“What is it?” Riley didn’t understand why Matthew acted as though he’d seen a ghost ship cross his path. She looked in the direction that had caught his attention. Two men were getting in a Range Rover across the street.
“That tall one worked for my father.” Matthew’s stare fixed on him. “We can’t go in the FBI office. They’ll see us.”
Riley stared at the man he’d pointed out, and recognition struck her. The man’s name was Syman. He had been there when she’d killed Petruso. Tony had wounded him, but he’d somehow escaped during the chaos of the shoot-out. “You’re right! He should be behind bars.”
She frantically motioned for the kids to get back in the truck. They looked at each other, confused by the sudden change of plans, then scrambled inside the pickup’s cab.
“I had a feeling about that harbormaster.” Riley chided herself for not being more careful as she’d spoken on the phone. “But I didn’t say anything about stopping here.”
“Maybe they figured this was a logical place an ex-FBI agent would go for help. It’s like they’ve been waiting for us to show up and plan to—” His eyes trailed to Aleksa and Jeremiah listening to his every word. He didn’t finish his thought.
“You’re right.” Riley knew what he meant. She nervously bit at her bottom lip. What should they do next?
Matthew’s attention returned to the black Range Rover the men had gotten in. He stared like a long-forgotten memory had caught him.
“We can’t stay here in a stolen”—she glanced at Jeremiah—“vehicle. We’re bound to attract attention.”
Aleksa, sitting next to Riley, squirmed in her seat as though preparing for Jeremiah’s reaction. And he didn’t disappoint.
“Geez.” He hit the dashboard. “If I hadn’t stolen the truck, we’d still be in the harbor.” He huffed, and his cheeks turned bright red.
Riley knew he was right, and she really hadn’t meant to argue again, but there was right, and there was wrong, and now they were up to their eyeballs in wrong.
Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.
Matthew leaned down and tapped the wires together. The truck came to life, and he pumped the gas. He must have become a quick study after watching Jeremiah. “No more bickering.” He pulled out into traffic, driving away from the FBI office and the Range Rover.
“Where are you taking us?” Riley didn’t like that he’d made a decision without talking it over. “We’re partners. We’re supposed to discuss things, map out a plan, and then, once agreed, move forward.” That’s how she and Tony had always done it.
“We couldn’t very well sit in front of the FBI office and chat. It was only a matter of time before Symon would spot us.” Matthew gave her a sideways glance that said he wasn’t her partner. And yet he was.
“So you’re going to aimlessly drive around?” She glanced at the road sign of the intersection they passed. “Wait a minute. Are you heading to the freeway?”
“Have a better idea?”
“No.” She hated that she didn’t. “But since we couldn’t get the help we needed at the Evergreen office, our next stop should be Dena’s, which is nearly a thousand miles away. We can’t risk going that far in this truck. The owner has probably reported it, and every highway patrol officer will be watching for us. There’s not a lot of late-model Ford pickups on the road.”
Matthew pulled up to another intersection.
Riley noticed a black Range Rover stop beside them. She elbowed Matthew.
“What?” He looked at her.
Not wanting to worry the kids or make them react in a strange way that would draw attention, she nodded toward the vehicle.
Matthew leaned forward, checking the direction she’d indicated. “Crud! That’s Syman, and he looked straight at me.” He didn’t wait for the light to turn green; he stepped on the gas and hung a left. A car squealed to a stop, narrowly missing them. “They’re still coming!” he said as he weaved in and out of traffic.
The Range Rover stuck on their tail.
“What is it?” Aleksa’s stared at her father, terror filling her eyes.
“Those men.” Riley took her hand. “They’re right behind us.”
The road sign pointing to the freeway entrance loomed ahead. Matthew drove three lanes over, swerving in front of several other cars and making it onto the ramp. “Are they still there?”
With all four of them squished on the truck’s bench seat, it was difficult for Riley to turn and see. Jeremiah checked the mirror on the passenger side. “Yeah.”
Stomping on the gas, Matthew merged into traffic and quickly maneuvered to the far-left lane.
Aleksa hid her face in her hands.
“Hang tight,” Riley told her in hushed tones while she watched Matthew tailgate the car in front of them. A car to the right made it impossible to switch lanes.
“They’re still behind you,” Jeremiah reported.
A green-and-white freeway sign showed that the highway would soon split, the left lane heading east to I-90.
Matthew waited till the last possible moment, then swerved into the middle lane, not taking the exit. “Jeremiah, I can’t see them in the rearview mirror. Are they still following?”
“Yes! Geez, they almost made an RV crash into the guardrail.”
Matthew veered in front of a minivan and made the driver move out of the way.
Riley managed to turn her head and look through the rear window. Just then, the Range Rover gained on them and began pulling up along the driver’s side. “Matthew, he’s coming up on you.”
“That’s what I wanted.” He steered the Ford to the left, sideswiping them. The sound of metal crunching metal and squealing tires ricocheted in the truck’s cab. Matthew didn’t stop but floored the gas pedal, charging ahead.
Riley craned her neck, trying to find the black SUV, but she couldn’t see it. “I think you did it.”
“No, he didn’t,” Jeremiah contradicted her. “They’re coming up on the right.”
The Ford’s speedometer needle hit its max as they passed ninety miles per hour. Aleksa quivered next to Riley.
A logging semi loomed straight in front of them. Matthew swerved in front of the Range Rover, making them brake to allow him in.
“You’re passing the semi on the right?” Riley pressed her foot against the floorboard like she could stop them.
“What’s that sign ahead?” Matthew clung to the steering wheel with white-knuckled hands.
“It says I-4 is ahead.” Riley watched as they inched past the huge, rough-barked logs that must have been thirty feet long. Aleksa clamped her eyes shut. Riley took hold of the young woman’s hand and looked at Jeremiah, whose mouth gaped open.
“We’re taking it.” Matthew had now passed the cab of the logging truck.
“They’re gaining on our bumper,” Jeremiah said.
“Not for long. Hang on!” Matthew swung in front of the logging truck, crossing to the exit for I-4. The semi laid on his horn. The massive truck could have easily rolled over top of them, but by some miracle, it missed them and continued on its way.
“You did it!” Jeremiah shot up in his seat, craning his head to see in back of them. “They’re stuck on the other freeway.”
Matthew’s rigid shoulders seemed to relax as he merged with the traffic, heading east. Riley didn’t know how this man who professed to be an artist had such savvy driving skills. “I’m impressed.”
“I have a thing for driving cars.” He shrugged as he kept focused on the traffic.
Aleksa had opened her eyes and now stared at her father as though to reprimand him for scaring the living daylights out of her.
“Sorry, kitten.” He shrugged. “It couldn’t be helped.”
“It’s okay, Dad.” Her face softened before she turned her attention out the windows. “Are you heading to Enumclaw?”
“What? Where’s Enumclaw?” Riley had never heard of the place.
Matthew nodded. “Southeast of here. We need to ditch this truck, and I have a friend there.”
Aleksa’s bright blue eyes beamed at her father with great hope. Gone was the frightened girl, replaced with an optimistic teenager who seemed to want to focus on something other than being chased by bad guys.
“And we can get something to eat,” Matthew added as he glanced at Jeremiah for a second.
“I’d love a hamburger. I’m starved.” Jeremiah’s mood brightened at the mention of food.
How could he even think about eating? Riley’s stomach was still lodged in her throat by their near miss with the logging semi.
“Yep. That’s what Lucky’s famous for.” Matthew glanced at his daughter and smiled. His look trailed to Riley, then his expression sobered.
“Hamburgers?” Riley questioned. “Really? We don’t have time to stop and eat.” She couldn’t believe he’d take such a risk.
“We need to regroup.” Matthew leaned his shoulder into hers. “Come on; you know Snickers bars and licorice aren’t enough. We’ll get the burgers to go.”
Then, as if to bypass her words, her stomach growled, siding with Matthew.
Disappointed by her body’s betrayal, she had no comeback. Why not? So far, they’d had nothing but misfortune. Stopping there might give them a chance to catch their breath.
* * *
As Matthew jockeyed with freeway drivers to take the Enumclaw exit, he wondered how happy his old Salish Native American friend would be to see him once he learned what had happened. Plus, Matthew worried he might place his friend in danger like he had Floyd. That had turned out to be deadly.
However, knowing Lucky, he’d be upset if Matthew didn’t ask for his help. Lucky wasn’t Floyd. He wasn’t elderly, and he could make even a linebacker on the Seattle Seahawks take cover. Besides, they were out of options. Syman would be stuck on the I-5 for a while, and chances of his finding them at Lucky’s were slim.
Lucky had been another college roommate of Matthew’s, though his friend had never graduated. He’d dropped out, saying academia wasn’t his thing and he’d rather work for himself, so he’d returned to his hometown.
Matthew drove a good ten miles through lush green forest. Lucky’s burger joint wasn’t in the main part of town but down a narrow country road that led to Mount Rainier. The imposing snowcapped mountain seemed to stand as a guardian over his friend’s rustic restaurant and bachelor apartment.
As Matthew steered around a bend in the road, Lucky’s restaurant came into view. Though the structure stood two stories tall, it still looked like a shack. Matthew slowly drove past the packed parking lot out front and pulled in back where a barn-type garage stood. The scent of garlic filled the air, making him even hungrier. He parked by the overflowing trash cans and disconnected the wires to shut off the engine.
They sat in the truck for a moment, everyone quiet.
“I’ll go in and talk with Lucky. You guys wait here.” Matthew got out and shut the door behind him. He half expected Riley to object, but she didn’t. In fact, she’d hardly said two words since leaving the freeway. He knew she didn’t like stopping, but it wasn’t like they had other options. They had to find some other mode of transportation. He worried that in his absence an argument might break out between Riley and her son. But Aleksa was there. She’d keep the peace between them. At least he hoped she would.
* * *
Riley rubbed the ache in her chest. She knew she had to relax. She didn’t want to pop another pill in front of the kids. She’d never forget the looks on their faces as she’d come to in the cabin of the boat with Jeremiah and Aleksa standing over her. They’d seen her take her nitro. She’d had no other choice. Then they’d watched her as though afraid she’d die any second. She couldn’t put them through that again. She didn’t want them to worry. So she leaned back against the headrest, took several deep breaths, and stared at Mount Rainier. Instead of stewing over things she could do nothing about, she decided to appreciate the sight before her. “That’s beautiful.”
Aleksa followed her gaze and nodded.
Jeremiah ignored them.
Wanting to make conversation with Aleksa and hoping it would help mellow her son’s ire, Riley asked, “What does Enumclaw mean, anyway?”
“Dad told me it means ‘thundering noise.’ Two Native American brothers were named Enumclaw and Kapponis. Their father turned them into thunder and lightning. But I also heard it means ‘place of evil spirits.’”
Riley couldn’t help it—she shuddered like death had crossed her path. “Your father told you that?”
“Well, about the two brothers, he did. The last part Lucky told me. Said his mother named him Lucky to ward off those evil spirits.”
Riley didn’t know what to think.
Jeremiah rolled his eyes and leaned against the passenger door.
“Of course, none of that is true.” Aleksa blinked innocently at him. “But it got you thinking about something else, didn’t it?”
“You mean other than people trying to kill us and my mother nagging me?” Jeremiah shot Riley a challenging look.
She would not take the bait. No. She. Was. The. Parent. She had to maintain control and not let him see that his lack of respect ate at her.
Aleksa playfully nudged him. “Your mother saved your life at the lodge. That man would have killed you. Would have killed me if your mother hadn’t . . .” Tears suddenly filled the teen’s pretty blue eyes, and her bottom lip trembled.
Jeremiah melted and slid his arm around her shoulders. “I know.” Looking at his mother, his expression was at first filled with gratitude, but it quickly clouded with a mixture of regret and . . . repulsion? For her? Or for the fact that she’d killed someone? His long-standing wall of resentment toward her soon went up.
If he’d just hold on a little longer, just wait until they were free from danger, they could address the issues between them.
Matthew and a huge, menacing-looking Native American man, who wore a sweaty T-shirt and jeans under a stained apron, came out the back door, heading for the truck. The man’s pie-shaped face split into a smile as he waved to Aleksa.
“That’s Lucky.” Aleksa motioned for Jeremiah to get out so she could go to her friend.
Aleksa dashed to the man, who enveloped her in his large arms. Riley got out, too, and walked over to greet him.
“Lucky, this is Riley Scott.” Matthew nodded toward her as she joined them. “And her son, Jeremiah.”
Empathy filled Lucky’s dark-brown eyes. “Sounds like you folks have been in one heck of a dogfight. Come on up to my place. Don’t have much, but what I have is yours. Relax if you can while I fix you some grub for the road.”
Everyone followed the burly man up the back stairs to his apartment, with Riley bringing up the rear, a position she preferred. She scanned the area, on the watch for anything out of the ordinary, anything that didn’t belong, but all seemed normal. She hoped it would stay that way.
* * *
Lucky’s one-room apartment had a cramped kitchen in one corner; a leather couch and small TV in the other corner; and in between stood a small dinette, the chairs covered with cracked Naugahyde. An armchair stood beside an unmade twin bed next to the bathroom door. The portrait of an elderly Native American woman above the chair drew Riley’s gaze. Her long gray tresses, braided with beads and feathers, hung down a white deerskin ceremonial dress as she reached up to an angry sky, like she had faith the clouds would soon part.
Aleksa walked past Riley to use the restroom first. Jeremiah zoned in on a TV program. Riley took this opportunity to speak with Matthew about what they should do next. They needed to be on the same page. “We’ve got to somehow get from here to Dena’s in Gilmore, Idaho.”
“Maybe we could ride a bus?” He said it, but he shrugged like he didn’t care for the idea.
“Buses don’t go to Gilmore.”
“Where is this town anyway?”
“It’s in the central-eastern part of the state about a hundred or so miles northwest of Idaho Falls. Gilmore is really more or less a ghost town now, though people have been buying ‘bug-out’ property there. That’s what Dena did. Not a lot of people around, so it’s a good place to hide the kids. Dena did a great job keeping Jeremiah safe for two years.” She really wasn’t trying to sell her friend to Matthew, but she did want to ease his mind.
“My only concern is it seems out in the middle of nowhere. If they need help, the police are a long way off.”
“Dena will keep them safe. Her ex-husband, Martin Field, made her life a living hell, beating her and using her as a front while he and his Aryan nation cronies waged terrorist wars against the government. To save herself and her twelve-year-old son, Dena became an informant. Her husband tried to kidnap her son. In a shoot-out, her son died from a stray bullet and her husband got away. Broke my heart to see her suffer so. I was assigned to keep Dena safe until her husband’s capture, which took a few months. In that time, I got to know her. When Martin was arrested and his organization disbanded, Dena was free to divorce him and make a new life. When my James was murdered and I needed to hide Jeremiah, I knew Dena would keep him safe. She did, and she’ll do it again. She protects people now.” Riley glanced at Jeremiah, who didn’t have a clue they were talking about him.
“Good to know, especially since I have little choice in the matter of whether to leave her or not. After what we’ve been through, I don’t want my daughter exposed to my half-brother. And about transportation, maybe Lucky will know of someone willing to sell us a used car or something.” Dark circles underscored Matthew’s bloodshot eyes. He appeared as though he’d been through the worst night of his life, which was probably close to the truth.
Riley knew she looked just as bad. “Then you agree that’s where we’re heading as soon as we can get our hands on another car?” She hoped he wouldn’t argue. She was tired of arguing. Tired of a lot of things.
The door to the bathroom opened, and Jeremiah met Aleksa coming out as he went in. She made her way to the TV. After what they’d been through, Riley couldn’t blame the kids for wanting to zone out with a mindless game show.
Matthew stood and stretched, but before leaving Riley, he leaned toward her. “Sounds like a good plan.” He went to sit with his daughter.
Riley saw a phone on the counter. This was a good opportunity to call Dena. She dialed her number. It rang and rang. Finally, Dena picked up. “Yeah.”
“Dena?”
“Riley? Is that you? What’s up?”
She quickly told her what had happened and asked, “Would you mind keeping the kids safe while Matthew and I go to LA and try to get this solved?”
“Wouldn’t mind one bit. Make sure and watch your six,” which was Dena’s way of saying watch her back. She ended the call by giving Riley directions to her place, even though Riley had been there several times.
Riley rose and checked out the front windows at the parking lot below. A couple was kissing next to a parked car. And a black SUV, much like the one that had been chasing them, pulled up and stopped. Riley felt her world tilt.
Fear rippled her skin. She took hold of the tattered curtain, trying to remain calm and not freak out as she held her breath, waiting for the driver to leave the car. A kid not more than eighteen got out and gave a wide berth to the kissing couple as he headed inside. She breathed a sigh of relief and stood at the window awhile longer until she heard Jeremiah leave the bathroom. Now she could take her turn.
Riley hoped Lucky would come soon so they could find a mode of transportation. After the brief scare of seeing a car like Syman’s, she was even more antsy to get on the road. They’d spent too much time here. As she left the bathroom, Matthew went in.
Riley nervously peered out the front window at the parking lot again. This time, fewer cars were there. She moved to the back window to check as well. Nothing new. All seemed quiet. Turning away from the window, she looked at the portrait on the wall.
What mesmerized her about the painting was the old woman’s gnarled hands. Though lined and spotted with age, they were surprisingly beautiful. One could imagine a lifetime of service and love performed by the woman who prayed so passionately.
Lucky entered carrying a large grocery bag and a carrier of four soft drinks, which he set on the small dinette. The flavorful scent of hot fries, garlic, and onions trailed him. “This should tide you over. I’ve packed four Lucky Burgers, tons of fries, and fry sauce. And this drink is a Dr. Pepper, Matthew’s favorite.” He looked to Aleksa, who smiled brightly at him as if fry sauce and Dr. Pepper for her father made everything better. Aleksa and Jeremiah migrated to the bag, a hungry gleam in their eyes.
“Matthew said we’d eat on the road,” Riley reminded them. If they started chowing down now, it would take more time they didn’t have. But it could take a while to find a vehicle to use. “Okay, a few fries won’t hurt.”
Aleksa dug out the fry sauce while Jeremiah grabbed some fries. The two kids moseyed back to their spots on the couch.
Lucky pointed at the picture as he crossed the room to Riley. “That’s my mother. She passed ten years ago. Matthew painted it for me.” Looking up at the portrait, his gaze filled with admiration.
“She must have been a great lady.” Riley smoothed away a lock of hair that had fallen in her face.
“Oh, yeah. We didn’t always get along. She hated that I dropped out of college but loved me enough to leave me her place and all her money, which turned out to only be $1,000. But it was enough to start my burger business. She also taught me life is like a snake.”
“A snake?” She didn’t know if she’d heard him correctly.
“Yeah. We shed our skins several times during our life journey. Each new cycle opens to new adventures, new beginnings. Some good. Some bad.” He studied Riley’s face, making her self-conscious. He continued. “Ohhh, you’re in a bad cycle; have been for a while.”
Matthew had probably told the man what they’d recently been through, but it struck a bad chord with her, reminding her that her life had been a train wreck. How dare this man be so flippant? He knew nothing about her pain or sorrow. She rolled her eyes. “Wow. You must be clairvoyant.”
She moved to the dinette, needing some space. Her words had come out a little too edgy. She wondered if Matthew had shared with him that she’d killed Petruso or that Petruso had killed her husband. But what would it matter? Hearing it and living it were two very different things. She felt a little guilty for her cruel words. Coming here had put this man’s life in danger, and his willingness to help them after learning what had happened made her feel lower than sludge. Dealing with her guilt, another thought came to her. Is this how I act toward Jeremiah? The notion haunted her. She turned around to apologize to Lucky.
He had stayed beneath his mother’s portrait but stared at Riley with compassion and understanding she didn’t deserve. “Sorry,” she uttered.
He shrugged like he’d already forgiven her. “It’s okay. Sk’wuy always told me to look past the whirlpool of words and see a person’s torment.” He slowly ambled to her.
Riley wanted him to go away. She wanted Matthew to come out of that stupid bathroom so they could leave. She didn’t want to hear this man’s philosophy on life, or snakes, or his sk’wuy or whatever he called his mother. This Lucky guy had no idea what she and her son had been through in the last few years or the horrors of this day. He couldn’t possibly know her torment.
She could tell him things she’d seen and done that would make his “whirlpool of words” spin like flying saucers. And what was that rubbish about looking past? Riley could not look past seeing her husband shot to death, couldn’t look past pulling the trigger that ended life. She wanted to tear into this man with a load of colorful verbiage that would curl his ear hairs, but she bit her tongue. She could not repay Lucky’s kindness with more of her sour temper no matter how much she wanted to vent.
Sour temper. She glanced at Jeremiah on the couch. Her son, who looked so much like his father with his tousled brown hair and long-lashed eyes, had taken the brunt of her sour temper. Remorse landed on her with all its guilty weight.
The bathroom door finally opened, and Matthew came out. He glanced between Riley and Lucky as if realizing he’d stumbled into an uncomfortable situation. He wisely decided to ignore it. “Hey, Lucky. Thanks for the food.”
Lucky pulled car keys from his pocket and held them out.
“What’s this?” Matthew took them.
“Mom’s old ’65 Chevy Caprice is in the garage out back. You’ve been dying to get behind the wheel for years. Now’s your chance. No one will be looking for you in it. It’s licensed and registered. Runs great as long as you don’t push it. I take it to car shows, so it’s in prime condition.”
“We can’t use your mother’s car.” Matthew tried to return the keys.
“Yes, you can. And you will. I’ll move the truck where the authorities can find it and make sure to wipe it free of prints. When you get everything sorted out and the law isn’t after you, you can square things with the owners.”
More guilt heaped on Riley for the way she’d treated the man.
Matthew hefted the duffel over his shoulder. Riley grabbed the grocery bag. A whiff of hamburgers and fries met her. Jeremiah and Aleksa left the couch, turning off the TV when they passed it. As everyone exited the small apartment, Riley glanced back at the portrait of the old Native American woman and her praying hands. She wished the wise sk’wuy could offer a prayer for them.