Читать книгу Valley of Shadows - Shirlee McCoy - Страница 12

Miranda’s heart slammed in her chest as she rounded the car, Hawke’s words echoing in her head. The anger on his face told her just how much he didn’t like losing. Yet, here she was heading around the side of the car with every intention of doing things her way. What was she thinking? He had a gun for crying out loud.

But if he planned on using it, he already would have.

Maybe she should make a break for it, run into the convenience store and ask for help. She doubted Hawke would try to stop her. Unfortunately, the same instincts that told Miranda that Hawke wouldn’t hurt her, told her that she was better off with him than without. She needed answers before she could return home. Without them, she risked putting her brother and sister in harm’s way—and staying with Hawke seemed the only sure way to get those answers.

She pulled open the car door, saw that Hawke had moved into the passenger seat, and did her best to act confident and unperturbed. “Where to?”

“I’ll mark the route on the map. Then we’ll drive straight there. No stops for anything. We’ve already lost enough time. We can’t afford to waste any more.” He met her gaze, his expression unreadable, his anger concealed as he opened the glove compartment and pulled out a pack of highlighters.

“All right. Let’s do it.”

It took less than a minute for Hawke to highlight a yellow path from their location to a small town near a lake. When he finished, he highlighted a second route in blue. “The yellow route is the quickest. The blue uses the most back roads. We’ll try yellow first. If there’s too much police traffic, we’ll switch to blue.”

“Okay.” Miranda’s hands were moist against the steering wheel, the reality of what she was about to do pulsing through her veins. Until now, she’d felt more like a victim than an active participant in Hawke’s escape, but she could no longer deny the role she was taking. Running from the police, aiding an accused killer.

If they were caught…

“You’re doing this because you have to, Miranda Sheldon.” Hawke’s voice broke into her thoughts; his words offering assurance before she’d even voiced her doubts.

“Do I?” She whispered the question, not expecting an answer.

“If you don’t, we’ll both die.”

“That’s a worse-case scenario.”

“If you really believed that, you would have run into the store and called for help instead of getting back into the car with me.”

“I need answers so that I can go home. It’s the only way to make sure my family is safe.”

“You’ll get the answers you need. We’ll get them. And once we do, you’ll have no worries about those you love.” He rubbed at the back of his head, his hand coming away bloody again.

“You need to keep applying pressure to that.”

“I need to get to Lakeview.”

Miranda took the hint and started the engine, pulling out of the parking lot, following Hawke’s directions back to the highway. It was late, traffic sparse, what few cars there were passing in flashes of light. Miranda should have been lulled by the darkness that stretched out before them, by the quiet hum of the car engine and by Hawke’s silence.

Instead, she felt wired, her body trembling with adrenaline, everything in her begging for action. Finally, she could stand the quiet no longer. “What exactly is going to happen when we get to Lakeview? Are we taking another car? A train? A plane?”

“It would be difficult to take a train or car to Thailand.” His words were so matter-of-fact they almost didn’t register.

When they did, Miranda cast a quick glance in Hawke’s direction, saw that he was watching her with a dark, intense gaze.

“You don’t mean Thailand as in the country?”

“Do you know of another Thailand?”

“No, but I’m hoping there is one, because there is no way in the world I can go to Southeast Asia.”

“Sure you can. Everything is taken care of. We’ll have a passport and paperwork waiting for you.”

“That’s great, but I won’t be needing them. I can’t go. When you said out of the country I was thinking Mexico or Canada, not halfway around the world.” Miranda’s hands were shaking on the wheel.

“I told you that the person who betrayed me to Green has to be in Thailand. No one here knew who I was or what I was doing.”

“There must be people in Thailand who can investigate.”

“I also told you, I don’t trust anyone.”

“You go, then. I’ll stay in Lakeview.”

“And what? The police know who you are. They’ve already issued an APB. It’s only a matter of time before they find you.”

“I thought….” She shook her head, knowing that she hadn’t thought. If she had, she would have known exactly what Hawke meant when he talked about leaving the country.

“What did you think?” His words were quiet, his tone more kind than Miranda expected.

“Nothing. I guess I just hoped this would all be over by tomorrow.”

“There’s no way that’s going to happen, babe. We’ve got real trouble and real trouble takes time to resolve.” There was sympathy in his voice, the first he’d shown her, and Miranda’s throat tightened in response.

She swallowed back tears and tried to keep her voice even. “My nephew’s funeral is tomorrow. I need to be there. My sister is counting on it.”

“I’m sorry for your loss. Sorry you can’t be there for your sister.” He shifted beside her, his palm sliding against her cheek, capturing a tear she hadn’t known was falling. “But allowing yourself to get arrested will only cause your family more sorrow.”

“I know.” She refused to let more tears fall, refused to allow herself to lean into Hawke’s touch. He was a stranger, after all. A stranger who had more hardness in him than sympathy.

“Is your nephew the reason you were at the funeral home tonight?”

“It seems silly now.” She stared out the windshield, the dark night and nearly empty road stretching out before her.

“Why?”

“It’s not like Justin needed me there. I just…didn’t want to let him go.”

“You were close?”

“I’ve raised him since he was two.” He’d been a son to her, though saying as much would have made her feel disloyal to her sister.

“His parents are dead?”

“No. I’m not sure who his father was. My sister is a model. She traveled too much to be his caregiver.”

“Your sister is a model?” He tensed, and Miranda felt her own muscles tighten.

“Yes. Why?”

“Someone the general public is familiar with?”

“She’s not a supermodel, if that’s what you mean, but she’s been on her fair share of magazine covers. She also does runway modeling.”

“So, not only do the police know who you are, but the world knows your sister. This isn’t good, babe.”

“The world knows Lauren, but they don’t know I’m her sister.” Lauren had never allowed the press any information regarding her son. In that way at least, she’d done what was best for Justin.

“It won’t take long for the press to find out. Once it does, your name and face will be plastered on every news station and newspaper in the country.”

“Maybe the local news, but I doubt what’s happened will be of much interest anywhere else.” But even as she said it, Miranda had the sinking feeling Hawke was right, that the double tragedy of losing a son and then having a sister turn felon would be enough to make Lauren headline news.

“I think you know you’re wrong.”

Miranda nodded, wishing she could believe otherwise. “At least Lauren doesn’t have any recent pictures of me.”

“Someone else will. The press always finds a way.”

“They’ll be hard-pressed to find anything that doesn’t show me thirty pounds heavier and ten years younger.” In the years since she’d been caring for Justin, Miranda had had little time to spend in activities that might have involved picture taking. Except for the occasional bridal or baby shower, the past few years had been spent at her bakery, at home or at church.

“Heavier. Younger. It won’t matter. Your face is one people will notice and remember.”

“I’m not that memorable.”

“No?”

“No.” Miranda could feel Hawke’s gaze as she maneuvered the car around a slow-moving vehicle, and her cheeks heated.

“Perhaps you just don’t know what people find memorable.”

“And you do?”

“I’ve made it my business to know people.” The words seemed almost a threat and Miranda wondered exactly how he used the knowledge he possessed.

“That makes one of us anyway.”

“You know enough about people to stick with me. That’s a start.”

“I just hope I’m not making a mistake.” The words slipped out and Miranda regretted them immediately. Letting Hawke know how scared she really was, letting him see how unsure she felt, could only be a mistake. And she’d made enough of those for one night. “What I mean is—”

“Exactly what you said. Don’t worry, sticking with me isn’t a mistake. Whether or not you’ll regret it, I can’t say.” He spoke quietly, all gruffness gone from his voice. In its smooth timbre Miranda heard echoes of exotic worlds, hard realities and a loneliness she understood all to well.

“Hawke—” She wasn’t sure what she meant to say, how she planned to finish. Before she had a chance to figure it out, the high-pitched shriek of sirens rent the air.

She jumped, her hands tightening on the steering wheel, her gaze flying to the rearview mirror. Lights flashed in the distance, brilliant against the darkness and coming fast.

“The police. They’ve found us.” Her voice shook, her foot pressing on the gas pedal in a knee-jerk reaction that sent the car lunging forward.

“Ease up, babe. Speeding will just call attention to us.” Hawke rested a hand on her shoulder, his palm warm through her T-shirt.

“Call attention to us? They’re right on our tail.” And getting closer every minute.

“No. They’re not. They’re on the way somewhere else. We just happen to be between them and where they’re heading.”

“You can’t know that.”

“No, I can’t. But this car’s not registered in my name. There’s no way they can know I’m in it. All we have to do is slow down and pull out of their way.”

“But—”

“Babe, my neck is at stake here, too. Pull over and get out of the way before they start wondering why we’re speeding ahead of them.” His words were calm, but there was underlying tension to them. Not fear. Something else. Frustration. Worry. Anger.

She nodded, easing her foot off the pedal, forcing herself to pull to the shoulder as the police cars sped toward them. The sirens crested to a screaming frenzy, lights flashing their dire warning. Every muscle in Miranda’s body tensed, her mind shouting that she should get out and run while she had the chance.

If Hawke was wrong, if…

In a wild, shrieking chorus, three police cruisers sped by, their lights illuminating the car, then leaving it in darkness once again. Silence settled over the night, the hushed chug of the engine a quiet backdrop to the racing beat of Miranda’s heart. She knew she should pull back onto the highway, get the car moving again, but she was shaking so hard she wasn’t sure she could manage it.

“They’re gone now. You’re safe.” Hawke’s voice was a whispered breath against her ear, his fingers stroking down her arm and capturing her hand, his palm warm against her clammy skin. His touch much too comforting for her peace of mind. “Everything is all right.”

“No, it isn’t.” She took a deep breath, tugged her hand from his and pressed down on the accelerator. “I’m with a man I don’t know, driving hundreds of miles from home so that I can catch a ride to a country halfway around the world. The police think I’m a murderer. Some drug dealer I’ve never had any contact with wants me dead. My nephew…” She shook her head, stopped herself before her sorrow could take wing. “It’s not all right.”

Hawke figured it would be better not to argue the point. Mostly because Miranda was right. While they might be all right for now, there was no telling how long that would last. “No, but we’re safe for the time being. That’s something to be thankful for.”

She shrugged, taking one hand off the steering wheel and rubbing at the base of her neck, the bicep in her arm firm beneath pale, silky skin. Hawke resisted the urge to brush her hand away and feel the strong line of her neck under his palm, the softness of her hair against his knuckles. That would be a mistake. One he couldn’t afford to make.

“Telling me we’re safe for the time being doesn’t make me feel safe at all.”

“Then what will?”

“Waking up to find this is all a nightmare.” Her voice shook, the hollows beneath her eyes darkly shadowed. For the second time that evening and probably only the second time in a decade, Hawke felt the hard edge of guilt nudging at him, telling him he’d gotten an innocent woman into the kind of danger she might not survive.

“If I could make that happen for you, I would. But I can’t.”

“Then I guess I’ll just have to keep driving and pray we both manage to make it through this alive.”

“You may want to keep me off that request, babe. God might be more willing to answer.”

She glanced in his direction, the curiosity in her eyes unmistakable, but she didn’t ask what he meant. Maybe she already knew. “God doesn’t play favorites. He’ll watch out for us equally.”

“Maybe.” Hawke’s head was pounding too hard for him to engage in philosophical debate. Besides, while religion wasn’t his thing, he’d experienced enough of life to believe there was something more to it than what could be seen; that a power greater than his own will and strength existed. What he had yet to decide was whether or not that equated to a loving God who took a personal interest in His creations.

“Sometimes I have a hard time understanding it all. How He works. Why He answers some prayers with a yes, others with a no, but I guess what it boils down to is faith. Just believing that no matter what happens, He’s there.” Miranda spoke so softly Hawke barely heard the quiet words that seemed more for herself than for him.

This time he gave into temptation and slid his hand under the thick weight of her hair, his palm resting on the silky skin at the nape of her neck. “Someone like you never need worry that God won’t be there.”

She glanced his way, her eyes shadowed. “Like I said, neither does someone like you.”

She didn’t seem to expect a response and Hawke didn’t give one. Instead, he let the silence of the night and the darkness beyond the windows envelop them.