying on the ground. “Kara?” Sherri sprang into action, sliding to her knees at Kara’s side. “Are you okay? I didn’t hit you did I?” She palpated Kara’s arms. “You came out of nowhere. I—”

  “What were you doing driving down the road without your headlights on?” Jake growled, taking over her flashlight so she could see Kara better.

  “I heard you yelling. I thought you needed help. What were you doing running after her anyway?”

  “Never mind that for now!”

  Sherri lifted an eyebrow at his sharp tone, but thankfully let it go. “Like I was saying,” she continued, moving on to Kara’s legs. “When I saw a flashlight beam bounce off the trees, I turned off my headlights to pinpoint where it was coming from. Then you guys ran right out in front of me!”

  “I’m fine.” Kara pushed to her elbows and edged warily away from Sherri’s touch, looking anything but fine. Her clothes were soaked and every inch of her was covered in mud.

  “We should get her to the hospital,” Jake said to Sherri.

  Kara scrambled to her feet. “I don’t need to go to the hospital. I’m fine.”

  “Okay.” Jake patted the air, urging her to calm down. The last thing he wanted to do was make her run again. “My parents’ house is around the corner. Let’s at least get you out of this rain and into some dry clothes.” He nodded his chin toward her muddy bandage. “That bandage will need changing, too, if you don’t want to risk infection.”

  “Good idea,” Sherri said. “The hospital is a zoo tonight anyway what with that guy at the coffee shop shanking two deputies.”

  “What?” Jake and Kara shrieked at the same time.

  “I guess you haven’t heard. This gunman tried to rob the coffee shop. The police arrested him, but then he pulled some kind of blade on them and got away.”

  Kara’s terrified gaze slammed into Jake’s.

  “It’s going to be okay,” he murmured, pulling her into his arms. To his relief, she accepted their protective shelter. “He’s not going to find you. Okay?” Jake whispered close to her ear. He could feel her heart hammering against his chest. Tucking her close to his side, he turned to Sherri. “Drive us to my folks. Then you can bring my dad back to pick up my truck. Okay?”

  “Yeah, sure.” Her curious look said she was waiting for an explanation.

  He ignored it and guided Kara to the backseat of Sherri’s Ford Escort. “My mom’s a retired nurse,” he babbled to Kara, sliding in beside her and tucking the blanket he found on the seat around her. “She can take care of that bandage and give you some dry clothes.”

  Kara nodded mutely, and he worried that she was going into shock again. She was so cold, so wet. Questions torpedoed his mind, demanding answers. Answers that might help the sheriff track the gunman down. But a quiet voice inside his head told him not to push. Not yet. Or she’d run again, before he could help her.

  Thankfully, Sherri seemed to sense that now was not the time to get her quest
ions answered either, because for once, she stopped grilling him. She turned the heater on full blast, even though they’d be in his folks’ driveway before it blew anything warmer than tepid air.

  Kara must’ve felt she owed him an explanation, because as Sherri turned onto his street, she said, “My friend wasn’t at the coffee shop like he was supposed to be.”

  “No?”

  She swallowed. “I was waiting for him, had just gone to the washroom, when that robber came in. But I don’t know him. It’s not like you think.”

  “It’s not?”

  She shook her head, sneaked a glance at the rearview mirror, where Sherri’s eyes were fixed on them. Jake hadn’t noticed that his cousin had already parked and turned off the engine. Part of him wished the house was a little farther away so Kara might not have clammed up, but he hazarded a question anyway. “Then why’d you hide in my truck? Why didn’t you talk to the police?”

  “I was scared. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have involved you.” She pushed off the blanket. “I’ll go.”

  He caught the edge of the blanket and wrapped it back around her. “Not a chance. I’ve worried about you enough for one night.”

  Her unusual brown eyes momentarily widened, and then slipped shut, her impossibly long lashes sweeping her cheeks. “I’ve caused you a lot of trouble.” She lifted her gaze, but it didn’t make it to his. She stared at Tommy’s face pressed to the kitchen window. “You should be home with your family.” Her voice broke on the word family, sounding hollow and empty and utterly alone.

  “Do you have family nearby where you could stay?” he ventured.

  She shook her head.

  “Then it’s settled. Sherri, wait here. I’ll send Dad out to go with you for my truck.” Jake opened the car door and hurried around to Kara’s side. By the time his mom helped her get cleaned up, Dad would be back, and maybe together they could get some answers. With forty-three years in the sheriff’s department, ten of those as sheriff, who better than his dad to coax her to let them in on what was really going on?