Extreme Exposure (4 page)

Half an hour later, she was breathing hard and struggling to keep up. Still, the effort served to keep some of the terror gnawing at her stomach at bay. Each step brought them closer to safety.

Matt glanced back. He seemed to notice she was lagging because he waited for her to catch up, then slackened the pace. After a few minutes, he said, “Tell me what happened to you. If we want to get out of this, it would help if I knew what we’re up against.”

Emily forced a laugh. Really, was he trying to be annoying? “There is no ‘we’ in this,” she said between gasps for air. “I thought I made that clear.”

“There is until we get to Egerton. Anything could happen, so humor me.”

“I don’t know who they are. I already told you that.”

“You must have some idea. Just start at the beginning.”

She caught her breath. “A month ago, my cousin Amber died. Everybody thought it was a drug overdose, but I knew it wasn’t.” She was aware of a break in her voice. “She told me before she died that somebody was going to kill her.”

Running the conversation through her head again, tears pricked the corners of her eyes. It was the last time she’d seen Amber alive, two days before she had died. They had met for lunch at a busy café, but Amber hadn’t touched her food. Her hands had trembled as she lifted her coffee cup.

Emily would give anything to go back to that day, to realize the extent of the danger Amber had been in. To have done something. The only thing left now was to make sure her killer didn’t get away with it.

He said, “Where did this happen?”

“Riverton, it’s a town in upstate New York, not far from the Canadian border. It’s where we’re both from. She was killed in her house.”

“I know Riverton. Did your cousin say who or what she was scared of?”

“She wouldn’t tell me. She said it was for my own good. But something made me think the police were involved.”

He raised his eyebrows. “The police?”

“I was skeptical, too. But I should have listened to her, because somebody did murder her. I might’ve been able to help her. She had nobody to turn to.”

“She had no other family?”

“She didn’t get along with her mother or sister. She’d had a few problems in the last couple of years, and they fought.”

“What sort of problems?”

“Amber was in an accident about two years ago, a car accident. A woman in a car coming toward her crossed the center line and slammed right into her. The woman died. Amber survived, but she fractured her spine. She had to have surgery and, to make a long story short, she got addicted to painkillers. For a while, she was a wreck. But she managed to get off them. Things were turning around for her. She had a lot of help from my friend, Nicky, who works at a youth shelter and does a lot of addictions counseling.

“What did Amber overdose on?”

“Painkillers and alcohol. But that’s why I knew she didn’t kill herself.”

“What do you mean?”

“The woman who caused the accident was drunk. Amber swore off alcohol after that. Wouldn’t drink a drop. Maybe if she’d overdosed on pills alone, I could see it, but the alcohol didn’t make sense.”

He considered this for a moment. “Did you go to the police?”

“They were convinced it was an accident. They refused to reopen the investigation. My mother told me to leave it alone. She said I was just causing more pain for my aunt.”

She’d stopped by her mother’s house a couple of days before she fled to use her computer, since her own had crashed. Remembering her mother’s words, she felt like a hole had been pierced in her heart.

I think we all need a bit of a break from you, Emily. It will give you time to come to your senses and realize that Amber did this to herself. Instead of focusing on her, you should be focusing on us, on helping her mother get past this.

The rebuke had stung, but only a little more because her mother had chosen to deliver it in front of her mother’s boyfriend. He had seemed uncomfortable, and Emily hadn’t wanted to argue the point.

She said, “I tried to talk to Amber’s lawyer, but he refused to speak with me, even over the phone. I went to his office, but couldn’t get past his secretary.” A small animal, maybe a mouse, scurried for cover as she stepped over a deep crevice in the rocks. “Amber had a new boyfriend, a cop, and he seemed to think the investigation was pretty thorough.”

“Her boyfriend was a cop? You said something made you think the police were involved. Could it have been him?”

Stopping, Matt took a bottle of water out of his pack and passed it to her. Tipping the bottle back, she felt the cool liquid rinse her throat and had to stop herself from guzzling the whole bottle.

A large gull flew overhead, shrieked in anger, then swooped over the cliff and flew out toward the sea. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

She said, “I only met Jason two times, but he didn’t seem off to me. They’d been going out for only a couple of months. He told me he took a look at the police report and thought they’d covered all the bases.”

“And you still had doubts?”

She handed him the water bottle. “I knew she didn’t kill herself. The police seemed more interested in closing the case than anything.”

“Why do you say that?”

She shrugged. “It wasn’t something that was really obvious, more of a feeling. But until I know otherwise, I don’t trust them.”

He took a gulp of water, gave her a sharp look. “Something tells me it’s not easy to win your trust.”

She glared at him. “Forgive me if trusting people isn’t high on my priority list. My cousin was murdered and now people are trying to kill me.”

“Take it easy. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

Blowing out a noisy breath, she reached down to pick a few berries off a small shrub growing in a sheltered crevice. They were bitter and piney, almost inedible, but hunger gnawed at her stomach like some sort of animal was living in it so she swallowed them anyway. She motioned with a wide sweep with her hand that she was ready to start walking again.

It was true what he said, about her not trusting easily. But that was a good thing. Besides, it didn’t matter what he thought. By day’s end, she’d be rid of this rent-a-Rambo.

*  *  *

For the next two hours, Matt drove a steady pace as they scrambled over the barrens. Instinct told him their lives depended on reaching the shelter of the trees, where they would have less chance of being seen. But, aside from a few outcroppings of rocks and some thin pines, they had hours to go before the vast emptiness transitioned to light forest.

Hour by hour the sun climbed higher in the sky. Its harsh rays bled the colors out of the landscape so that everything looked bleached and brittle. Heat radiated from the rocky ground through the soles of his shoes.

Not hearing Emily behind him, he checked over his shoulder. She had stopped about thirty paces back and was bent over with her hands on her legs. Pinching his lips together, he walked back, took a water bottle from the pack, and handed it to her.

Straightening, she took a long chug, handed back the bottle. Her hair was damp and her face glowed with a thin sheen of sweat. “It’s so hot.”

“Unfortunately, it’s going to get worse.” They didn’t have a lot of water, so he put the bottle back without drinking any. “And there’s no wind.”

“I just need a minute.” Brow furrowed, she was the picture of determination, but she was breathing heavily and holding her stomach with her hand.

He wanted to reach out to her, but knew better than to try. Inhaling deeply, he pointed to a group of stubby pine trees about a quarter of a mile away. “Can you make it to the trees? We can stop there, have some more water. It’s too open here.”

In full daylight, her dark hair contrasted even more against her pale skin. It was almost as if she had tried for a goth look, but had forgotten the piercings and heavy makeup. The freckles on her nose wouldn’t do, either. But there was a sort of girl-woman wildness about her that made his pulse quicken, as if he’d been shot full of adrenaline.

Catching him looking, she glared at him. “Let’s go, then.”

When they reached the trees a few minutes later, she collapsed on the ground near a stunted pine. Sitting down with his back against the trunk of another tree, he fished two apples out of the knapsack and handed her one. She held it in one hand, swatted with the other at the blackflies that had descended on them as soon as they stopped moving.

“Must be a second hatching, it’s a bit late in the season.” He reached into his knapsack for insect repellent and held the small container out to her. She shook her head, not looking at him. Maybe she was one of those health-conscious types, suspicious of the ingredients. “You sure? They’ll eat you alive.”

This earned him a heated look. “I’m sure.”

Okay
. Somebody was in a prickly mood. Couldn’t blame her, really. Thirst and hunger could do that to you, not to mention aching muscles. Bloody scrapes from climbing in the cave crisscrossed her arms and legs. And then there was the fact that killers were hunting her down. She looked terrified, a vein pulsing in her throat, those green eyes constantly darting over the barrens.

A blackfly landed on his neck, began feasting, its bite like tiny knives slicing into the flesh. He slapped some bug dope on his neck, arms, and legs, feeling the sting from his scratches.

Or maybe she didn’t like him. Normally, he was up for a challenge, but this time he wasn’t sure he wanted to be around her long enough to change her mind. He wasn’t a masochist. The smart thing would be to get her to Egerton—he’d sling her over his shoulder if he had to—then run in the other direction. But was he smart enough to do the smart thing?

Standing up, he slipped on his knapsack. “Ready?”

“How far do we have to go?”

“At a rough guess, eight or nine miles.”

Still sitting, she looked up, shielded her eyes with her hand. “Why the rush? Does it really matter if we get to Egerton a bit later?”

Rubbing a hand over his face, he wondered if putting her over his shoulder would happen sooner rather than later. “We have to get out of the open.” He kept his voice even. “Once we get to where there are more trees, in a couple of hours, we can slow down.”

Scowling, she stood up, scratching a red welt on that long, pale neck. She was a pretty package, all right, but wrapped in barbed wire.

As they hiked farther inland and the soil deepened, the landscape started changing. The trees were taller, less emaciated, and the plants grew thicker. A small warbler, yellow with black streaks, landed on a nearby shrub. Bobbing its tail, the chubby bird flitted down to the ground, chased insects with a singular purpose.

They had walked for an hour, not talking much, when Emily said, “I’ve given you lots of information but I know nothing about you.”

“What do you want to know?”

“You were in the military?”

“I retired from the marines four years ago. I build houses now. I’m from Maine but live in Boston. My dad lives just over the state border in Maine. I have a sister. She’s a teacher.”

She said, “Your mother?”

“She died when I was young.”

She thought about that for a minute. “Why did you leave the marines?”

“I loved it, but not enough to do my whole life. Too much time away. But along the way I picked up an engineering degree, got interested in construction.”

They walked for a few minutes without saying anything before she came up with another question. “When did you pick up photography?”

“I’m pretty new to it. My sister got me a camera last Christmas, said I needed to stop working so much.”

He looked over his shoulder and smiled. “Satisfied? Think you can trust me now?”

“From what you’ve just given me?” She rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t count on it.”

“Ask away. I’m better with questions.”

She frowned. “I’ve learned that the hard way.”

Her interest in him must have run out, because more questions didn’t come. She obviously had enough distractions. He thought about what she’d told him. Something didn’t fit. It didn’t make sense that all those other people, including the police, were wrong. Did her cousin make up a story to cover a planned suicide?

Snatching up a blade of grass, he chewed on it and looked at her. “You were saying that the police wouldn’t reopen the investigation. What happened then?”

She scowled. “More questions?”

He smiled. “Unless you have some for me.”

She drew in a breath. “A few days after I went to the police, somebody attacked me. I was walking to Nicky’s place after work. She was having a party. It happened a couple of blocks from her apartment. It was night, dark. Some man came out of nowhere.   I don’t know who he was. He had a baseball bat.”

“What the hell? That’s crazy.”

“I’m sure he would have killed me, but a car came along and he took off.” She lifted her hair off her forehead, showed him a thin pink scar a couple of inches long near the hairline. “The couple in the car took me to Nicky’s and she took me to emergency. Eight stitches. Doctor said I was lucky.” She grimaced. “I didn’t feel so lucky at the time.”

Without thinking, he reached over to touch the scar but she flinched away from him.

Pulling back, she said, “It’s okay. My hair hides it.”

“What did the police say about it?”

“They thought it was a random attack.”

He chewed on that for a second. It was possible. “How did you end up here?”

“I wasn’t going to wait around for him to try again. I decided to take off for a while.”

“Why the island?”

“I don’t have much money. My mother couldn’t help me out. I saw an ad for a waitress at the island resort in a travel magazine.” She stopped short, as if remembering something. “They’re going to be mad at me for not showing up for work today. They’re really short-staffed.” Her shoulders lifted in a little shrug. “Oh well, it can’t be helped.”

“I’d say.” He gave her a quizzical look. With her life in danger, it seemed an odd thing to worry about. “Do you think you could have been followed to the resort?”

“I don’t see how. I was really careful. And I didn’t tell anybody where I was going. I just picked up and left.”