Nowhere to Run (4 page)

“I hardly think it's
that
funny,” Marie insisted, scowling across the table at him.

He managed to get control of his high humor and reduce his laughter to a wide grin before he said, “Forgive me. If you knew what I've been thinking you'd probably be laughing, too.”

“Are you going to tell me?”

“Nope,” Seth said, still smiling. “You'll just have to trust me the way you want me to trust you. I have no amorous intentions. I promise.”

She wasn't sure whether to be relieved or not, considering the fact that he was practically insisting he didn't find her attractive.

Well, that was what she had wanted, wasn't it? And since she'd had the opportunity to state her views implicitly, there was no way he could misconstrue her reasons for agreeing to let him treat her to supper.

Still, there was something odd about the man, a hidden part of his psyche she'd only glimpsed in an occasional unguarded instant that came and went in a flash. Whatever that ominous-feeling insight was, it was too brief for her to interpret.

Seth's constant probing of her background was nevertheless unsettling. Granted, he might be no more than an interested bystander, yet he asked questions like a professional inquisitor, never missing the opportunity to slip in another query and never taking his eyes off her face when she answered. It was almost as if he knew more than he was letting on.

Her breath caught. There was no way this man could be in cahoots with the people who were pursuing her, was there? Of course not. He might be nosey, but he wasn't a dangerous criminal the way those other men were. No one could possibly have known she'd break down in Serenity and end up stopping at that very garage for assistance.

She shivered as more of the truth settled in her befuddled brain. If someone had sabotaged her car, as Seth surmised, they had known she would have car trouble. It was only by the grace of God, literally, that she had made it as far as Serenity and had managed to find temporary sanctuary.

Peering at Seth from beneath the brim of her cap, she studied him carefully. There was a hard edge to his personality, an undefined cautiousness, a strength that lay behind those smoky blue eyes no matter how wide his smile was or how casual his conversation might be.

Was she imagining things because she was so tense? she wondered. Or was the good Lord enabling her to glimpse reality in order to know how best to proceed?

She had trusted Roy once, and look where that had gotten her. She'd be twice the fool if she placed her future in the hands of a stranger like Seth. Then again, he did seem to care what happened to her, or he wouldn't have taken it upon himself to keep her car where it couldn't be seen in passing.

The fact that he had done that, before she had asked, was the biggest puzzle of all. It was as if he had been on his guard all along.

That
was why she had felt such an immediate affinity for him, she concluded, shocked by the turn her thoughts had taken.

Her eyes widened and she stared across the table.
Of course.
It was suddenly all too clear. Seth had empathized with her plight because he, too, was deathly afraid of someone or something.

R
oy's head was spinning and his whole body throbbed from the beating he'd received. Drifting in and out of consciousness, he thought of Marie and his darling daughter. He must hold out long enough to allow them sufficient time to get away. If he was going to die—and he was pretty sure that he was—he wanted his death to be for a good cause.

He wished he'd given Marie some of the stolen ransom so she'd have had traveling money. But it was too late now. He would probably never see Patty again. That was his punishment for trying to double-cross his three partners in crime, for hiding the whole ransom and trying to make them believe he'd never collected it. How was he to know they'd had a cohort on the inside who knew the truth? If he had it to do over again…

Someone yanked his hair to raise his head. Through swollen eyes, Roy peered at Frank, the largest of his captors, while Earl stood back out of the fray, nervously cleaning his thick eyeglasses.

“You might as well spill it,” Frank said. “Al's already closing in on your girlfriend and her brat. If you don't want this same thing to happen to them, you'd better tell us what you and she did with our money.”

The portent of the beefy man's words hit Roy in the gut like a sucker punch. It had never occurred to him that his former partners would think he actually had passed the ransom to Marie. His silence had not protected her, as he'd hoped; it had made her a target!

The only thing to do was confess, he reasoned. Even if they killed him as a result, at least it would call the wolves off his little girl and Marie.

Through split, bleeding lips he managed to croak, “I—I…”

His response apparently wasn't fast or lucid enough to suit his abuser. Frank's meaty hand smacked him on the temple. His head snapped back and he doubled over. Blackness encroached. Flashes of colored light obscured his already blurry vision.

Roy stayed conscious long enough to hear Frank begin to laugh while Earl's squealing voice berated him for being so rough.

Then, picturing his darling little girl, Roy smiled, let go and sank into the peace of oblivion.

 

Seth was disappointed that his questioning of Marie had been so unproductive. He'd thought about trying again as he drove her back to the motel but had decided to back off and let the woman relax in the hope that that tactic would loosen her tongue. He had plenty of time. As long as her car was broken down, she wasn't going to leave town before he was ready for her to go.

Marie entered her motel room, turned and blocked the door with her body, shielding her little girl and making it clear she did not intend to invite Seth in. “Thanks for the pizza,” she said flatly as she doubled the front sides of her lightweight, navy blue jacket across her body and held them in place like a shield.

“My pleasure.”

“About my car…”

“I told you I'd fix it and I will. Whoever dumped sawdust in your gas tank didn't intend for you to get very far, you know. You're lucky you made it to the station.”

He saw her shiver and grow pale. “I know. I'm so glad I didn't stall along the highway.”

Nodding, Seth agreed. “Exactly. There are some pretty isolated stretches between here and the major cities like Little Rock or Memphis. You'd have been much more vulnerable if you'd broken down way out there.”

He watched as his statement sank in. Clearly, she was afraid. And given the circumstances of sabotage to her vehicle, that reaction made sense. What remained a mystery was why she was so frightened and what had driven her from her home in the first place.

“Well, good night,” Seth said, politely touching the brim of his cap. “Stop by the garage tomorrow afternoon. I should be able to give you an idea of the time frame for repairs by then.”

The look on her face was unreadable as she shut the door. Seth knew she was desperate to be on her way, and he didn't intend to keep her in Serenity one minute more than necessary. But he wasn't going to let her leave until he made sure that she wasn't a plant sent there to unmask him.

Yes, his appearance had changed. And, yes, he had made a secure place for himself in the little town in the past three years. But that didn't mean that his enemies had given up searching for him. It only meant that they had not yet found his trail.

Leaving the motel, he drove straight to his farmstead. As he pulled into the darkened yard, he carefully scanned the shadows before getting out of the truck. While he'd been at supper with the woman and child, he'd left his short-barreled .38 locked in the glove compartment instead of carrying it, as was his usual practice. Now, he stuck it into his belt.

No matter how much time passed, Seth was never totally at ease. Hunted men who got careless were the ones who died. There had been some dark days in his past when he'd almost wished for the solace of death, but his Christian faith had kept him from giving up. Rather than alienating him from God, as was sometimes the case during difficult times, his trials had brought him closer to the Almighty than ever before, and for that he was thankful. The way Seth saw it, if the Lord wasn't ready to call him home, there must be a good reason.

He climbed out of the truck. Babe followed and ran her usual pattern of wide circles around the yard, sniffing and checking the territory. Seth had gotten her for a companion rather than a watchdog, but as it had turned out, she was both. If Babe indicated that the place was secure, that was good enough for him.

Slapping his leg and calling to her, he entered the house and flipped on the lights. It was late and he was tired, but he had some work to do on the computer before he'd be able to sleep.

It had been a long time since he'd checked in with his old acquaintances at Corp. Inc.—for very good reason. However, since he needed inside information on the woman calling herself Marie Smith and their database was the best place he knew of to get it, he'd make a one-time exception. As long as he routed his access through a couple of anonymizer sites and kept his query time short so no one had time to actively trace him, Seth didn't see much threat to himself—or to her.

He brewed a cup of coffee and carried it from the large farm kitchen to the computer desk in his bedroom. His fingers hovered over the keyboard. Contact with those involved in his former life, even via false identities, held a risk, yes, but if that was the only way to find out what Marie was hiding, he'd have to chance it.

First, though, he'd try a search of common, open databases and see what those turned up.
Smith
was too generic to be useful but
Parnell,
the name he'd found on the car's registration, might lead to some answers.

With Babe curled up at his feet, Seth checked the telephone listings for Louisiana and quickly located a Marie Parnell in Baton Rouge.

“Got her!” he said aloud, causing the dog to open one eye and blink up at him. Seth chuckled. “Sorry, girl. Didn't mean to disturb you. This is turning out to be a lot easier than I'd thought.”

From there he checked local Louisiana newspapers online and found nothing of note. He did, however, see that crime was at its usual level and that law enforcement seemed to be struggling. In other words, everything was normal and other men like him were probably working undercover to do what the regular officials could not openly condone.

That conclusion brought his thoughts back to his former colleagues at Corp. Inc. They had access to a covert information network second to none. If there was anything about Marie Parnell that he should know, it would be found on that well-guarded database.

Seth cracked his knuckles, took a deep breath and started hiding his tracks through one site after another, eventually coming to the point where he could enter Corp. Inc.'s system through a “backdoor” by using the access code he'd been given before he'd gone into hiding.

It still worked! He was in. Seth's eyes widened as the information about Marie appeared below her photograph. Not only was she tied to the disappearance of a known criminal named Roy Jenkins, but also she was suspected of having been involved in a kidnapping that had occurred several months before. The ransom had been paid and the victim released, but the perpetrators were still at large.

Seth sighed and sat back. “Well, well, Mrs. Smith,” he said softly. “What have you been up to?”

 

Marie hadn't expected to sleep well that night and her expectations unfortunately had been fulfilled. Patty, on the other hand, slept like the carefree child she was and awoke full of energy and enthusiasm.

Choosing the most nondescript outfits she could put together, Marie dressed herself and Patty, added their jackets against the morning chill and went to the motel office.

“Good morning,” she said with a smile. “You're Clarence, right?”

“Yes, ma'am.” His Adam's apple bobbed.

“Is there a nearby café where we can get breakfast?”

The desk clerk gestured with a thin arm and a wide grin. “No need, ma'am. We have free coffee and juice and donuts right in there. And you're in luck. I just bought a fresh box of 'em from down at Hickory Station.”

Marie stifled a giggle as her vivid imagination suggested a very long shelf life for the previous batch of donuts. She would have preferred something more nutritious for Patty, but under the circumstances she was willing to settle for just about anything she didn't have to venture out to fetch.

“Thank you,” she said, “and while I think of it, I need to pay you again. Mr. Whitfield says he won't be able to get the parts for my car for another day or so.”

“So he told me,” the clerk replied. “Don't you worry none. Seth vouches for you, that's good enough for me.”

“Thanks.” Marie led Patty into the anteroom where the coffee and juice bar were set up and got her settled with milk, juice and a donut before pouring herself a cup of coffee. Clarence was lounging in the doorway, so she took the opportunity to quiz him. “Have you lived here long?”

“All my life. I was born over in Camp, but my folks moved to Serenity when I was little. Dad worked at the feed mill and Ma sewed at the shirt factory till it shut down in the '90s.”

“I suppose Seth, Mr. Whitfield, has been here all his life, too.”

“Nope. He's a flatlander, I reckon. Leastwise that's what folks say. He's never talked much about where he came from.”

Marie raised an eyebrow. “Really? Why not?”

“Some folks don't, that's all. We just let 'em be.”

“So, you don't know anything about his past?”

Clarence chuckled and shook his head. “Around these parts, a man's past don't count near as much as how he behaves every day. Seth's a right regular fella. You can trust him not to cheat you when he fixes your car, if that's what you're worried about.”

Concentrating on her coffee cup instead of making eye contact with the amiable clerk, Marie chose to let Clarence assume that her concerns were financial. She did have some worries about the size of her repair bill, but money wasn't the most important thing. Safety was. And as long as she stayed in one place, the chances that her pursuer would locate her were probably greater than if she was once again on the road.

As she pondered the possibilities, she began to wonder if the Lord had not used her breakdown for something good. Yes, she was stuck in Serenity. But she was also in contact with a man who seemed almost as wary as she was. That could be to her advantage, especially since Seth had already taken it upon himself to try to protect her.

It was his hidden motives that were worrisome. He had not said or done one thing out of place, yet she could sense that he was hiding something. Her time with Roy had taught her to spot a practiced liar, and she was almost certain that Seth Whitfield was cut from the same cloth, no matter how popular he happened to be with the townspeople.

 

Al, the truck-driving criminal who had been trailing Marie, stopped in a little café on the square in Gumption. The place looked as if it had been caught in a time warp and had never left the 1950s.

He crossed the checkerboard floor, chose a stool at the counter and listened to the conversation going on around him as he wolfed down his breakfast and sipped strong coffee. These hayseeds were incredible. All they seemed to care about were crops and cows and hunting and fishing. Didn't they have
real
lives?

Taking advantage of a lull in the conversation, Al nodded toward an older man on his right. “Morning.”

The local eyed him warily from beneath the brim of his sweat-stained ball cap. “Morning. You're not from around here, are you?”

“Nope. Just passing through. Been having trouble with my truck, though. Can you recommend a good mechanic?”

He noted how the man was studying his crudely tattooed forearms, so he added, “I'd be obliged if you could help me out. I want to hit the road again as soon as I can.”

That seemed to satisfy the farmer because he loosened up. “Well, let's see. There's Butch's place. It's up the road toward Moko, on the way to West Plains. And if you're headed south, there's the Serenity Repair shop just off the highway.”