He was living a dream, or a nightmare. Pilar Jefferson’s pale gray eyes, the eyes that he would never forget, stared at him from a face he did not recognize. The voice though...there was no disguising the soft cadence that was hers and hers alone. A million questions raced through his mind, but he could only manage a single word.
“Why?”
It pinned her in place for only a moment. “I have to run. You too.” She bit her lip, body electric with tension. “Get in your truck and leave town.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll go on foot. My car’s in back.”
They both froze at the sound of the kitchen doorknob being jiggled. Pilar pressed her hand across her mouth, her skin a ghastly pallor in the gloom.
Austin thought about his choices, which were not choices at all. He knew what he had to do, as much as it pained him. “Come on. I’ll drive you,” he whispered as he picked up Chunk and hurried to the front foyer.
“No...” she said, so low he almost missed it.
“Seems to me you don’t have another option,” he tossed over his shoulder. “It’s not what I want either, but you’re not going to get far on foot in this storm. You never were one for braving the elements.” Uncalled for, to poke her about that, but he couldn’t help himself.
Still she stood rooted, backpack dangling from her fingers, until there was a crash of a fist coming through a glass pane. They both ran to the front door, flung open the lock, hurtled down the stairs into the pouring rain. At the street, he yanked open the door of his truck with his good arm and stowed Chunk in his carrier in the cramped space behind the passenger seat. Leaping behind the wheel his heart sank.
Pilar was gone. Again. He saw only a flash of her white sneakers as she scooted up the main street and darted between two buildings. Gunning the engine to life, he gave himself practical advice.
She was in trouble that he knew nothing about. Had she gone so far as to have her face surgically altered?
She’d asked him flat out to leave.
She’d refused to get in the truck.
The smartest thing to do would be to drive away and leave her, as she’d done to him.
Leave her...
They were night and day, he reminded himself. She didn’t want the same things he did. The busted marriage ceremony probably saved them both a lot of grief.
Leave...her...
The hard knot in his stomach twisted uncomfortably as he came to a decision.
Muttering, he cranked the wheel and made for the end of the block, windshield wipers slapping ineffectually at the downpour. She’d gone around two commercial buildings that opened into a weedy lot backed by a sort of industrial area. Long stretches of empty pavement interrupted by storage units and scraggly weeds met his searching gaze.
How long would it take for the guy who’d broken the window to ascertain the situation and launch into pursuit mode?
He scanned the blighted landscape. Where had Pilar gone?
More questions followed. What had happened to her? Who was after her? And why?
He hadn’t seen her clearly enough to figure out exactly how her face was different, but the fear in her voice was plain as anything. Not your problem, his brain repeated ever more stridently, yet his stubborn heart kept the truck inching through the pouring rain. A flash of color snagged his attention, no more than a glimpse. Hitting the brakes, he backed up until he was able to discern her clearly, huddled there between giant storage containers. She was leaning against the wet metal siding, clasping her arm.
He was out of the truck and at her side in two seconds.
She jerked a look at him, brow puckered in pain. “What...what are you doing here?”
He ignored the question and pointed to her arm where the blood showed through a gouge in her jacket sleeve. “Cut?”
For a moment he didn’t think she was going to answer. “Caught my arm on a hinge.”
“I have a first-aid kit in the truck.”
“I...”
“Pilar,” he snapped, “I’m tired of standing in the rain. I can’t leave you like this.” She no doubt caught the bitterness in his tone. Leave...like you did to me.
“Yes, you can,” she said, only a shade louder than the rain.
Her expression was stark, desperate and she looked so very broken. His breath caught but he forced a coolness into his voice, a calm he did not feel. “We’ll get you patched up and dropped wherever you want to be delivered.”
She did not reply, merely looked down at her arm. He waited a moment, but still she did not make a move to follow him.
In a risky maneuver, he turned his back, marched to the truck and yanked open the passenger door. As he turned, he wondered. Would she be there behind him? Or had she taken off yet again?
Neither. When he looked, she was standing still, holding her arm, exactly where he’d found her. The rain sheeted off her jacket and soaked the mane of hair, which six months ago had almost matched his blond. Now it was a raven dark mass of dampening curls that almost reached her shoulders.
Who are you, Pilar?
But he did not ask aloud. Instead, he held his breath and waited to see what choice she would make.
The seconds ticked into a full minute. The answer was clear even if he didn’t want to admit it to himself. She hadn’t moved and she wasn’t going to. Pain carved an aching path through his insides as he closed the door and trudged back to the driver’s seat.
What happened to you, Pilar?
He knew he would probably never get the answer to his question as he shifted the truck into Drive.
Pilar stood rooted in the pouring rain. Austin would be better off without her, certainly safer. The cut on her arm ached but nothing like the deep anguish in her chest.
She’d asked God to forgive what she’d done to Austin, but she could see in his eyes that her hurt had changed him in ways she would never understand. She’d let the love she’d felt for him fade into oblivion, but the shame remained. She’d never even said she was sorry. That last bit hurt worse than any laceration.
Was she being given one last chance to apologize? If he left now, she knew she would never see him again. His truck rolled on, and she saw his eyes seeking her in the rearview mirror...like a request, one final invitation.
And then her sneakers were squeaking on the wet ground as she ran to the truck. Stumbling, skidding, panting, she drew closer until he stopped with a jerk, leaning over and opening the passenger door.
She climbed in, insides quivering.
Mouth tight, he reached behind the seat with a wince of pain and pulled out a first-aid kit. “Let’s get you patched up.”
“Not here,” she said. “Keep driving, okay? Please?”
“Where to?”
“Back to the freeway. You can leave me at the first rest stop.” By then she might be able to work up the courage to give him the apology he deserved.
He didn’t answer for a moment. “All right. I’ll make a bargain with you. I’ll do as you say if you answer my questions.”
“Three guesses?” As soon as she’d said it, she wished the words stuffed back into her mouth. It was a game they had played. Three questions, three guesses. They’d enjoyed it on many of their hikes when she’d come to Death Valley as part of her college botany studies. He would be scoping out the trail ahead, calculating the most challenging terrain, picking out the best, most wild expanses, while she would have her gaze riveted to the ground, hunting for plant specimens to admire on safe ground. Opposites attracted.
She saw the muscles in his throat move as he swallowed, but he did not look at her. She busied herself stripping off her sodden jacket and pulling up her sleeve to expose the cut.
“Long,” he said.
“Not deep, though.” With a wipe she cleaned the wound as best she could, wincing at the discomfort.
“First question...why are you pretending to be someone else, Amy?” Sarcasm mixed with curiosity.
What a question to start with. The answer might take a lifetime to fully explain. She tried to put it into one sentence. “My father stole money, and there are people after me who want it back.”
“Your father? I thought he died when you were a kid.”
“So did I. My mother finally told me the truth because his partner threatened us...the morning of our wedding,” she added softly.
His eyebrows lifted nearly to his hairline as he assimilated the information. “Is that why you ran away?”
“It was part of it, but we both know things wouldn’t have worked out.”
“Don’t speak for me, Pilar.”
“You told me as much.”
“And we got past it, didn’t we? We went on to schedule a wedding and everything, or don’t you recall?”
Tears stung her eyes. “Please, Austin. Can we skip that part for now?”
His eyes were flint hard. “Did you have plastic surgery to hide from these cohorts of your father’s?”
“No.” Her breathing went shallow, but she forced herself to answer. “Like I said, my mother had to tell me the truth about my father. He’d been released from prison where he’d served fifteen years for robbing an armored car and injuring the guard. The whole thing was a plan devised by his partner, Max. Max never went to prison. Dad kept him out of the police investigation. On his way to jail, Dad said he’d thrown the money in the river, but Max thinks he hid it away somewhere. Max believes Dad is going for the stashed money.”
“How much? Is it worth fifteen years of silence?”
“It’s a hundred thousand dollars.”
“Not a million, but a nice chunk of change.”
“All these years Max has stayed close to my mom, passing himself off as my uncle. She is an only child with no close family so there wasn’t anyone around to question it. When Dad was released, Max saw his chances slipping away to get his hands on the money. I guess he figured the easiest way to force Dad to hand it over was to threaten us.” Pilar could not hold back a sigh. “He’s wrong. If my dad cared about us, he never would have done what he did in the first place.” She cleared her throat. “Max caused a head-on collision. The front end of my car was crushed. I was disfigured, and I had plastic surgery to repair my face.”
She heard his sharp intake of breath.
She blinked back tears.
“Why?” he half whispered. “Why, didn’t you tell me any of this, Pilar?”
The question cut like a knife straight into her. She took a steadying breath. “I’d left, Austin. I made my choice, and I knew what the cost would be.”
His fingers whitened on the steering wheel as he stared at the road unrolling before them.
“Anyway, that’s three questions,” she said with a sniff. “I don’t expect your help now. A ride to the first rest stop is what we agreed to, nothing more.”
“Come on, Pilar. That’s not the only reason you got in the truck,” he said. “I don’t know you anymore, but there are some things I can still read. You have something to say.”
She blinked hard. “I... I thought I might not get the chance again, that maybe God was allowing me this one opportunity. I want you to know I’m sorry...for leaving the way I did.”
“Sorry?” he repeated. “Sorry is what you say when you break somebody’s coffee cup or lose your temper. Doesn’t seem like enough for betraying someone and humiliating them in front of everyone they love.”
Her throat closed up and she could not answer. They turned onto the main road, which would take them to the freeway. She could see his jaw working, as he fought through all of the questions her revelations had raised, and the hurt that had come with it. Her lame apology had not helped one iota. It had been a mistake to offer it, but maybe she could at least get some information that might help her mother.
“Now it’s my turn for questions,” she said, trying for a light tone.
He shook his head. “I don’t see why you get to ask anything.”
Hard. Bitter. So unlike the Austin she’d known, at least the man she’d known before his climbing accident. “You’re right, but I’m asking anyway. How do people arrange adoptions through Sunshine? Are they all Death Valley dogs?” She wasn’t sure he would answer, but he finally blew out a breath.
“The animals are from Death Valley and the surrounding areas. Chunk was on our website because he came into the Furnace Falls shelter. The fake adoptee saw him online, no doubt, and called to arrange it. The admin who works in the office assigned it to me because I’m the closest volunteer to the shelter where he was kept after he landed there. I’m the only volunteer in the valley who does long-distance deliveries as a matter of fact.”
“Is your picture and name on the website?”
He nodded. “And the information about my delivery duties.”
“May I look at the paperwork for the dog?”
He reached under the sun visor and gave her the papers.
“C. Bolt.” She gulped in a breath. “I thought it was some sort of weird coincidence when you first asked.”
“That name means something to you, I take it.”
“Bolt was my father’s college nickname. His first name is Cyrus. I wonder how in the world he got my cell phone number.” Her nerves fluttered as she scanned the tiny print in the comments section. “There’s a typed note at the bottom in the space where the person filling out the form online can add a message. It says ‘Artist’s Palette’ and a date, Monday, five days from now.”
“That didn’t make sense to me when I read it so I figured it must be a mistake. Why Artist’s Palette?” Austin frowned. They’d visited the spectacular cliff formation together, admiring the array of reds, pinks, greens and yellows caused by the oxidation of metals in the rocks. “And you’re supposed to meet whoever sent this there?”
“I think so.” She squinted as she read the final words aloud. “‘Alone, for Birdie.’” Tears crowded her eyes and her head swam. She closed her eyes and felt Austin’s tentative touch on her fingers.
“Deep breath.” His voice was not tender but concerned. She was too, gravely.
“I’m supposed to meet him there alone. For my mother’s sake. Even though her name is Bernadette, my dad called her Birdie.”
“How do you know you can trust your father?”
“I don’t. He’s a criminal whom I thought was dead until six months ago. When I was ten, he went on a trip and didn’t come back. My mom said he’d died of a heart attack. My life changed after that. We moved from place to place, and it was obvious we never had enough money. My mother left early yesterday evening to pick up some craft items. I haven’t heard a word from her since. I’m... I’m scared something happened to her. Maybe Max has her.”
“You should be talking to the police.”
“I called them, but they won’t do anything until she’s been missing for twenty-four hours.” She fingered the paper. “It says to come alone. I’m afraid if I don’t, she’ll be hurt.”
Austin wiped a bead of water from his cheek. “That’s the kind of thing the police can—”
“Austin, you don’t understand what we’ve been living through,” she snapped. “Max found us, almost killed me. He wants whatever he thinks my father hid. Mom and I talked about asking the police for help, but Max just disappears anytime he wants to.” To her dismay, hot tears began to course down her face. “I’m afraid for my mother. I don’t know what to do or whom to trust.”
Austin pulled onto the freeway, tires splashing up water. “Let’s think it out. Scenario one is your father arranged for this fake pet adoption to get you the message about meeting him. Did he know we were...engaged?”
“My mother might have told him, I guess. I don’t know how much contact she had with my father over the years.”
“So maybe it was intentional that he arranged this adoption. He knew I would be the one to come. Or it’s possible it was coincidence.”
After a shaky breath, she swallowed down her tears. “And he didn’t want to call my cell phone. Mom said we had to be careful not to talk about Dad in the apartment in case Max had planted a bug. My phone went missing after the accident until I found it in the backyard. I thought I’d dropped it, but I wonder if it was Max and he bugged my phone. Maybe Dad arranged this so you would come and deliver the dog to me in person and I’d read the note.” She rubbed her forehead. “This is beginning to sound like some sort of spy movie.”
Austin huffed. “Why would your dad take the risk? Surely he’d know a lot of things could have gone wrong.”
She shrugged helplessly. “I have no idea. At the least, he knew I would ask to see the paperwork and would read his message. And scenario two is...this is all a trap arranged by Max. But why try to break into my apartment then?” And where is my mother?
She stared at her cell phone. She’d turned it off to preserve the battery. Her father, or whoever had sent the fake paperwork, knew her cell number, but had not called it, instead choosing the elaborate subterfuge. Was there really a tracker on her phone? The wisest choice seemed to be to get rid of it, but what if her mother called or texted?
“Here,” Austin said, as if reading her mind. “Use my phone to text your mother. Tell her to reach you via this number until further notice. Be vague about your location. We’ll get you a new phone and I’ll message if she makes contact.”
Gratefully she accepted his phone and sent a text.
Worried. Where are you? Reach me on this phone. Pilar
By the time she’d finished, Austin had pulled off the freeway into a gas station behind a big truck. The driver was inside at the cash register. He pointed to the big mound of garbage bags in the back. “There’s a dump not far from here, which is probably where he’s headed. Only one way to be certain you aren’t being tracked and maybe buy yourself some time.”
She hesitated.
“If there is a tracker, it’s going to report your location the second you power it on again.”
She got out. With fingers gone ice cold, she turned on the phone and tossed it into the back of the truck before she hopped back into Austin’s car. Sure enough, in a matter of moments, the truck driver climbed in, pulled out of the gas station, headed for the freeway on-ramp in the opposite direction. If she was being tracked, her pursuer would hopefully wind up at the dump. It wouldn’t throw him off forever, though.
“What is your father hoping to get by arranging this secret meeting?” He held up a palm. “I know. I’ve exceeded my question allotment.”
“Doesn’t matter,” she said gloomily. “I can’t answer anyway. Dad is a stranger to me. I don’t know how to separate truth from lies anymore.” She shouldered her backpack. “I’ll get out here. Thanks for your help.”
He shook his head. “No way.”
“Our agreement...”
“I’m changing the terms of our agreement,” he said. “I can’t leave you at a gas station in the middle of nowhere. Besides, it will be best for you to stay until we hear from your mom, since she might call at any time. And anyway, if you’re stubbornly insisting on going to that meeting at Artist’s Palette, you sure aren’t going alone.”
She saw the determined set of his jaw and wasn’t sure whether to be offended or touched at his pronouncement. “You don’t owe me anything, Austin.”
“No,” he said flatly, “I don’t. And this isn’t because you are Pilar my ex-fiancée.” He put a strong emphasis on the ex. “I wouldn’t let anyone walk into an unknown situation without backup, even my worst enemy. I was taught better.”
She knew he classified her right up there as his worst enemy. Situation reversed, he probably would have run too. What did he know of her fear, from his lofty vantage point? Irritation flashed through her. “I had reasons for what I did,” she said. “And I don’t want your help.” All she’d wanted to do was assuage her guilt with an apology.
He shrugged. “We’ve already established it would be a long journey in the rain.”
“I’m not afraid of walking or rain.” She reached for the handle.
“Pilar...” He trailed off into a weary sigh. “How about I drive you to Furnace Falls since it seems we’re both going that way? At least have the good sense to accept a ride.”
Driving rain crackled against the window. If she didn’t go with him, she’d have to figure out how to get to Death Valley without a car or cell phone. And what if her mother messaged?
But if she did go with him...
Could she stand sitting next to the man she thought she’d loved with all her heart until it came to a choice between her family and her fiancé?
A long journey?
It might be the longest of her life.