Unraveling The Past. Elisabeth Rees
to protect a deputy who’s been wrongly accused of a crime, and my face is all over the local news.”
Ed obviously took a little while to let this information sink in. “I’m not even gonna ask how this happened,” he said finally. “Because I’m guessing you don’t have a lot of time. You need somewhere to hole up, right?”
“Right.”
“Where are you?”
“Northern Arkansas.”
“Are you close to Millington, Tennessee?”
Tyler pictured a map of the area in his mind. “Yeah, it’s only a couple of hours away. There’s a naval base there.”
“That’s right. The navy sometimes uses the base for top-secret training, and they own a log cabin in the Meeman-Shelby Forest State Park for secret personnel to stay away from prying eyes. I went there once before I was medically discharged—”
Tyler cut him off. “You’re not a SEAL anymore?”
“Tyler,” Ed replied with a low laugh, “I just told you that I only have one leg.”
In spite of his situation, Tyler laughed, too. “I’m sorry, Ed, this is a lot to take in.”
“I might need to call in a favor or two to gain access to the cabin. I’ll contact Dillon. He transferred into the coast guard a little while back, but he’s a lieutenant now, and he’ll be able to pull a few strings.”
Tyler felt a swell of gratitude in his chest. “I realize I’m asking you to take a big risk.”
Ed came back quickly with the words of a SEAL motto. “He who is not courageous enough to take risks...”
Tyler finished the sentence: “Will accomplish nothing in life.”
“Exactly, my friend. Go to the state park and keep your cell phone on. I’m in North Carolina, so it’ll take me nine or ten hours to reach you by car, but I’ll get there.”
The faint sounds of a police siren drifted into the bathroom. Tyler inhaled sharply. Had the sullen teenager at the reception desk recognized them after all?
“I gotta go,” he said. “I hear sirens.”
If any gang members listened to police scanners, it could mean that Crusher might not be far behind.
“Go,” Ed said firmly. “But remember—Audentes Fortuna Iuvat.”
Tyler translated the Latin phrase that his SEAL team would often recite before missions: “Fortune favors the brave.”
He ended the call, flung open the bathroom door and picked up his motorcycle key from the dresser, ready to jump into action. Tyler may have lost a significant portion of his life, but he most definitely remembered how to be brave.
A flutter rose in Joanna’s chest as she realized that she and Tyler were trapped. Two police vehicles had screeched to a halt outside the motel, and four armed officers stood by the cars while the skinny teenager from the front desk pointed up to their rooms on the second floor.
“They’re here for us,” she said, feeling her heart begin to pound, galvanizing her into action. “They’re coming up the stairs.”
Tyler grabbed her arm and led her into the bathroom. “I already anticipated this, so I parked the motorcycle around back late last night and hid the helmets in the bushes.”
Before Joanna knew what was happening, he had lifted her up and was pushing her through the bathroom window onto the fire escape. The metal was covered with a white frost, glinting in the winter sun. The two black bags containing their weapons and Tyler’s personal items were pushed through next. They thudded on the metal landing, closely followed by Tyler himself. He yanked the overhead fire escape ladder and pulled hard, sending it sliding to the ground in a whooshing movement.
“You first,” he said, directing her to place her feet on the ladder while he threw the bags onto the grass below. “Don’t panic but move fast. I’ll be just behind you.”
Joanna felt her feet slip on the rungs in her sneakers. These shoes weren’t made to be functional; they were made to look fashionable, and the grip was useless, particularly on the slippery metal.
“Stay calm,” Tyler urged, seeing her stumble and hold tight with freezing fingers onto the sides of the ladder. “I’m right here.”
“I’m plenty calm,” she muttered, feeling a little irritated. “I’m doing fine.”
Why did her sheriff never seem to see her as strong and capable? No matter how hard she tried, he always assumed she would mess up. He sometimes infuriated her.
Up above their heads, she heard loud knocks on the door of their motel room, followed by the words, “Open up. This is the police.”
Joanna reached the last rung of the ladder and dropped to the hardened ground as gracefully as a cat. Then she pulled her weapon from its holster and began to scan the area, searching for any hostiles. She found none, yet she felt the familiar tingle of excitement in her belly that only came from confronting danger head-on. It filled her up. It occupied those parts that were empty and hollow.
It was only when Tyler’s voice broke through her thoughts that she realized she had been lost in her own world, tensed up, ready to tackle imminent threats.
“Joanna,” he called from the motorcycle, holding a helmet in his hand. “Put this on and let’s go.” He glanced upward and she did the same, seeing the face of a police officer peering out the open bathroom window.
“Stop right there!” the officer yelled. “You’re under arrest.”
Tyler started up the motorcycle and flicked the kickstand with his foot. Joanna had no time to secure the fastenings of the helmet. She flung the straps of a bag around her shoulders and sprang onto the pillion. Tyler accelerated so fast that she almost lost her balance with the thrusting power of the engine. She was forced to grip his waist tightly as he took the motorcycle over the frost-tipped grass and onto the parking lot. The tires squealed loudly, as Tyler changed direction quickly to take them out onto the highway, heading northeast, back toward the Missouri border. She felt exhilarated, with the wind rushing through her open visor and the sound of the engine rumbling beneath the tires. They had escaped.
She glanced behind to see the officers scrambling to get into their vehicles and pursue, but their patrol cars were no match for the speed of Tyler’s powerful motorcycle. Within seconds, the cruisers were little more than dots in the distance, red and blue lights flashing in the early-morning haze. Yet the officers would be calling for backup. More would come. She hoped that Tyler had a plan because heading for the Missouri border probably wasn’t in their best interest.
Tyler clearly did have a plan, as no sooner had the thought entered her mind than he switched direction, exiting the highway and taking them onto a back road. They were now on an eastward path, leading to Tennessee. She watched the greenery whizz by in a blur of color, allowing her senses to calm once more. Being in close physical proximity to danger was the only way she could feel part of the human race. It seemed to be the only way she could feel much of anything.
As soon as the opportunity arose, Tyler pulled into a deserted rest area and guided the motorcycle to a secluded spot behind a bathroom block. He cut the engine and she took off her helmet, rubbing her hands together for warmth. Her face was numb.
“Wow, that was exciting,” she said. “What a rush.”
Tyler slid his helmet from his head, his sandy hair bouncing with the movement. His face was angry. “No, that was not a rush,” he said forcefully. “It was a really close call, and you need to start paying better attention to your surroundings. You’re way too careless.”
She rolled