Midnight Exposure (24 page)

Reed stared at Jayne’s back. His gut twisted. Pressure built inside his chest. “It’s not what you think.” He turned toward her. Jayne opened the door and jumped out of the truck. Reed climbed down from the cab and rounded the hood. As he stepped toward her, her posture went defensive, one hand extended in front of her, palm out.

She backed away, turquoise eyes open wide and brimming with betrayal.

Reed halted and lifted both hands in surrender. “Jayne, I didn’t kill my wife. The case dragged on, and the press wanted someone arrested so they skewered me. They wouldn’t leave us alone. Christ, they even parked outside Scott’s elementary school. That’s why we moved here. That’s why I use my middle name now. I can’t stomach the thought of Scott getting hammered by the media again.”

No doubt Jayne was thinking about another man she’d once trusted, the fellow student who’d attacked her.

“I’m sorry, Reed.” She slid behind the wheel of her Jeep. Her voice shook. “I need to think.”

“Where are you going?”

She didn’t answer as she slammed her door. The locks clicked with a finality that made the ache in Reed’s chest swell. She’d trusted him, and now she thought he was a killer.

Reed’s raw throat clogged as she pulled away.

“Better start packing, Kimball.” Doug’s mouth twisted as he spat out the words. “This town will turn on you once everyone finds out you’ve been lying all this time. But you’ll have to hang around for the investigation. I’m sure the state police detective will want to speak to—”

Reed turned his back on the cop midthreat. The cop’s voice faded under the weight of Reed’s thoughts.

Jayne was alone. Vulnerable.

But what could he do?
She’d
left
him
. Because he’d hidden his past. Doug was an asshole, but he was right. Reed had been living a lie for years.

He reached for his vehicle door handle and jerked it open. He drove away without a backward glance. His fingers were numb as he punched in the number for Jayne’s new cell. He’d programmed his cell number into the new phone. She’d know it was him. The sick, helpless feeling in his gut intensified as the line rang.

Jayne didn’t answer.

He ducked behind the dashboard of his vehicle as Jayne passed by. Her Jeep stopped at the corner, then pulled out onto Main Street.

He glanced at the digital clock. He’d give her five minutes so he didn’t frighten her before she was out of town. Then he’d “happen upon” her and offer roadside assistance. The Taser was in the console, ready to subdue her if necessary. There was no reason to engage in a physical confrontation. No doubt Brigid had spiritual powers. She possessed unusual strength of body and soul befitting
a Celtic goddess. His balls and jaw still ached from the blows she’d landed.

His goddess had proven herself worthy once again.

He bit his lip and checked the time. Her five minutes were up. By now her Jeep had likely died. He started his engine and turned onto Main. Jayne wouldn’t be able to drive more than a few miles before breaking down. Not with a load of bleach in her engine oil. She wouldn’t make it to the highway.

He’d get her this time. He had to. The solstice approached.

Time was running out.

Jayne stopped at the last intersection on Main Street. Her Jeep coughed as she accelerated through the turn onto the country road that led to the highway. A thick mixture of loneliness and fear crushed her chest. Tears blurred her vision, and she swiped an angry hand across her eyes.

Despite the half hour she’d sat in front of the park, stewing over Doug’s revelation and trying to get her head on straight, a course of action eluded her.

She wasn’t sure whom she was angry with—Reed, Doug, or Ty Jennings. All three deserved a portion. Maybe she wasn’t meant to have a normal relationship. She could get a dog. Dogs were faithful. Dogs didn’t lie.

But a dog couldn’t make her insides melt like Velveeta in the microwave.

She checked her rearview mirror for the twentieth time as she left the town behind. Nothing but white, asphalt, and trees stretched out behind her. A sense of isolation crept up her spine.

She was on her own.

A shiver passed through her bones. She cranked the heat a notch higher and pushed the Jeep past the speed limit. The engine wheezed in protest, so she backed off the accelerator.

Snow blanketed the countryside. Its frozen surface reflected sunlight like frosted glass. With the turbulence of her emotions, she expected dark clouds to gather overhead. But the sun shone with a vengeance, illuminating all that had been concealed by the storm in harsh, brilliant light.

Had she been a fool? Was Reed really dangerous?

Her instincts said she could trust him. He’d saved her life, hadn’t he? So he hadn’t told her everything about his past. They’d only been together for few days. Hardly enough time for complete soul-baring. But she’d trusted Ty and hadn’t seen any sign of his violent, angry side until it was too late.

Jayne hadn’t exactly been honest about her job. The whole tabloid thing had failed to come up in a single conversation. She knew from her self-defense classes that stranger attacks were rare. Most women who suffered violence were assaulted by someone they knew.

The landscape passed by in a white blur. Where was she going? She needed a plan. Something proactive to block out the grief wringing her insides dry.

She slipped a hand into the pocket of the borrowed coat. The disposable cell phone Reed had bought her was heavy in her palm as she drew it out. There was only one person who’d have the real scoop on Jefferson Kimball’s story. She punched the numbers for the
Daily Scoop
, feeling slimy before the line even connected.

A few minutes and a truckload of lies later, Jayne disconnected the call and crossed her fingers. Her plan was sketchy, but not bad considering she’d had all of five minutes to come up with
it. Jason had agreed to wire her some money as soon as she hit the next town. He’d also spring for a hotel room. Apparently, her firsthand account of the kidnapping was worth serious coin. And the inquiry into Reed’s background had set off her editor’s vulturish instincts.

Like a good scavenger, Jason had smelled blood.

When Jayne was settled, safely hidden in a room under the corporate name, she’d wait for Jason to call with the information about Reed. She wasn’t making any decisions until she knew the truth.

Had her request put Reed in danger of exposure? Yes, but with news crews already en route to Huntsville, that was a given regardless of what she did.

She’d read the article the cop had given her. The piece was light on facts and heavy on speculation. Jayne knew that newspapers lied. The
Daily Scoop
twisted the truth into its evil stepsister every single day, which made Jason the perfect person to ferret out the real story.

According to Jason, the next town was about thirty minutes down the interstate. Jayne was fishing in the center console for her GPS when the engine sputtered and the Jeep began to slow. Was that smoke coming from under the hood?

Jayne eased off the gas pedal and scanned the dashboard. Her temperature gauge waved way into the red. A few agonizing seconds later, the engine died out with a final shudder and wheeze. Smoke and steam poured from the engine. With no power steering, Jayne hauled on the wheel to guide the Jeep as far to the side of the road as possible. The plows hadn’t cleared the entire shoulder. Her tires crunched on the icy snowpack.

Shit. Shit.
Shit
.

Her forehead dropped onto the steering wheel, and she smacked a palm on the dashboard. “I know you’re old and I
haven’t always treated you right. But did you have to die on me
today
?” Unless her car had been sabotaged. Could someone have broken into the garage and tampered with it?

Regardless, her plan had just been erased.

Jayne raised her head and looked out the windshield. A green highway marker rose from the roadside about a quarter mile away. She squinted. Did it say the ramp was two miles ahead? That put her maybe three miles from town. Walking distance. She scanned the ice-covered landscape. In the summer. In this weather, the distance would feel like an eternity.

A quick call to the auto shop netted her a promise that the tow truck, out on another call, would retrieve her car in an hour or so.

This was what she got for working for a tabloid paper, her just desserts served up as a long walk in dirty roadside slush.

She kicked open the door and retrieved her duffel bag from the backseat. The bright winter sun glared at her from over the trees. She could call Reed. He would come and get her. No. Not until she heard from Jason.

She’d better move it if she wanted to be in town before dark. She zipped up her borrowed jacket and started walking. Icy water invaded her mesh running shoes in the first ten strides. She tucked her hands inside the coat pockets.

She’d walked for ten minutes when an engine purred. Jayne stopped; her heart bumped. A small speck appeared on the horizon, coming from the direction of town.

Jayne scanned her surroundings. The forest edge was about twenty yards away. Should she run for the woods and hide? She’d have to slog through several feet of snow. She’d never make it. And her trail would be too visible for her to hide anyway.

What were the chances that was her stalker? It could be anybody. Huntsville had over a thousand residents. Unless, of course, he’d followed her.

The vehicle sped closer. It was a truck, a large dark SUV.

It slowed as it approached.

Jayne held her breath. She removed the shoulder strap of her duffel and gripped the hand straps to make the bag easier to drop if she needed both hands free. Or if she needed to run. The truck pulled over. Sunlight glittered off the windshield. The door opened.

Nathan Hall climbed out.

Jayne’s breath whooshed out in one quick exhalation.

“Having some car trouble?”

“It overheated. Can you believe my luck?” Jayne waved a hand at the disabled Jeep. “Do you know anything about cars?”

“A little.”

“Could you take a look? Maybe it’s something minor.”

His eyes widened at the mushroom cloud issuing from under the Jeep’s hood. “That’s not something minor. And you shouldn’t open the hood until the engine cools. I could drive you back into town.”

Jayne chewed her lip.

Nathan tilted his head and flashed a smile. His clothes were rumpled but clean. No sign of the soot that had streaked Reed from head to toe. Nathan hadn’t run into a burning building to save a friend.

“It’s a long walk,” he said.

How many options did she have? It would take her a half hour to walk to town. A lot could happen to a girl in that span of time, especially in an isolated spot like this one. The road wasn’t
highly traveled. Nathan’s was the only car she’d seen so far. Once again, Jayne was smack between a rock and a slab of granite. But could she trust him? And if she didn’t, who might come along next?

“OK.”

Her cell phone rang as Nathan reached for her bag. She reached into her pocket. “Excuse me for a minute.”

Reed shifted into park and looked up. He was sitting in front of his house. Numb, he climbed from the vehicle. The phone pealed just as he opened the front door. A tiny spark of hope was immediately extinguished when he read the display. Scott. Not Jayne. His next breath was a lonely shudder.