It was the scream that woke him, breaking through the fog of Jeff’s brain to penetrate deep enough so he no longer could ignore what was happening around him. Toni was hurt.
His whole body was on fire, way too reminiscent of the day his arm had been blown off. Don’t let this be happening again. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t wake up and find that he’d lost something else.
“Jeff!”
He opened his eyes and saw her through the wire cage door. He lay on the hot concrete, his leg across a dismantled bale of hay. A pitchfork had fallen on his arm. He pulled his arm out from beneath the pitchfork and had to wince because it felt like his entire shoulder had been wrenched back too far.
He pushed himself up, inhaled, and wound up back on the ground with heavy coughs spasming his whole body.
“Get up, Jeff. You have to get up.” She held her arm against her front, cradling it. “We have to get you out of there.” She looked around.
It all rushed back.
The bedroom with its wall of articles and photos. His sister. Toni had come here to find his sister. None of it made any more sense than the man he’d seen down here. The one who had shut him in and set the barn on fire. Fire. He pushed up the rest of the way and got his feet under him.
She winced.
Guess he didn’t look so good. His head thumped with every beat of his heart, so there was that. He was pretty much just going to ignore it, though. Didn’t matter if they ended up burned to death in here.
“How are we going to get this open?” She showed him her hand. “The latch is practically red hot.”
Not to mention the fact flames were battling all around her. “Back up.” He saw that a wide swatch of the barn was covered in fire extinguisher foam. That was good. Jeff tucked in his arm, lifted his foot, and slammed the sole of his boot into the lock. It bent, but didn’t open.
He kicked it again, two more times, focusing on the weakest part of the latch. Softened metal moved. He made an opening out of the bent door, enough to squeeze through. He got singed in a couple of places, but gritted his teeth and decided to worry about that later as well.
“Let’s go.”
“Where? We can’t climb back up the ladder and the door is blocked.”
“You’ve made a clear area. Check for a spot in the wall where we can kick our way out, or bash it out with something, or try to find another door.” There had to be some way other than the big doors at the front. Like with the apartment upstairs and its secondary exit. A rudimentary way of fire escape.
Even though it was at the front of his mind to ask her about all her papers of the night his sister went missing he didn’t bring it up. Now wasn’t the time.
He walked past Toni and started looking for ways to escape the barn. There was no point talking or wasting time.
Later they would have to talk over everything, and she could explain it all to him. If she even remembered.
He was also going to have to tell Tate that the man had returned, and this time with yet more deadly intentions.
“Are you finding anything?”
He moved an upturned pallet away from the wall. “Not yet. But keep looking.”
She said nothing. He knew he sounded gruff, but didn’t want to know if he’d hurt her feelings. There would be time for that later as well.
Jeff shoved over a stack of boxes and found a tower of four old, mostly-bald car tires. Behind it, the wall looked different. “Toni!”
“What is it?”
“Help me move these.”
She grabbed the top tire. “Do you think it’s a little door?”
“Could be for animals, like a door for pigs to come and go.”
She made a sound like, “Ugh,” but didn’t complain past that. He took the second tire and wrestled it off the stack one-handed. His entire body felt like he’d been hit by a truck—a red-hot truck that had singed all his skin.
He reached back and felt a knot on his head. “I think he hit me with a crowbar, or something.” He winced and lowered his hand. Touching it was apparently not a good idea. Then again, she had that goose egg under the bandage on her forehead, and she’d wound up with amnesia. He had it good compared to her.
Toni crouched and found a latch. She used her sweater sleeve to open it and the door swung out. “Yes!” She crawled through first.
Jeff followed a whole lot more awkwardly while the phone in his pocket rang. His head grazed the top of the opening, but he got outside. “What about your landlady?”
“She was still upstairs when I climbed down.” Toni set off around the barn. “I told her to stay put and wait for help.”
“Why not just go out the front door?”
“It was locked. Or jammed shut somehow.” She glanced back, worry clear on her face. “I hope she’s okay stuck up there.”
“So he subdued me and shut me in that cage, set fire to the barn, and locked you guys in upstairs?”
“Was it the man from the lake?”
“I think so.” But he couldn’t be sure. “I didn’t see his face. I tried to fight him off, but—”
“I’m sure you did the best you could.”
He frowned at that. “I don’t need your pity. I’m still alive, aren’t I?” Someone might have tried to kill all of them. It didn’t work, though. Otherwise, he’d be dead. “You found me, and we got out.”
“And you’re mad about that? I’m sorry I had to save you, okay? But right now, I need to get the landlady out. I don’t have time to deal with you feeling sorry for yourself.”
“I don’t feel sorry for myself.”
She turned to him at the bottom of the stairs. Instead of waiting to hear what she had to say, or continuing this conversation, he headed up. Taking each step two-at-a-time, he saw the problem before he reached the top. A piece of two-by-four had been jammed under the door handle.
He kicked it out of its wedged spot, wondering why kicking things was just so satisfying for dealing with frustration. The wood shifted and splintered, and he got the door open. “Hello?”
The older woman was there. “Thank you. You saved…” She stared at him. “I know you.”
Jeff turned away and trotted down the stairs.
“You’re alive!” That was the woman.
Toni waited for her at the bottom of the stairs while Jeff studied the barn.
“We’re all okay, seems like,” Toni said.
He heard an embrace and wondered who’d initiated it. Had Toni remembered who she was? Or maybe why she was here, tearing apart the days surrounding his sister’s disappearance—what they now knew was the night of her murder. The police were looking for Annabelle’s body. Why did Toni feel the need to dredge everything up?
She could be a reporter. That was the last thing he needed. It would expose everything he’d tried to keep secret for two years—namely that he was definitely not dead.
And the fact she’d had his address in her pocket? That wasn’t something any old reporter could get their hands on. It was the work of someone with a whole lot more connection than some street journalist—even if her job was on a national level. It wasn’t even hidden in a classified file somewhere.
Jeff simply didn’t exist.
Tate was the only person in town who knew where Jeff lived. Other than Tate, there was one other. But there was no way Zander had betrayed him.
“Thank you so much for getting me out.” The woman gasped. “The whole barn is on fire.”
Jeff kept his attention on their surroundings, telling himself it was about looking for the man. He could be hiding. Waiting to pick them off with a well-placed shot to the head. Though, he’d shown no marksmanship skills so far.
A car pulled off the highway and down the drive. Jeff had left his truck to the west, tucked in the trees so the driver shouldn’t have been able to see it. “Someone is headed this way.”
He was going to have to leave before they got here.
Jeff turned. “Toni?”
The landlady faced away from him, staring at the car. “That’ll be Conroy. He’s the chief of police I told you about. He said he was closest.”
Toni stared at him.
Jeff motioned away from the woman with his head. She walked with him so they were out of earshot. “You need medical attention for your hand.”
She winced. “Don’t remind me.”
“Sorry.”
She shook her head. “That’s not what I meant. I’m just glad we’re all alive, that the plan to kill us didn’t work, and we’re not hurt too much. Just singed.”
He had a feeling her hand was more than just stinged, but he said, “I’m glad, too. But I have to go. I can’t still be here when Conroy arrives. He’ll recognize me on sight.” At least, it was possible. They’d played football together in high school. Long time ago, but the chief didn’t get where he was without working out obscure connections. At least, Jeff didn’t figure as much.
“Do you want me to go with you?”
“It’s quicker if you stay here, so you can be seen at the hospital.”
“I do want to know what she knows about who I am.” She motioned with her good hand to the landlady. “She thinks my name is Tonya, but she might have more answers about why I came here.”
Jeff pressed his lips together. She’d come here to dig up painful parts of his past for her own gain. Never mind that his presence here should be a well-guarded secret, one he’d gone to great lengths to ensure stayed within the knowledge of only a few people.
Now there was a man trying to kill them, and he knew he couldn’t trust her. “Talk to Tate. Have Conroy call him. Tell them both you need protection.”
She gasped. “You think he’ll try again?”
“Is it worth the risk?”
She’d been worried someone would find her. She’d tried to remain under the radar. But it was too late for that now. If she wanted to stay alive, she should come out into the open.
He took a step away as the car pulled up.
“Where are you going?”
All he said was, “Take care of yourself.”
His whole life had been burned. It was time for Jeff to bug out, hit his secondary location, and figure out what to do next so he could start over. Again.
The car door opened.
He was burned anyway. No. It’s not worth it. His body swayed as he fought the internal battle. Stay, or go. Run, or allow Conroy to see him when there was every chance the chief would realize exactly who he was.
Jeff turned away as soon as he could make his body move. The urge to stay and be recognized by an old friend, to make a move that could end up with him back with his family, it was too strong. He had to fight it with everything in him.
Even if it was the last thing he did.
Otherwise, it would be the last thing they did. His enemies would come, and he would lose everything for good this time.
He broke into a jog, ignoring the police chief’s call. Jeff picked up his pace to a sprint and headed for the nearest cover while his phone rang again in his pocket.
He sprinted flat out for his truck and didn’t stop until he shut the door.
Then he let out a long, shuddering breath, his head still pounding. He hadn’t been around people in the daylight for years. But he couldn’t allow a panic attack to take hold.
He swiped the cracked screen protector on his phone and redialed the number. Zander.
“So, she found you?”
“You’re the one who gave her my address?”
“Of course I did,” the other man said. “You told me you fell for her.”