Читать книгу Snowbound Security - Beverly Long - Страница 15

Chapter 5

Rico had no idea how much of what she had said was true. But he was fairly confident that she wasn’t a danger to the child or to him. Neither of those things was proof that she had a legitimate right to have Hannah. That and the possibility that she might be in a very bad situation overrode any hesitation to simply wash his hands of them.

He sat in his SUV, watching over the hotel as she went back upstairs and once again came out with their meager belongings. She put those in her car. Then it was into the office. That took less than five minutes. Then it was back upstairs and when she came out this time, she was carrying Hannah.

He cursed his ankle. He wanted to get out and help, to carry the child. But because of the stairs, the little girl—thank goodness that had been cleared up, he’d thought he could tell the difference—was undoubtedly safer in Laura’s arms. Laura who? He had still not asked for her last name, and she had still not offered.

He started his vehicle and pulled up next to her. “For now, I’ll lead the way to the store. We can get whatever you need as well as stock up on some groceries.”

She nodded and got in the Mustang. They drove, with her staying close on his tail, as if she was afraid she’d lose him. When they got to the small shopping area and he got out, he saw that Hannah had already fallen back asleep. The alternative to waking her up again was for him to stay in the car with her and he knew Laura wasn’t going to go for that. Or Laura could stay while he shopped, but he really had no idea what she wanted or needed.

“We keep interrupting her nap,” he said, as he stood by the car, waiting while Laura got Hannah out of the car seat.

“I know. She’s a good sport about it, though,” she said. “She’s a really great kid.”

He heard something in her voice. Pride. Love. He was more confident than ever that she wasn’t a danger to Hannah.

Keeping up the pretense that his ankle was much weaker than it was, he reached for his crutches. When they went into Bratt’s Mercantile, which was Moreville’s answer to the looming presence of the superstores that were sixty miles away, in that it offered a hodgepodge of items, ranging from clothing to car batteries to sheets to fresh fruit, she reached for a cart.

“I’ll push,” she said. “We’ll try to keep things separated to make it easier to figure out who pays for what at the checkout.” She put Hannah in the up-front portion of the cart.

The selection was broad but not deep, and when she got to the children’s aisle, there were just a few snow pants and coats to choose from. Hannah, however, seemed delighted when Laura picked out size five snow pants and a matching winter coat. Purple with pink trim.

“For me?” the little girl asked, sounding very excited.

“Yes. It’s going to get cold and snow,” Laura said. “You’ll need these.”

“Snow?” repeated Hannah, as if it was something quite magical.

He understood. She’d probably seen snow on television but if she’d been in Tennessee her whole life, she had absolutely no idea of what was coming.

“We’ll build a snowman,” Laura promised. She moved over to the mittens and hats, then to the children’s boots. The cart was starting to fill up. After she added a couple pairs of pants and more socks, she looked up. “That should be good. We can get groceries.”

“What about winter clothes for you?” he asked.

He could see the indecision cross her face. “I suppose,” she said.

And when they got to the women’s aisle, she quickly found some black snow boots and a lined brown barn jacket. Here she checked prices before she put the items in her cart. As if she hadn’t cared so much what she was spending if it was for Hannah, but for herself, she was going to watch her pennies.

Mother bear. Putting her cub first.

She grabbed gloves and a scarf. “Okay,” she said.

“I need a couple things,” he said, pointing toward the men’s aisle. In minutes, he’d picked up insulated underwear and a hooded sweatshirt. All in a size much too small for him but he didn’t think she noticed. She likely had no idea how bitingly cold a Colorado wind could be, and he did not want her to be caught unprepared.

Then it was to the automotive area where he picked up a snow brush and an ice scraper. “You’re going to need these,” he said.

She nodded and put them in the cart. At the end of the aisle was a display of shovels. He put one in the cart. He had several at his cabin but she could take this one with her. Winter was just starting; she’d have plenty of opportunity to use it if she stayed in Colorado.

When they got to the grocery aisle, he turned to her. “I don’t want to have to think about who bought what before I eat it. So I’m happy to get the groceries.”

“I can pay for our share,” she said. It appeared she didn’t want to be in his debt.

“We’ll figure that out later,” he said. “Let’s just get what we need. I want to get home before the snow starts.”

The grocery section of the store was busier, as if other people had the same idea. Bread, eggs and milk were flying off the shelves. He got some of each, as well as some packages of chicken and ground turkey, before heading toward the fruits and vegetables. He took some of most everything before moving on.

They rounded the last corner of the four-aisle section and almost ran into another shopper.

“Rico Metez, is that you?” a woman asked. “And why are you on crutches?”

It took him a minute but he realized it was Maddy Bristol. He’d gone to high school with her. Thin, with long dark hair, she still looked very much the same as she did when she was eighteen. “Maddy, nice to see you. Just a little ankle thing, no big deal.”

“Are you back in the area?” she asked.

“Just visiting,” he said.

She turned to look at Laura. “Hi. I’m Maddy. I went to school with Rico.”

He was just about to jump in when Laura smiled. “Was he a health nut even then?” she asked, waving a hand toward the cart.

“Only if you consider chili fries and chocolate shakes healthy.”

“Basic food groups,” Laura said. “Nice to meet you. Good luck in getting home before the snow starts.” She pushed her cart forward.

“Absolutely.” Maddy pulled a card from her purse and held it out to him. “Keep in touch, all right?”

“Of course.” Rico took the card and followed Laura. Nicely done, he thought. She’d managed to be polite and engaging without giving up any information about herself or Hannah. His partners always teased him about being a smooth talker, but he was pretty sure he might have found his match.

At the checkout, he used a credit card for all the groceries and his items; she paid cash for her and Hannah’s clothes, carefully counting out the one hundred and fifty-nine dollars. So few people paid cash for anything anymore. But if she was on the run from the law, she likely didn’t want anybody to be able to find her by tracing her credit card activity.

And she’d borrowed his cell phone earlier, leading him to believe that she didn’t have one. It was dangerous to be traveling, especially with a child, and not have some way to call for help. But had she dumped that as well because of the risks of being tracked?

They left the store and put everything in his SUV. He got behind the wheel and tossed Maddy’s card onto the console. While they’d been in the store, the wind had changed. It had picked up, was colder, and it looked as if a wall of gray-colored clouds was rolling in from the northwest.

“You grew up around here?” she asked, standing by his still-open door.

“Yes.” He wasn’t inclined to share details. He might be willing to expose himself to whatever threat she posed, but not his parents.

“Colorado seems like a good place to be a kid. Mountains. Lots of sunshine.” She glanced at the sky. “Usually, right?”

“More than three hundred days of sunshine a year,” he said. “Just not today. Do you want anything to eat before we take off?” he asked.

She again looked at the sky. “Hannah and I had something earlier,” she said, sounding nervous. “But if you need to eat...”

“I’m fine,” he said. “This time, you lead and I’ll follow you.”

“Sort of like before,” she said wryly. “Except I didn’t know you were there.”

He liked that she was a little scrappy. “Right. Easier now that I don’t have to stay so far behind you.” He closed his door and rolled his window down a couple inches.

She walked to the Mustang, buckled Hannah into her car seat, then got behind the wheel.

“Do you have a phone in case I need to call you?” he asked before she pulled her door shut.

“Just blink your lights and honk your horn. I’ll pull over.”

If she had a phone, she wasn’t copping to it. And her method wasn’t ideal on mountain roads where the shoulder was oftentimes narrow, but it was unlikely that he was going to have to contact her. “Okay. I’ll see you at the cabin.”

* * *

I’ll see you at the cabin. She was headed back.

It would be a safe place for Hannah. Out of the storm, out of the public eye.

But was it as safe for her? She doubted that. Rico had already beat her at the game once by seeing her reverse her direction and then deciding to follow her. However, him catching up to her and letting her know that the cop wasn’t interested in her car had been a godsend. Otherwise, who knows how long she’d have wandered the streets with Hannah, afraid to go back for her car.

She knew she’d been frightened before. After all, one couldn’t get to the ripe old age of thirty-three and not have had the pants scared off of them at some point. But rounding that corner and seeing that cop looking into her car had been terrifying. Then minutes later, seeing Rico casually leaning next to his car, her only thought had been to run.

She’d cut through yards and alleys, but he’d trumped her again.

She’d wanted to tell him to go to hell but when she’d seen the cop car coming toward them, she’d had to take the chance. Had intended to get in his vehicle, apologize and be done with him. But then he’d offered her refuge at the cabin. I help people. That’s what he’d said.

And how had she repaid that kindness? By continuing to lie to him. By twisting the real life story of one of her patients about being wanted for narcotics theft and telling him that Hannah’s parents were in Asia.

Both whoppers.

But he’d seemed to accept the explanation. Hadn’t even asked too many clarifying questions. And now, as she negotiated the mountain curves, she had plenty of time to stew on that. Was he not naturally curious, or did he easily just accept things at face value? Or was he playing her in some way?

Hannah had fallen asleep again about ten minutes into the drive. She’d wanted to hold on to her new snow pants and after showing Ja-Ja, she now had them wadded up in a makeshift pillow.

Laura felt pretty damn stupid for not having paid more attention to the weather. It was no excuse that in Tennessee, they never really had to worry about big snowstorms. She wasn’t in Tennessee anymore.

Wouldn’t likely be back for a long time. Maybe never. That was sad but not her biggest loss.

She felt the deep ache in her chest that had been there since she’d made her decision, since she’d scooped up Hannah and they’d ran. She was never going to be able to practice as a physical therapist again. To do that, she’d have to use her real name, her real license, and even if she was halfway across the country, the risk was too great.

It had taken her so many years to earn her degree, to find just the right job. And now that was over. She’d thought she was leaving it temporarily when she’d gotten the job at the daycare. Had never dreamed it would end this way.

But maybe, just maybe, even if she couldn’t use her license, she could still provide some private care, maybe for someone who’d been in an accident or had a stroke. For someone who might be more concerned about her ability to help them versus her credentials.

She would work it out. She had to.

She would find a place for them to live, a place where Hannah could go to school, and a place where she could earn a living to support the two of them.

There was no other choice.

It started to snow when she was still twenty minutes from the cabin. Big fluffy flakes. She almost called out to Hannah, to wake up and see the snow. But then realized that the little girl would have plenty of opportunity if Rico was right. It was going to snow for hours, maybe even a full day.

She couldn’t, quite frankly, imagine.

By the time she pulled into the driveway of the cabin, the ground was already covered. She was grateful that they had made the drive in the daylight. A couple times, her back end had slipped just a little on the roads and if that had happened at night, it would have scared her to death.

“Hey, sweetheart,” she said. “Time to wake up.”

The little girl stretched in her seat, opened her eyes. And a big smile lit her face. “Laura, look at the snow,” she said. “Can I play in it?”

“Of course,” Laura said. Behind her, Rico was turning into the lane. He’d kept a safe distance behind her, not hurrying her but not allowing cars between them. She was confident that his SUV had handled better than the Mustang.

He beeped his horn at her and she looked in her rearview mirror. He motioned for her to pull into the detached garage that sat fifty yards away from the house. The big overhead door was already going up. She pulled in and he pulled in next to her.

“Hannah, I’m going to carry you inside so your shoes don’t get wet. Once we get your new snow stuff on, including your boots, you can go outside and play.” She’d learned a great deal about small children in the nine weeks that she’d been working at the daycare. After a nap and usually a small snack, they were raring to go again, and if you didn’t give them something to do, it didn’t usually go well. There’d be pushing and shoving and a few tears. Here, because there weren’t any other kids, there’d probably just be a meltdown.

And Rico might decide that he’d made one big mistake in offering up his home to them.

Speaking of Rico, he was waiting outside the garage, leaning on his crutches, watching her. He had snowflakes in his dark hair and with his mirrored sunglasses, jeans and boots, he looked rugged and very male. But she needed to stop ogling and start doing the heavy lifting.

“I’ll get the sacks,” she said. “That was our deal, that I’d do the things that you shouldn’t be doing. And be careful with your crutches in this snow. If you fall, it won’t be good.”

He opened his mouth, then shut it. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll just wait for Lucky.” The dog was already out, draining his bladder on the roots of a tree in the middle of the yard.

“Let me put Hannah inside first,” she said. “Then I’ll be back for the sacks.”

They all got inside. Laura put Hannah on the couch. “I’m going outside to get the rest of the groceries. Just stay here, right here, where I can see you through the window. When I get back, we’ll put away the groceries and then get you dressed to play outside.”

“I’ll watch her,” Rico said.

She hesitated.

“Really,” Rico said. “I’ve got this.”

* * *

How hard could it be? he thought.

Relatively hard, because Laura was no more out the door before Hannah was off the couch. She grabbed her backpack and trotted back toward the bedroom.

He followed her, wincing slightly. His ankle was sore from the driving. Laura was probably right. He better use his crutches for a while.

By the time he got there, she had the backpack unzipped and was dumping it out onto the bed. There were some clothes, all in grays and dark blues, a few books, colored pencils and construction paper, and a big plastic sack full of trolls. There must have been six or seven of them.

“You like trolls?” he said.

“They’ve never seen snow.”

He heard the front door open, thought that Laura was likely to come charging down the hallway with a shovel in her hand. “I’ve got her,” he called out. “She’s showing me her trolls.”

“Okay,” she yelled back.

“You know what you can do in snow,” he said.

She shook her head.

“You can build a snowman. Or a snow lady. Or a snow kid.”

“A snow family,” she said, proving that she was tracking with the conversation.

“A snow dog,” he said.

She giggled. “A snow cat. With a big long tail. And mittens on his paws.” She clapped her hands together.

She really was a cute kid.

And when Laura came in five minutes later, after bringing everything in and putting away the groceries, he and Hannah were sitting on the floor, drawing said cat.

“It’s a snow cat,” Hannah explained.

“With a tail long enough to wrap around that apple tree?” Laura asked, examining the drawing.

He’d been responsible for the tree. “Longest tail in the world,” explained Rico.

“Of course,” she said. “Hannah, if you want to go outside and play, we probably need to get you dressed. It’s going to get dark in an hour or so and then you won’t be able to go outside.”

Hannah reached for the sack that held her new outside clothes. She yanked everything out and tossed them in Rico’s direction. “Get me dressed,” she said.

He glanced at Laura and could see the indecision cross her face. But then she nodded. Didn’t leave the room, but simply stayed by the doorway.

He held up the snow pants and Hannah stepped into them. Then it was the new coat, the mittens, the hat. He removed the tags as he went. Finally, he put her boots on. She immediately started stomping around the room. “Let’s go,” she said.

“I’ll take you, sweetheart,” Laura said. “Rico has a sore ankle.”

“Did you hurt it?” Hannah asked, her little forehead scrunched in concern.

“Yes,” he said. “You two go outside. I’ll start something for an early dinner.”

Hannah kept up the stomping while Laura got ready. It took her just minutes and then they were out the door. Rico went to the window, the same one he’d stood at just that morning when Laura had driven away. The same one he’d been standing at ten minutes later, when she reversed directions and he’d decided to follow her.

Sometimes things worked out well.

He’d been surprised that she’d agreed to come back to the cabin. He thought it had a great deal to do with the fact that she perceived him to be somewhat of an invalid. Good grief, he hadn’t even been allowed to carry in a sack of groceries. Made him feel a bit emasculated but if it gave her some comfort, then he wasn’t opposed to keeping up the pretense.

There was about an inch of snow on the ground. Not enough to build a good snowman, or even a snow cat, but plenty to lie in and make snow angels. They did a bunch of that and then caught flakes with their tongues and ran around, laughing and giggling.