No Time to Hide (10 page)

He was about to pull into the plaza area when he noticed the sedan parked to one side of the main building.

Cutter hated the assumptions of television and movie scriptwriters that always proclaimed government agents could be told by their shoes and their cars. But he was also honest. With the never-ending budget cuts, the last thing any director wanted was a Washington paper-pusher screaming about the cost of high-powered, kick-ass cars being driven around by agents. The late-model, dirty beige Chevy screamed government. He frowned. They shouldn’t be here. Not now, not yet. Something was wrong.

He hesitated, barely lifting his foot off the accelerator. Long ago he’d stopped trying to fight his instinct. It had saved his keister many times over. There was no real reason he should be wary of meeting up with someone else from the government. It could be Johnson. It could be Denver. Whoever it was could have information he needed to keep Kerry safe. Or, please God, information for turning her over to the relocation team.

But everything inside him was screaming that these people showing up here and now was no damn good. Every instinct he’d ever acknowledged was yelling to get the hell out of Dodge.

With that thought in his mind, he kept the pressure on the accelerator and streamed past Smokin’ Bob’s. Just another guy rolling down the road to anywhere but there. He would double back across country roads, before picking up Kerry. He wasn’t certain their guaranteed safe house was safe anymore. That led him to several pressing issues. The most immediate one was, if they had found out about the cabin, where in the world could he take Kerry that was safe?

Mentally he ran through their options. He had about two grand in cash, courtesy of the stash left at the government safe house. Thankfully, he’d removed it from the wall safe before their hurried flight and two pistols, one he’d left with Kerry and one he kept. There were those instincts again. Proof you shouldn’t question the luck of idiots and crooks. He didn’t want to risk going to an ATM because retrieving money electronically left a paper trail even an enterprising seven-year-old could follow. He didn’t dare call his boss because he still wasn’t sure where the leak was coming from. Hell, the leak could be his boss. That left only one option. It wasn’t an option he wanted to utilize, but what the hell. He’d done other stupid things, just not recently.

He made a hard right off the asphalt and onto a dirt road. Maybe he’d get lucky and Stan wouldn’t be home. Then all he’d have to do was a little B and E.

***

Sunday, 10:45 A.M.

The cabin was just like he remembered it and looked empty. Still, Cutter wasn’t about to take any chances at this point, so he drove around to the back and parked the car in the overgrowth that had started to reclaim the area. He stood motionless for a few moments to make certain no one was moving about, either outside the cabin or inside.

When he saw nothing, he moved to the back porch and turned the door handle. It swung noiselessly open and he entered the small kitchen. The cabin was a twin of the one he and Kerry were using, so he didn’t need to familiarize himself with the layout. He went right for the cabinet above the chipped porcelain sink and found the coffee can. Inside, buried amid black aromatic grounds, was a small plastic freezer bag. Inside aluminum foil, he found eight twenties, three tens and, the jackpot, three hundreds. And a nice extra surprise of a handgun and ammo clip.

“Thank God for crazy, paranoid Stan,” he muttered. He started to wad up the foil, then stopped. Stan might punch first and talk later because he’d never really forgiven Cutter for Helen’s death, but he would never provide the government with information about Cutter. He was the one person left in the whole world now Cutter knew he could trust. Well, the one person other than the woman waiting at another cabin for him.

Where did that thought come from? It was almost so ridiculous that he laughed. He didn’t trust Kerry. For all he knew, she was the leak keeping everyone hot on their trail. He shrugged aside the niggling thought that it wasn’t true and focused on the things right in front of him this minute.

First, he had to leave Stan a note.

Cutter found a piece of paper, jotted down three words, then folded it in the foil, replaced the foil in the plastic bag and put them both inside of the coffee can. He put the lid back on and left it on the countertop. It would be his ace in the hole.

He was almost ready to leave. He heard the distinctive sound of a trigger being cocked in the silence of the cabin. He didn’t bother to curse. It wouldn’t matter because, unless something drastic happened, he was about to die.

***

Sunday, 10:00 A.M.

The third time Kerry started nervously as she walked along the overgrown path that led to the water, she chided herself. She’d made the decision to strike out on her own almost as a dare to herself. She walked with the gun in her purse and her sketchpad in her hand. Cutter had been gone almost an hour. She had left a note on the table in case he returned before she got back to the cabin. Since he felt they were safe here and she had begun to trust him, her earlier misgivings were quiet. She felt safer than she had in years so she was going to relish that safety.

But her newfound courage was a little thin if she started like a squirrel in a strange forest at every little noise.

That thought brought a smile to her face. There was an idea for a story. She spotted a fallen tree ahead of her. She sat, opened her sketch pad, and went to work.

She lost all track of time. She chewed on her bottom lip anxiously. Coming up with a title was the hard part. She started once, crossed it out, started again. After three tries, she wrote,
Sammy Squirrel Visits Manhattan
. She smiled and nodded to herself. That would do for a working title. Since the drawing was easier than figuring out the story and plotlines, she began there.

Her hand began racing over the page as she drew her main character—a young squirrel starting out on his own. She drew him holding a duffel bag and briefcase as he said good-bye to his friends and family. She drew him riding on a train, whisking him from his home forest. She drew him dressing in a suit for his office job.

She was so enthralled she didn’t move until she heard the snap of a rather large branch to her left.

Whirling around, her heart beating nearly into her throat, she realized that clouds had covered the sun. What had been a cool, refreshing cover from the sun was somehow sinister. The trees and heavy undergrowth muffled all outside sounds and intensified the normal forest sounds. Kerry felt as if she couldn’t breathe and she tried to look at everything surrounding her, searching for something moving that would have been big enough to snap a branch.

“Don’t be silly, girl. There’s nothing there,” she said, trying to give herself confidence and courage she was safe.

Still, a person couldn’t change her instincts overnight. It was one thing to take risks. It was another to get killed. She bent and picked up the sketchpad she’d dropped. Still feeling as if someone, or something, was watching her, she turned and headed back to the cabin, keeping her hand on the gun she carried in her purse. The ground was rough and she didn’t want to risk shooting herself in the foot if she stumbled, but at the same time she wanted to be able to get it if she needed it. Not running or worse, not looking back over her shoulders as she walked, was the hardest thing she had ever done.

***

Sunday, 10:48 A.M.

“Keep your hands in plain view, friend. I’d hate to have to put a nice neat hole in your chest.”

“I don’t mean any harm,” Cutter said.

He held his hands away from his body about chest high. His gun was tucked in the waistband of his pants in the small of his back. There was no way he could get to it. He wasn’t a fool. The man holding the gun on him could and would put a hole in him without blinking an eye.

“Right, and the government just wants to make sure the natives are getting a fair shake with the casino deals, right, brother?”

Cutter started to lower his hands.

“Don’t do it, brother. I’m still not certain you didn’t rob the house blind.”

Cutter turned his head and saw Stan Runningbear move closer. “Hell, brother, I just got here. I was looking for something to leave you a note.”

Stan snorted and released the trigger from the firing position to the safety position. “Right. Still trying to sell that bullshit, eh? Thought you’d have learned there’s no future in that by now.”

In that instant, Cutter moved. He was quick, but not quite quick enough. He managed to get one punch in before Stan brought him to the floor by tackling his legs. The two men grappled for a while, punches flying until Cutter used his superior strength to get into the top position.

When it was over, Cutter had the satisfaction of seeing the blood on Stan’s lip. Of course, from the stinging pain in his jaw and under his eye, he knew his adversary had managed to get in more than just a blow or two.

“Well, brother, what now?” Stan’s breath was a little raspy. Of course, that was probably because Cutter’s one hundred ninety pounds was planted firmly on his chest.

“Brother, that all depends on you. I don’t have a lot of time to waste.”

Stan sighed. “You didn’t take the advice I sent you in the e-mail, did you?”

Cutter shook his head. “Couldn’t. The kitten was already on the loose, so to speak. Now, both me and the kitten are just trying to keep one step ahead.”

Stan nodded. “I knew you were at the cabin last night. That’s why, when the two goons claiming to be marshals, came into the store, I knew something was up.”

Cutter tensed. “Claiming to be?”

“Yeah. There is something very rotten going in that office of yours, buddy. It looks like you should’ve retired a couple of months ago.”

Cutter expelled a long sigh. “Shit. They’re probably Giancarlo’s men.”

“Giancarlo? As in Dominic Giancarlo? The one who’s about to be released from prison?”

“That’s right. I’ve got his fiancée, or ex-fiancée, in the cabin with me. She’s been in WitSec, but her cover keeps getting blown. It happened again on yesterday. We’ve been on the run ever since.”

“This is worse than I thought. Much worse.”

Cutter didn’t comment. What could he say? Stan was absolutely right.

“So what do you need?”

Cutter had been right. Stan and he might not be good friends anymore, but there was no one he’d rather trust in this situation.

“I borrowed some of your stash. I don’t want anyone to be able to track us.”

“Not a problem,” Stan said. “Anything else?”

Cutter thought for a moment. “There is one thing. But you can’t leave any tracks.”

He outlined the vague plan that had been forming for a while. “Can you do that?”

Stan shrugged. “Sure. Just give me a couple of hours. Okay?”

***

Sunday, 11:15 A.M.

She took her first easy breath in what seemed like ages when she reached the forest’s edge. Then her heart stuttered again when she saw Cutter’s stolen car racing over the well-worn track.

When it slid to a stop halfway between her and the cabin, she reached blindly for the door and jumped in.

“What’s going on?” she asked Cutter as she slammed the door.

“The shit has hit the fan. We’re no longer safe here.”

Cutter’s face was etched in granite. There were also signs of bruising around his chin and eyes. Had he been hurt somehow? By whom?

“I thought you said this place was safe. I thought you said no one knew about it. How did they find us?” Kerry cried.

“That’s a very good question,” Cutter replied after a moment.

It seemed he didn’t have an answer for it either.

Sunday, 11:30 A.M.

Cutter took every back road he knew, doubling back-and-forth across the reservation. It was simply a stalling tactic. He knew it. He hoped Kerry wouldn’t be able to figure it out. Because the last thing he needed was for her to panic.

He scratched his head. That wasn’t fair. In fact, Kerry had been calm though this whole mess. He was the one who felt one step away from the loony bin.

They were in a world of hurt now, and he didn’t know where to turn. Their field of suspects was narrowing. Most of the facts pointed to only one person now—Denver. And that made their problems even more dangerous. Denver had contacts that extended past the normal channels and could even delve into privately-held tribal council records. Stan had more than confirmed it with his story of the phony marshals at Smokin’ Bob’s.

“This is the road to Buffalo.” Kerry’s trembling voice as she made the statement shattered his introspection.

“Yes, it’ll take us there.”

“Is it safe to return?”

He could see the light of hope in her eyes. He hated to squash it. “No. This is just a diversionary tactic. I’m trying to figure out some place safe for us to go until we can come up with another plan.”

“Where is that?”

He took his eyes off the road long enough to look at her. He saw she understood just what kind of mess they were in. And he saw the courage she displayed in trying to contain her obvious fear. He almost pulled the car to the side of the road so he could drag her into his arms. He contented himself with running a finger down her cheek. When she closed her eyes and turned into the caress, he nearly groaned aloud.

“I don’t know. But there has to be somewhere.”

Kerry lapsed into silence and Cutter continued to drive, working his way from Niagara County through the edge of Erie County, then over into Genesee County. He stayed completely away from the New York State Thruway, as their pre-paid toll system came complete with cameras along the route. It wouldn’t take much effort to have the DOT transfer their license plate statewide to every law enforcement agency in every podunk town.

“Okay,” he said finally. “Be on the lookout for a motel. It’s time we took a break and used our heads for once. There’s got to be a way out. There has to be.”

As they hit the top of a small hill, the answer to his prayers came into view. The small motel had certainly seen better days. However, it was all on one floor and just down the road from a small stop-and-go gas station and convenience market.

Cutter pulled into the parking lot in front of the motel. The glass door had a small, lettered “Lobby” on it. He wondered if the owners realized most people wouldn’t even be able to find it. Maybe that was part of their plan.

He went in and rented a room for the week. Although he felt the guy had tripled the rate when he charged him ninety dollars, in their situation it was a steal. He thanked his lucky stars that Stan followed the “don’t trust anyone but yourself, man” school of bookkeeping. A little over two thousand beans wasn’t a lot of cash, but in a place like this, it would give them a little time. And right now, time was the only problem he could solve.

He got in the car and turned to Kerry. “Okay, for now we’ve got the last two rooms in this place. They’re adjoining. The guy thinks we’re brother and sister.”

“Thank you. I know it’s silly…”

“No problem. It’s not like the guy didn’t have the rooms. If he hadn’t had the connecting ones, though, we would’ve had to split one.”

“Yes, I know. For security.”

“Yeah. It only makes sense. I don’t think anyone followed us, but we can’t be too careful.”

Kerry nodded. “Of course not. What do we do now?”

“First, let’s get some food. These rooms don’t have a kitchen or anything so it’s going to have to be junk for a while. At least until I can scout around and find us a restaurant or something.”

“Where, exactly, are we?”

“We’re about halfway between Buffalo and Rochester. I guess the closest place of any size to us is Batavia.”

Kerry frowned. “That sounds familiar to me.”

Cutter shrugged. “You’ve probably heard it on television or something. There’s a big prison near here.”

“Attica.”

“That’s right. I believe lover boy’s granddaddy spent some time here in the sixties.”

Kerry grew quiet.

Cutter cursed. “I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. I guess I’m just a little on edge. Everything has been off on this whole job, and I’m not very happy about it.”

“And I am?”

***

Kerry opened her door and headed for their rooms. After a moment more kicking himself, Cutter followed and held out the key to her room.

“Let me just check things out, okay?”

She bit her bottom lip and nodded. He knew she was close to crying and felt lower than he had in months. He opened one room and took a quick look around. He turned the knob on the pitiful excuse for a lock on the door that separated the rooms and opened the door leading to the second one.

They were twins in everything. Two double beds with mattresses with obvious sags in the middle, two dull brown spreads that didn’t add anything to the beige acoustical tiled walls, and the brown and gold deep shag carpet with worn spots near a small bureau.

The bureau held a television, bolted to the top, with a chipped gold lamp sitting next to it. He walked through the room and checked out the bathroom. It held a stand-alone shower, toilet, and pedestal sink. The surfaces were clean but worn.

The only difference in the two rooms was the color of the tiles in the bathroom. One was orange and white and the other was yellow and white.

Kerry stood silently in the doorway.

“Okay, it’s all clear. You can have first choice of the rooms if you’d like.”

Kerry nodded and carried her purse—the only belonging she had on her—into the first one. She put the large bag down on the counter. He thought about her bag. Essentially, since the latest problems started in the mall, the bag and its contents were everything she owned. The realization made him feel grimmer.

“I’m sorry about this. As soon as possible I’ll try and find a place where I can buy you some new clothes. Something.”

Kerry looked blankly at him, as if she didn’t realize he was speaking to her. Her words confirmed it. “What? Oh, don’t worry. It’s not like this hasn’t happened before.”

Cutter nodded. He cursed under his breath that he had to be the cause of this latest upheaval. And he wondered, not for the first time since he’d sent them on the run, if he wasn’t overreacting. Then he thought again of the pictures of Kerry’s father after Dom’s handiwork and knew he wasn’t.

“Look,” he said, “I know it isn’t exciting, but I don’t know what else we can do except hide out. Frankly, I don’t even know who to trust now.”

Kerry slumped down onto the hard chair next to a rickety table. “I know. I’ve felt that way ever since this whole thing first started.”

Cutter sank down on the edge of the bed. “Look, before we had to hightail it out of there, I was able to talk to the one person I believe we can trust. It’s a long shot on whether he can help us, but if he can, it may save us some trouble.”

Kerry sat forward. “Who is it?”

“My brother-in-law.”

“Oh. Well, it’s good you stayed close even after your wife’s death.”

“We didn’t…exactly.”

“What do you mean
exactly
?”

“Well, the last time I saw him before today, he nearly killed me.” With the memory, Cutter could feel the sting of Stan’s fist meeting his chin. “And he got in a few blows today as well.”

“I see some bruises. That must have hurt.”

“Which time?”

Kerry threw up her hands. “Now and then, I guess.”

“Until this morning, I hadn’t seen Stan in about three months.”

“What happened that time?” Kerry’s interest was touching.

He felt her gaze rove over him as if searching for any injuries, damage. It had been a long time since anyone had worried about his safety. It felt good, damn good.

“I saw him outside a bar in Buffalo. Two buddies managed to break us up before the cops got there. That would’ve been a stain on my record that would have been hard to explain.”

“And you fought again today?”

“When he came in and caught me robbing him.” He waved her next question away. “Long story. I wanted to get us a little extra cash.”

Kerry chewed on her bottom lip. He felt his desire for her spike.

“And this is your best hope for helping us out of this jam?” she finally asked.

Cutter could hear the skepticism in Kerry’s voice. He didn’t blame her one bit.

“Yeah. I think three months ago when we fought, he hadn’t quite forgiven me for letting Helen go on that last assignment with a rookie team.”

“And now?”

Cutter sighed. “I think he’s forgiven me.”

“Have you forgiven yourself?”

Cutter laid back against the spread and looked up at the ceiling tiles. They were darkened, indicating the roof had leaked at some point in time. The owners may have fixed the roof, but the ceilings had been forgotten. Obviously, the motel’s owners didn’t put a high priority on upkeep.

“Yes. If you’d asked me that two weeks or a month ago, I’d have said no.” He shrugged. He could be honest up to a point. He didn’t, or wouldn’t, tell her when he’d started to put the blame aside. He wasn’t certain of the exact moment himself.

Kerry sighed. “Blaming oneself is so easy and such a waste of time, isn’t it? That’s what I tell myself, but it’s so hard not to do it when the people we love are gone. When we’re left to wonder what-if?”

Cutter grunted. He wasn’t really comfortable with these kinds of discussions. Of course, he wasn’t really comfortable talking about anything when all he could think about was how she looked running across the field toward his car a few hours ago. She had been wearing his T-shirt, though he doubted if she realized it. It had never looked quite so good on him as it did on her. But it was more than just the way she looked in her clothes that attracted him to her.

It was her unsinkable spirit. No matter what had been thrown at her, no matter what had been asked of her, she had simply done the best she could to do with it. No tears, no awful recriminations, no hysterics. And with each hour he spent in her presence, the need to protect her, to understand her, grew.

Take now for instance. They were in a motel one step below fleabag. It was the type frequented by truckers, farm boys, and hookers. Kerry didn’t fit in with any of those groups. Other than taking a quick look around while he searched their rooms, she had been completely accepting.

He scratched a nonexistent itch above his eyebrow. He had to stop worrying about where they were staying and start figuring out who was gunning for them. But first, he had to get his mind off the decidedly non-businesslike things he wanted to do to her. And with her.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said suddenly.

Kerry paused in the act of setting down her purse. “Where are we going now?”

“Let’s go find some food and some new clothes before this one-horse town closes down for the night. I’m starving and you’re so thin I’m thinking a good stiff breeze off Lake Erie will blow you away.”

The last statement was so far from the truth that she should see through it in a New York minute. He didn’t think there was one single thing wrong with her figure, but he wasn’t about to tell her that. And if they didn’t get out of this room, which was fostering nothing but unprofessional thoughts, he would be doing more than telling her what he thought of her figure.

***

It didn’t take them long to find the plaza. It was typical of any small-town place. There was a large national discount store that carried everything from basic home and garden supplies to clothes and toys. There was also a drug store, locally-owned pizzeria, a movie rental store, and a burger joint. They decided to hit the discount store first, then eat.

Kerry picked out a package of panties. She stuck with white cotton because going with the frilly lace ones she normally favored was much too embarrassing to purchase in front of Cutter. She added a package of socks.

Then she moved over to the casual wear section, grabbed a couple of solid-colored, sturdy cotton T-shirts, one with long sleeves in case the weather turned cold, and an extra pair of jeans.

The whole time she was in the clothing department, Cutter paced beside her like a caged lion.

“I’m hurrying as much as I can,” she said, chewing on her bottom lip. “I hate to spend all our money on things just for me. Isn’t there anything you need?”

He shrugged. “I guess I’m getting a little funky.”

She wheeled their cart around and headed for the men’s department.

“You’re making me very nervous. Do you think it’s unsafe for me to be seen in here?” she finally asked.

He shrugged. “I don’t think so. I haven’t seen anyone tailing us.”

“I hear a
but
at the end of that sentence,” she said.