Crash Into You (32 page)

“Yes, please,” Larissa chirped.   

She led the small group to a booth near the windows and handed out the large white menus.    Aimee ordered hot tea and then set eyes on the menu.   Wow.   The list of specials sounded wonderful and creative.   Sashimi tuna tacos, lobster strudel, duck quesadilla.

It was exactly the rustic-yet-elegant kind of food she’d envisioned for the lodge.   She couldn’t wait to tell Mark about this – it was so inspiring to see these kinds of places sprouting up in Spanner.  Just like she’d said – it would be a cross between Aspen and Austin.  A surge of excitement bloomed through her.

              “What looks good to you?”  Sarah asked.

             
“I have to try the sashimi tacos,” Larissa declared and set down her menu.

             
“Lobster strudel for me,” Aimee said.  

             
“Those oysters look amazing but I think I’m in the mood for a rich soup and maybe… will you guys think I’m a pig if I order a steak?”  Sarah asked.

             
“Of course not, hon,” Larissa said, a little offended.  

             
Sarah looked a little sheepish.  “I have to tell you something.”

             
Aimee and Larissa both leaned in.

             
“I’m having a baby.”

             
Aimee gasped and hugged her friend.  “Oh my gosh.   That’s wonderful!”   

             
To her horror, she felt tears sting her eyes.  Crazy.   It just struck her that she and Mark hadn’t used protection and she wasn’t pregnant.  She didn’t want to be pregnant, she reminded herself.  She wanted a huge life, full of family and friends and happy times.  But most of all, she wanted freedom.

             
She was just emotional today, just the weird juju out at the ranch, missing Mark, the FBI.   The stress was clobbering her.  She quickly wiped them away and smiled for her friend.

             
Aimee and Larissa toasted her with white wine; she toasted herself with 7-Up.

Aimee and Larissa walked back to the shop, pausing to see Sarah off at her Jeep.   Aimee looked appreciatively at the people shopping and browsing, checking out the newest skis and mountaineering gear.

             
“You okay?” Larissa asked.

             
“Sure.   Hey, I have a great idea.  Would you like to come over to the ranch tonight?  Maybe we can pick up one of Carrie’s killer carrot cakes and watch some movies?”

             
“I can’t hon, it’s my date night with John.”  She winked luridly, making Aimee chuckle at the passion Larissa still shared with her husband.   “But by all means, bring me back a piece of that carrot cake before tomorrow’s yoga class.”

             
“I will,” Aimee smiled.

             
Aimee climbed into the Bronco and noticed two men on the sidewalk outside of Carried Away Deserts in dark suits.   One wore dark glasses.    FBI?    They had that polished look from back east.  They certainly weren’t from around here.

             
She put the car in drive.  Checking the rearview, she was encouraged that nobody was behind her, even as she turned onto the narrow road that led to the ranch.

             
Aimee played with May outside, while keeping an eye on the road, her ears alert for any sound of a car engine.  She fed the horses and let them into the paddocks.  While feeding them some treats of carrots and apples, she noticed May was staying very close to her.   “Are you missing Mark?” she asked.

             
May wagged her tail slowly as if joyful just to be talked to like a human.   Aimee pet her head.  She was missing Mark too.   She wanted to tell him about the weird noise last night that had so frightened May, and the men outside Carrie’s that frightened her.   If Mark were there, she’d be tempted to give up Portland, give up the money, just for the security of seeing him.

Back inside, Aimee fed May, then went upstairs to shower.   After that, she became listless.   Her curiosity was in overdrive.   She’d mentioned Carrie’s carrot cakes to Larissa just a few hours before; maybe it was a good excuse to swing by the shop, ask a few subtle questions.   She had to know what was going on, what the FBI knew. 

A glance at the time read-out on the microwave, however, told her it was too late.  Carrie’s was closed.   She would just have to relax until tomorrow.   Mark would be home tomorrow and   then, maybe, she could relax.

Aimee settled into the sofa to watch television, but May kept lifting her head and sniffing the air like she sensed some unwelcome presence.   Aimee told herself she was being a baby.  Nobody was out there.    Despite her paranoia, there really was no way for Seth to know where she was.    Aimee pet May, keeping her calm, and tried to concentrate on the tv show that she had no interest in.

              It was awful bright in here, she thought.   In her nervousness, she’d left on a many lights but that was probably not the right thing to do; she would be more visible to anyone outside.  With May following, she dimmed the lights in the living room and turned them off in the kitchen. 

             
As they entered the living room, May let out a howl that shook Aimee to the core.  Outside the big windows, Seth was smiling at her.

Amy froze.   Fear choked her, rooted her to the spot.   With disbelieving eyes, she took in the grotesque fact of Seth standing right outside the windows, with a strange lurid smirk on his face.

             
As he took a step toward the house, Amy stepped backward, and then ran for the phone in the kitchen.  To her horror, there was no dial tone.   She grabbed a steakknife from the block on the counter to give herself a fighting chance, and then opened the door to the garage, where she put May.

             
It was the only thing she could think to do to keep the puppy safe. 

             
Seth was saying something – she could hear him yelling outside the door.   The gun upstairs!  As soon as she remembered it, the front of the house seemed to cave in, and window glass rained down on her.   It took a moment to realize Seth had shot out the windows.    Seconds later, loud alarms began to ring through the night.

             
Within seconds, he was inside and the gun was pressed against her temple.   Almost gently he lifted her fingers from the knife she held and tossed it aside.   “Hello, darlin’,” he said softly.   “Did you miss me?”

             
“The police are coming,” she stuttered, her whole body trembling.  “They’ll be here any minute.  Leave.”

             
“Oh I’m leaving.   And you’re coming with me.”

             
She whimpered as he grabbed her elbow and yanked her toward the front door.    In the driveway was an unfamiliar sedan.  Beyond Spanner Ranch, all was quiet and dark, and that instinct to run was still pushing, pushing inside her.   But she was tired of running.

             
“Get in,” he said.

             
Resigned, she got in.

             
She looked at the house, praying that May would be okay.  Praying Mark would know that she was so very sorry.             

“I can’t get the money for you until morning,” Aimee said as soon as they were on the road.

             
“Why the fuck not?”

             
Because I want to buy some time, you idiot. 
“Because the place where it is stashed doesn’t even open until morning.”

             
Seth seemed weirdly calm.   The calmness was terrifying.  She’d never seen him like this.  

Up ahead, a police cruiser was coming toward them.  Plain as day, Aimee could see the light-reflecting paintjob: Spanner County Sherriff’s Department.

“Don’t even think of trying anything,” Seth warned her.

She wouldn’t.  Not really, because he was a police officer and he could convince anyone of anything.   So she watched it pass, wondering if it was the same cop who pulled over Mark on the night they had dinner with Larissa and John.

“They’re going to be looking for you, you know,” Aimee said.  “They’re going to the house, see that the windows have been shot out and remember that a Toyota Camry was driving away from the ranch just after it happened.”

He seemed to consider that for a moment.    He hadn’t thought this through very well, she thought.  That was an opening.  

“There’s a resort up in the mountains,” Aimee said.  “It’s remote.   You can hide out there for the night until I can get the money for you.”

He glanced at her with a weird smile.  “Well darlin’, if I didn’t know better I’d say this is the old Aimee I love so much.”

She didn’t answer.

Eighteen

Mark awoke with a gasp. His heart thudded against sore ribs, and his
throat was raw from silent gasping screams.  He looked around the room, not recognizing anything about it.  The tap of rain on the window grounded him to reality.   It was raining?   Stumbling out of the bed, he walked across a room not his own to the windows and peered out.  The White House glowed in the gloom.   Mark watched the snipers on the roof for a moment.  Always on defense.

Letting the curtain fall across the panes, Mark flung himself back in the wide, unfamiliar bed and shut his eyes, realizing a headache was beginning to thud in his temples.   He had a meeting in three hours. Dread settled in his stomach.   The possibility of simply heading to the airport shimmered like a dare.   He could be home by noon.   He’d surprise Aimee, hold her tight, and take her straight to bed to make up for the weirdness of their last night together.

He wasn’t sure it was smart to tell her he loved her, especially knowing she was determined to head to Portland, but it was the God’s honest truth.   He’d never told any other woman he loved her.  He was saving it for the real thing. 

It was actually painful being away from her and their home even for two days; when she left for Portland, it was going to be cataclysmic.

He suddenly sat up again.  This whole situation was ridiculous.   He didn’t want to be here.  He had come to be polite, to kiss the ring of the men in high positions of government who had once thought they owned his soul.   But they didn’t then and they sure as hell didn’t now.

Turning on the light, he quickly packed and dressed, then left the hotel.

“I’m sorry, sir, the flight is delayed.”

              Mark grit his teeth, but tried not to show his displeasure to the faceless, featureless clerk behind the counter.    It wasn’t her fault the Nation’s Capital was swathed in a thick gauze of dangerous rains and hail.

             
“In fact, all the flights are delayed, sir.”

             
“What about other airlines?”
              “Everyone is delayed, sir. We are surrounded by storms.”

             
“What about Dulles airport?”

             
She clicked on her computer, frowning at the information display.   “It looks like there is a flight leaving in an hour that can get you to Denver.  From there, you’ll be on your own.  If you want to make it, it’s going to be very tight.”

             
“Can you make a reservation for me?”

             
“Call the airline from the taxi, sir.  You’re not going to make it if you’re still in this airport in the next five minutes.”

             
Mark bolted for the exit.  It was so early and the weather so dismal that for once there were taxis to be had.  He dived into the backseat of one.  “Dulles.  Hurry please.”

             
Mark dialed the airline, made a reservation for the flight to Denver, and hung up. 

He wanted to call Aimee; he ached to hear her voice.  But it was three o’clock in the morning in Spanner.  Aimee was probably asleep with May snoozing beside her in his big iron bed.   It was a vision of such simple peace that for a split second, he felt a sliver of happiness shivering through the muck.

She will forgive me, he thought, as he dialed the main number at the ranch. 

It rang.   With every subsequent ring, his concern grew deeper.   Five rings, twelve, fifteen.

He hung up and dialed again.   Again, there was no answer.   He looked out the window to the Beltway, the bleak weather obscuring everything beyond the road, but he could clearly see that something was very wrong.   Aimee was a light sleeper; the moos of the Darmstadt’s cows had woken her one night, and that was from a mile away.  

He dialed Fraller’s number.  

The spook sounded very sleepy when he answered.  “Yes?”

“It’s Mark.  I have an emergency.  If you can cowboy up a private plane, gassed up and ready at Dulles in the next fifteen minutes, I’ll commit to one year of anything you have in mind.”