Witness On The Run. Susan Cliff
parka, her spirits low. She didn’t want to say goodbye to Cam yet. He made her feel sexy and tingly and warm inside. More importantly, he made her feel safe. Tearing her gaze away from the mirror, she picked up her backpack and left the bathroom. She searched the crowd for Cam and found someone else.
The police officer from Willow.
He was in plainclothes, but she recognized his face. He was standing less than twenty feet away, blocking her path to the exit. His mouth stretched into a menacing smile. Pulse racing, she whirled around and headed the opposite direction. She rushed through the garden section, trying not to panic. It was filled with indoor plants and herbs. Alaskans liked to grow stuff, even in the dead of winter.
She spotted another exit sign in the corner. She started running toward it. She knocked over a garden gnome and kept going. Then she was outside in the cold, dark morning. The parking lot lights beckoned. She didn’t see Cam’s truck, but it didn’t matter. She needed to escape without involving him. She sprinted away from the danger, picking up speed with every stride. Running had always come naturally to her. She’d won several medals for her college cross-country team.
Unfortunately, she got tripped up before she could reach the road. A man jumped out from behind a parked car and pushed a shopping cart directly into her path. She couldn’t hurtle it, and she was going too fast to stop. She avoided the cart, but collided with the man. They both went sprawling.
When she tried to scramble away, he grabbed her by the arm. He was skinny, but strong. He rose to his feet and dragged her upright. She recognized him as one of the killers from the diner. With his free hand, he brandished a wicked-looking knife. When he twisted his wrist, the blade glinted in the dark.
She stopped struggling.
“Walk,” he ordered.
She moved forward, swallowing hard. A glance over her shoulder revealed Cam emerging from the garden section. He bolted toward them. She didn’t want him to get hurt, but she needed his help. Her captor pulled her along, wrenching her arm painfully.
Five.
She counted down the seconds until Cam struck.
Four.
The man at her side continued walking, staring straight ahead.
Three.
Cam was almost on them.
Two.
She jerked her elbow from the man’s grasp and dove to the ground like a bomb was about to go off. And it kind of did. Cam was the bomb. He exploded with brutal force, punching her captor in the back of the neck. The skinny man staggered forward and dropped his knife, which clattered to the asphalt. He looked stunned, but he didn’t fall down. He turned to fight, raising his fists protectively.
Cam punched him again, in the jaw, and that was all it took. The man spun around and crumpled to the ground like a leaf. Cam kicked the knife away. He said a few choice words, his mouth twisted with fury.
Tala stayed down, afraid to move. She thought Cam might continue his attack. He stood over his opponent, as if evaluating his condition. Then he left the guy alone and came to Tala. When he offered her a hand, she took it.
“Are you all right?”
She stood, testing the strength of her knees. “Yes.”
The parking lot wasn’t deserted. There were cars driving past, people coming and going. She glanced around for the police officer, her legs shaky. He wasn’t there, but someone else emerged from the shadows. It was the man who’d leered at her at the diner. His jacket was open. He had a revolver tucked into his waistband.
Cam used one arm to move Tala into the space behind him.
“What’s the trouble?” the man asked.
Tala gripped Cam’s elbow, terrified. Cam didn’t answer. A car passed by in the next lane, its headlights illuminating the scene. The man closed his jacket. He squinted at the curious onlooker in annoyance. Then he nudged his friend with the edge of his boot.
“Get up.”
The skinny man rose to his feet slowly. The man with the gun helped him stagger away. He shot Cam a threatening look over his shoulder. Then they both disappeared into the dark recesses of the parking lot. An older-model SUV, maybe a Ford Bronco, took off in the opposite direction. There were other vehicles in motion. It was difficult to tell which one held the men who’d attacked her.
Cam picked up her backpack. “We have to go back inside to call the police.”
Fear spiked through her. “No. We can’t.”
“Why not?”
“There was another man in the store. He’s with them.”
His eyes narrowed with suspicion. He glanced toward the front entrance. “Okay, we’ll call from my truck.”
She didn’t argue, because she wanted to get out of sight. They crossed the parking lot in long strides. Cam unlocked the door for her. She climbed in, taking the backpack from his hands. He walked to the driver’s side and got behind the wheel.
“Please,” she said. “Let’s just go.”
A muscle in his jaw flexed. He fired up the engine and left the parking lot. A delayed reaction to the close call struck her. She started shaking uncontrollably. Tears flooded her eyes. She drew her knees to her chest, making a tight ball with her body. She thought about Duane, the last man who’d been violent toward her. He’d said he was going to kill her once. She didn’t know if he meant it, or if he was capable of murder. He seemed pretty tame compared to the men she was currently running from.
When she lifted her head, they were parked on the side of the street, in front of an auto repair garage. There was a café and a bookstore across the street. Cam turned off the engine and gave her a measured look.
“I have to call the police,” he said again.
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