Читать книгу No One To Trust - Melody Carlson - Страница 11

THREE

Leah knew she was pushing Jon too hard, but the image of that cop’s enraged face and the way he’d pulled out his gun seemed to be driving her. It was obvious that if “Officer” Krantz found them again, he would shoot first and ask questions later...if they were even alive later. As it was, she suspected Krantz wanted them both dead. But why?

She glanced at Jon, knowing that he was exhausted and in pain. He probably couldn’t last much longer, but she knew they had to keep moving—had to find safety. Jon had said “home,” but she wasn’t even sure what that meant. Did he live along this beach somewhere? She thought most, if not all, of the homes along here were vacation cabins. In fact, she’d been warned by several people that this desolate part of the beach wasn’t a safe place for a lone runner during the “off-season.” Too bad she hadn’t listened.

Jon’s pace slowed and then he stopped completely. Bending over and clasping his sides, he panted loudly, trying to catch his breath.

“Are you okay?” she asked breathlessly. “Was the pace too much?”

“No,” he gasped. “Need speed.”

“I know.” She peered through the fog, spotting some thin places where they could be seen and shot at. The sun was going down but not quickly enough to hide them in the darkness.

Still hunched over, Jon nodded toward shore. “Turn here.”

“Let’s go.” She linked his arm again, tugging him into the creek.

Jon stumbled a couple of times, but she managed to keep him on his feet. And it wasn’t long before they were across the stretch of beach. From there Jon led them alongside the bluff until he finally stopped at what appeared to be some steep stone steps, carved right into the bluff. “This way,” he puffed.

Still cradling Ralph in her arms, she let Jon lead the way up the steps, giving him nudges with her shoulder when his footsteps slowed. She knew he was struggling. He’d lost blood and was dehydrated. Even though the gunshot wound didn’t look too serious, it had to be hurting. And if it didn’t get cleaned out, infection could set in.

Through the fog, a large dark shape emerged before them on top of the bluff. It appeared to be a house and as they got closer, she saw that it was made of dark gray stone, similar to the rocky cliff it sat upon. Relief washed through her as Jon led them through an overgrown hedge and across a mossy patio to a back door. He dug in the pocket of his cargo shorts, producing a key. Before long, he’d unlocked the door and led her inside to an enclosed porch that was also a laundry room. “Must lock up,” he said between breaths. “No lights.”

Still panting, Jon locked the porch door, then quickly punched some numbers into a keypad that must’ve been linked to a security system. That was somewhat reassuring. He led them into what appeared to be a kitchen, locking that door, as well. Only illuminated by the last rays of dimming gray light, the old-fashioned room looked slightly eerie—almost like a scene from an old horror movie. Leah suddenly wondered what she was doing here—with a perfect stranger—or if she was even safe. After all, she didn’t even know this man. Not really. Still, it was better than being out there with the crazy cop imposter.

Leah’s mind attempted to replay the mad race up and down the beach, the gunshots, being stopped by the cop. It all felt surreal now. The fact that a “cop” wanted them dead was mind-boggling. In fact, none of this made any sense. How had she gotten herself into such a mess? But somehow, holding the warm little dog in her arms and seeing Jon’s stressed but handsome face peering curiously at her brought a sense of reassurance to her.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I kind of feel like I’m in shock.”

“Me, too.” Jon was still breathing heavily as he reached for Ralph. “Thanks. For helping with him.”

“We need to hydrate,” she told him.

He retrieved a couple of water bottles from a case sitting on the counter, handing her one. As she opened it, Jon filled a bowl with water, setting it on the floor for Ralph to lap. Then he took a long swig from the water bottle.

“You should probably have something besides just straight water to hydrate.” She glanced around the small kitchen. Her eyes had adjusted to the lack of light and she could take in the surroundings. Old-fashioned cabinets, a small kitchen table, a gas stove with pots hanging above it. “Your electrolytes are probably low. Do you have some juice or soda or something?”

“Here.” Jon handed her a beach towel. “Hold that up while I open the fridge—to block the light from showing—just in case anyone’s around to see it.” She held up her “screen” as he opened the fridge. He quickly snagged a bottle of orange juice and a couple of sodas, then closed the door. “There.” He handed her a can of soda.

“We need to cleanse your wound,” she said after she nearly drained her water bottle. “And Ralph’s, too. Do you have any first-aid supplies here? And is there a place where we can turn on more lights so that I can examine the wounds?”

Jon pointed at the window above the sink. “Light will leak through those shutters.” He carried Ralph toward a dark hallway. “But we can black out the bathroom window. And there’s a first-aid kit in there.”

As Leah followed him, she noticed lights flashing in another part of the house. “Jon,” she whispered urgently, tugging on his shirt. “Look!”

As he turned around, she motioned for him to bend down low, pointing to a window in the front of the house where the light had flashed through. “It looked like some sort of searchlight,” she whispered.

“Here.” He slipped Ralph into her arms. “Keep him quiet. And go down the hallway. First door to your right is the basement. Go lock the door, and muzzle him while I investigate.”

* * *

Staying low, Jon crept into the front room in time to spot a police cruiser slowly driving by, flashing a searchlight all around the yard and finally moving on to do the same to the next cabin. This wasn’t the unmarked car that Krantz had been driving, but a well-marked cruiser that was obviously looking for someone. Not good news, since it seemed to suggest that Krantz might really have police connections after all.

Jon watched as the cruiser slowly made its way to the next cabin, once again sweeping it with a bright beam of light, shining it up and down and all around with dogged determination. How long would it take them to figure out that he and Leah were holed up here? And what then?

Staying low, Jon made his way to the basement door, quietly tapping on it, whispering that it was him and waiting to hear the lock clicking. The door opened and, even in the semidarkness, Jon could sense her fear.

“Is he gone?”

Jon just nodded. He wasn’t sure he wanted to tell her about the police cruiser just yet. That would probably just scare her even more. It had certainly shaken him to think that Krantz wasn’t working alone.

“What should we do?” she asked.

“We need a plan.”

“And we need to tend those wounds,” she told him.

He led her to the bathroom, where he hung several towels over the flimsy curtain that covered the small window. But, still not convinced the towels would keep out the light, he got a roll of duct tape, then securely taped all the possible cracks, finally turning on the light above the sink. They both blinked at the brightness of the room, and Ralph actually wagged his tail. Jon grabbed another towel, shoving it against the crack at the bottom of the door. Just in case.

“Poor little guy.” Leah set Ralph in the claw-foot tub. “We need to clean you up.” She turned to Jon. “But I suggest we do you first.” She frowned as she started to scrub out the sink. “I wish we could boil some water.”

“Really?” He frowned. “I thought that was just in movies.”

“Do you have rubbing alcohol?”

“My mom probably does. Dad teases her that she should’ve been a doctor instead of a lawyer.” He opened the large linen closet where his mom stocked all sorts of medical things, including a first-aid kit that he handed to her. Then he started reading the labels from various bottles. “Cough suppressant, aspirin, hydrogen peroxide, milk of magnesia, Neosporin, witch hazel, iodine, rubbing alcohol—”

“Impressive.” She reached for the rubbing alcohol, using it to douse the already cleaned sink, then, plugging the drain, she filled it with warm water, then added a little more rubbing alcohol. “To purify the water,” she explained as she removed some clean washcloths from a nearby shelf. “Why don’t you take a seat on the edge of the tub? Less messy that way.”

Jon petted Ralph as he sat on the edge of the tub, trying not to wince as Leah meticulously cleansed the wound and surrounding area. She applied some iodine around the wound, then Neosporin on the wound.

“It looks pretty clean,” she told him. “From what I can see, it’s not deep enough to harm muscle.” As she pushed a piece of gauze onto the opening, Jon took in a sharp breath. “Sorry,” she said as she pushed another layer of gauze over the first one, securing them with adhesive medical tape. “You could probably use some stitches, but this should hold you for a while.” She looked up at him with a puzzled expression. “I mean, I don’t even know what we’re going to do from here. But this should keep infection at bay.” She stood up straight, reaching for the bottle of disinfecting hand soap again. “And now it’s your turn, Ralph.”

Jon swung his legs around, drying them on a towel, then moving out of the way. He watched with interest as she tended to Ralph, talking gently to him the whole time as she washed the blood off his coat, then finally cleansed and bandaged his wound.

“You’re really good at this.” Jon handed her a clean towel, waiting as she wrapped it around Ralph, gently absorbing the water. “I know my mom will be appreciative that you rescued her dog. Thanks, Leah.”

“I’m the one who should be thanking you.” She stood up straight as Ralph gave a shake to his coat. “If you and Ralph hadn’t shown up when you did—” She visibly shuddered. “Well, I can’t even imagine where I’d be right now. But I’m sure it wouldn’t be good.” Fear washed over her features again. “What if he comes back, Jon? What will we do?”

“Just what we’re doing now? Act like nobody’s home. There’s no reason he should suspect we’re in this particular house. I’ve been a hermit since I got here. And I haven’t seen a single neighbor around. No one knows that I’m here.”

“So you think he’s just checking all the houses along here?”

“That’s my guess.”

She pointed at Ralph. “But what if he comes back? What if he knocks on the door, and Ralph barks and gives us away?”

“He doesn’t normally do that. In fact, that whole thing with Krantz was totally out of character for old Ralph.”

“But he’s been through a lot,” she said. “Maybe he’s not being his normal self.”

“Good point. Being in pain might be a factor.” Jon went to the linen closet again. “My mom sometimes gives Ralph tranquilizers during long car trips. The vet prescribed them to help with Ralph’s anxiety. I gave him one for our trip down here from Portland. Worked like a charm.” He found the bottle and held it up. “Voilà.”

“And good rest helps patients to heal.”

He slipped the bottle of pills into his pocket. “I’ll need to put it into some canned dog food to get it down.” Jon frowned as he remembered the police cruiser. “There’s something I need to tell you.” Realizing she was shivering, he decided to wait. “But first you need some dry, warm clothes to wear. We both do.”

She looked down at her running clothes, then glumly nodded.

“You’re probably about the same size as my mom.” He studied her slender figure as she wrapped the towel around Ralph again, picking him up. “Well, thinner, but I’ll go grab something for you.”

“Better turn off the light before you open the door,” she warned as she sat on the toilet seat lid, cradling Ralph in her lap like an infant. “Just in case.”

“Yeah.” He clicked off the light, then slipped out into the darkness, feeling his way down the hallway to his parents’ room, where despite the drapes he was still reluctant to turn on a light. He fumbled his way over to the closet, wishing he’d thought to grab a flashlight. But, feeling around, he finally located what felt like a set of warm-ups hanging on a hook on the back of the door. His mom’s favorite beach garb—sweatpants and a hoodie sweatshirt. Even if they were a little too big for Leah, they would be clean and warm.

* * *

Leah talked quietly to Ralph as they sat in the pitch-black darkness together. “It’s okay, boy,” she said gently. “You’re going to be okay now.” She knew her words were as much for her as for him, but it was reassuring to feel him starting to relax a little.

But she jumped as the bathroom door opened. “I found something for you,” Jon said as he closed the door, then turned on the light. He held up a velour jogging suit.

“Purple,” she said with raised brows. “Interesting.”

He frowned. “Sorry. It was dark in there. I couldn’t see the color.”

“I’m not complaining.” She smiled. “I’ve just never been a fan of purple.” She reached to touch the soft fabric. “But it does look warm. Thanks!”

“I’ll get this guy some food.” Jon took Ralph from her. “Go ahead and clean up and change. Just douse the light before you come out because I, uh, I noticed the police car still cruising around out there.”

“You mean Krantz’s unmarked car?” she asked with concern.

Jon’s brow creased. “No, it’s a marked car.”

“A marked car? A real police car?”

“Yeah. From the city. According to my parents, they don’t usually patrol out here much. I mean, we’re out of the city limits. But the county doesn’t patrol these parts at all. So I guess they’ve sort of contracted it to the city. But my dad always says it’s kind of a no-man’s-land out here.”

Half of what he said went over her, but the one fact she could hold on to was that a police cruiser was patrolling around, probably looking for them, and it wasn’t Krantz. “What does this mean?” she whispered.

“I’m not sure.” He pointed to the purple warm-ups. “You’re cold. Get those on and I’ll go feed Ralph some food and a tranquilizer. And then we can talk.” He sighed. “And attempt to figure this mess out.”

“It is a mess, isn’t it?”

He just nodded, turning off the light, then opening the door and leaving, closing the door behind him.

Ten minutes later Leah emerged from the bathroom considerably warmer and dryer in Jon’s mother’s sweatpants and hoodie, having freshened up a bit in the sink, rinsed her soiled running clothes and hung them in the bathtub to dry. A real bath sounded lovely. But not here. Not now. Not with Krantz and his “pals” prowling the neighborhood. What was going on anyway?

As she tiptoed through the unlit and quiet kitchen, she noticed lights outside and suddenly, like before, the bright beam was passing through the house’s interior again. Afraid her silhouette might show up, she hit the floor, waiting behind the kitchen doorway as the startling searchlight swept over the premises. Had they figured it out?

When the light beam was pointing away from her, she crawled past the entry to the kitchen. Her heart pounded in fear as she wondered where Jon and Ralph were hiding. Surely they hadn’t left the house. Jon wouldn’t abandon her here by herself. Then, remembering the few minutes she had crouched in pitch-black darkness behind the locked door on the basement stairs, she decided to try it again.

She was just crawling toward the hallway when she heard a loud pounding on the front door. Bracing herself for the sound of Ralph’s barks, she prayed that he’d stay quiet. The pounding persisted, almost as if someone felt certain this was their hideout. “Open up!” a voice yelled as another ray of light swept through the windows in front—flashing over the shadowy furnishings in a way that made her feel like a hunted animal. Like someone’s prey. She remained frozen, cowering by a china hutch, and still a few feet from the hallway and the door to the basement. Praying for invisibility, she felt her heart lurch with each loud bang on the door.

“I know you’re in there!” a loud male voice boomed through the wooden door. Probably Krantz’s. “Come out, or I’m coming in!”

Seeing the light sweeping the other side of the house, Leah made her break through the darkness, quietly scrambling to the safety of the hallway, where she crouched against the wall and waited in fear while Krantz continued pounding and shouting. Certain he was about to kick down the front door, she tried to think—what could she do?

She reached up to try the doorknob to the basement, but it was locked. She suspected Jon and Ralph had gone down there and considered knocking on it, but was afraid it might get Krantz’s attention. And what if Jon opened it with a light on down there? As Krantz continued to pound and shout, she wondered if he really did have a search warrant—and if so, could he legally kick down the door? But then she decided that was just as bogus as him having an arrest warrant for her. But why had he made such a claim? What had been his real intent? And why was he so relentless in his search for them? Well, aside from the fact that they could both accuse him of attempted murder. That was probably more than enough to make him want to silence them.

Just when it felt as if her heart were about to hammer out of her chest, the basement door cracked open and she heard Jon whispering, “Come on. Hurry.”

“Wait,” she whispered back, watching as the flashlight swept through the front room again. Even though it didn’t reach into the hallway, she was too scared to move. Then, as it illuminated the other side, she slipped around the opened door, entered the basement and silently closed and locked the door behind her, then sat on the steps, trying to hold back tears of fear and desperation.

“You’re trembling,” Jon said in a low murmur as he put an arm around her shoulders. “I’m guessing it’s not from being cold.”

“Krantz is out there,” she reported in a hushed tone. “He’s beating on the door—right now. Can’t you hear it?”

“I thought I heard something, but I hoped it was you.”

“Listen,” she whispered frantically. “That’s him pounding—he’s threatening to kick the door down.”

Jon pulled her closer, holding her a little tighter. “There’s nothing we can do about that right now.”

“But what if he does break in?” she asked in a shaky voice. “What if he kicks the door in and enters the house?”

“Then we’ll get him charged with breaking and entering as well as attempted kidnapping, attempted murder, reckless endangerment and several other substantial charges that should get him locked up for a while.” Jon’s voice didn’t sound nearly as brave as his words insinuated. Not that she could blame him. She was so scared she felt sick to her stomach. “We’ve got so much on him that, once he’s convicted, he’ll be put away for a long time, Leah.”

“Not if he kills us first—that’s what he wants to do. I know it.” She let out a little sob. “What is wrong with him? Why is he doing this? Why won’t he just leave us alone?”

“Because we know too much about him.”

“What do we really know?”

“Just that he’s hiding behind his badge while breaking the law. That he’s a bad cop. That’s enough to make him worried. And my suspicion is that we’ve only scratched the surface with him. This guy has a lot to hide. Enough to make it worth his while to get rid of both of us.”

She didn’t doubt that. Even so, it brought no comfort. No hope. As they sat there clinging to each other on the inky staircase, she knew that her only hope—their only hope—was God. She prayed for God’s help—and for the faith to believe He really could deliver them from this madness.