Valley of Shadows. Shirlee McCoy
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