ZERO HERO (The Kate Huntington Mystery series) (21 page)

            “Sounds like a plan. Where do you want to stop?”

            “I checked out a few places online. There’s one that looked promising in Berkeley Springs, West Virginia. Forty some miles east and then a bit south of Cumberland.”

            “Are they open this time of year?”

            “Yup. There’s a warm mineral spring there. Attracts folks, year round. It should be a good stopping point for another reason.”

            “What’s that?”

            “Far enough away from where Pete is that I can use my credit card to take you out for a nice dinner.”

            “You think these guys could be monitoring our credit card activity?”

            “Probably not. But to be on the safe side, I gave Manny most of my cash, for groceries and such.”

            “I’ll reimburse you from the bail money fund.”

            “No you won’t. I know you’ve already used up what came from the collection. That’s your money.”

            “
Our
money, sweetheart.”

~~~~~~~~

            Dave sat in the stolen car, the driver’s seat pushed all the way back. He stared at the Canfields’ house. It had the closed-up feel to it that said its occupants were on vacation.

            His laptop was balanced on his knees. There was more than one way to locate prey. He’d hacked into two sites and had them both open in side-by-side windows.

            His broken arm ached. He took his eyes off the screen long enough to grab the bottle of ibuprofen from the passenger’s seat. When he looked back at the computer, he felt a jolt of excitement. He wasn’t sure what the abbreviation for the merchant meant, but he recognized the location.

            Opening another window, he went to Google maps. A grin spread across his face.

            Plan C was falling into place. It would mean a few cold hours waiting on the side of the road, but an Expedition with a dinged-up door shouldn’t be all that hard to spot.

            Soon all loose ends would be tied up in neat little bows.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

            Kate lazed in bed the next morning while Skip took a shower. This getaway, even though brief, had been just what they’d needed. And based on his performance last night, Skip didn’t seem to have any lingering effects from the prostitute incident.

            But she couldn’t shake the feeling that something else was going on with him, something subtle she couldn’t put her finger on. A light rapping on their door announced that breakfast had arrived. Kate put on her robe to answer the door. She thanked their hostess for the in-room service, a perk of arriving when business was a little slow.

            The shower went off as she poured a cup of coffee. She poured one for Skip as well.

            How to bring the subject up? It was all so vague. Something had shifted but she wasn’t sure what. Nor was she sure it was a bad shift. Then again, she could just be imagining things.

            Skip sat down across from her at the small table by the window. His robe gaped open across his broad chest. Kate was enjoying the view as she handed him his coffee.

            “Thanks, darlin’.” He took a sip, then dug into the heaping plate of bacon and eggs in front of him.

            She ate a couple bites of egg. “Sweetheart, are you feeling guilty about Mac getting shot?” She figured it was as good a place to start as any.

            His hand froze, a piece of toast halfway to his mouth. “Where’s that coming from?”

            “I don’t know. You’ve seemed a bit off lately.”

            He snorted. “Life hasn’t exactly been normal lately.” He bit into the toast.

            “True.” She chewed on a strip of bacon. Was the shift just in her?

            “Is it bothering you that I’ve become a bit more kickass, as you put it?”

            He forked eggs into his mouth and chewed. She was starting to fear that he was indeed bothered by it when he finally said, “Nope, but it’s required some adjustment. I keep reminding myself I should treat you more like I do Rose, and assume you can take care of yourself. Unless I’ve got a specific reason to be concerned.”

            “Like not wanting me to come out here by myself?”

            He nodded.

            She scooped up a forkful of her own eggs. The shift, it
had
started after Mac got shot.

            She tried again. “You sure you’re not feeling guilty about Mac?”

            “I did some at first. Then I realized if Mac knew I felt that way, he’d be royally pissed. In his mind, he was just being a good soldier, covering my back.”

            “You’re right. He’d be downright insulted.” She thought about probing a bit more, but decided against it. She didn’t really want to break the mood of their romantic getaway.

            And she was finding the sight of his muscular chest way too distracting. She hastily finished her breakfast, then got up and circled the table. Sitting down on his lap, she laid a hand on that bare chest. The skin quivered under her touch.

            Skip had been in the process of bringing his coffee cup to his mouth. He put it down instead and turned to look at the clock on the bedside table. “We don’t have to check out until noon.”

            Kate kissed the side of his neck.

~~~~~~~~

            At twelve-thirty, they were zipping along the highway, having paid their bill and thanked their hostess. On a chilly Sunday, few people were out and about. They had the road to themselves. They started down one of the long roller-coaster hills. Skip let the truck get up to eighty before he tapped the brakes.

            He glanced over at his wife. Kate had laid her head back against the headrest, a small satisfied smile on her face.

            A car suddenly appeared beyond Kate’s window. He hadn’t noticed it coming up behind them. Must have gotten on from the entrance ramp they’d just passed.

            The car kept pace with him, which was kind of irritating. They were the only two vehicles on the road and this guy had to ride right beside him. He glanced over again. The male driver was alone in the car. A baseball cap, pulled low, cast his face in shadow. He was staring straight ahead, oblivious to Skip’s irritated glare.

            Opting to ignore the guy, Skip went back to daydreaming about the pleasant evening they’d had the night before. He’d taken Kate to a nice restaurant, recommended by their B&B hostess. The bottle of red wine they’d shared had been decent and the food was indeed excellent. They’d lingered over dessert, thoroughly enjoying the absence of demanding little people.

            Definitely have to remember to thank–

            The steering wheel jerked violently as the screech of metal against metal assaulted his ears. Adrenaline shot through his system. He slammed on the brakes.

            Kate fell forward against her seatbelt, hands flying out in front of her.

           
Did the jerk fall asleep at the wheel?

            It took a second to register that the car had not gone on by.

            The dark sedan’s fender bounced off of his again, pushing the truck toward the left shoulder of the road. The shoulder that had only a two-foot high guardrail separating it from a sheer drop-off.

            Skip wrenched the steering wheel to the right to compensate. His gut twisted.

            The sedan hit him again.

            Kate was peering at the profile of the driver. “It’s him!” she yelled. “I think it’s Talbot!”

            Skip shoved the accelerator to the floor. The powerful truck engine thrust them past the car.

            He gritted his teeth. His gun was in the low console between the seats, but he dared not take a hand off the wheel.

            They hit the bottom of the hill doing ninety-five and swooped up the beginning of the incline with a sickening stomach drop. Skip glanced in the rearview mirror. The sedan was trying to catch up. He let up slightly on the accelerator, until it was almost abreast of them, then he slammed on the brakes.

            The tail end of the truck fish-tailed as the sedan flew past them. It kept going up over the crest of the next hill.

            Skip looked in his mirror. Still no other cars around. A loud grating noise was coming from the front right fender area. He pulled over onto the left shoulder and put the truck in park.

            “Are you okay?” His eyes weren’t on his wife, however. He glanced back and forth between the crest of the hill and his rearview mirror, as he tried without success to slow his racing pulse.

            “Yeah.” Kate rubbed her shoulder where the seatbelt had grabbed her. “I couldn’t tell for sure, but I think that was the guy.” She sucked in air. “The one who attacked me.”

            Skip nodded, still surveying their surroundings as he unbuckled his seatbelt. “Stay in the truck. He may come back.” He retrieved his pistol and tucked it into his waistband at the small of his back.

            “Huh-uh. He could ram the truck and send it over the edge.”

            “Good point.” They both climbed out. Careful not to look down, he edged his way along the narrow strip of gravel between the truck and guardrail. “Keep an eye out while I check on the damage.”

            He crouched down beside the right fender. Kate stood nearby, her head swiveling back and forth as she scanned the highway in both directions.

            The fender was buckled in against the tire. They probably wouldn’t get far before the friction wore a hole in the sidewall. And it looked like the tire was tilted inward at the top. Could mean the wheel or the axle was damaged.

            Skip sank back on his heels.
Wonder how far it is to the next exit?
He started to stand up.

            Kate grabbed his arm and yanked him the rest of the way to his feet. “He’s coming.”

            Skip followed her line of vision. If there’d been any doubts this was Kate’s assailant, they were gone now. The sedan was racing down the hill at them, going in the wrong direction on the highway.

            Bile rose in Skip’s throat.
This guy’s crazy!

            They ran toward the back of the truck. He spotted an area just ahead where there was a strip of ground beyond the guardrail. He shoved Kate in that direction. “Get over the rail and duck down!”

            She scrambled over the guardrail and clung to one of its posts.

            Skip ran past her position and leaped over the railing, onto the narrow strip of ground on the other side, just as the sedan roared past them.

            The dirt gave way under him. He grabbed for the guardrail, his feet scrambling for a foothold.

            Pain shot up his arm. His hand reflexively yanked away from the source, a sharp spot on the upper edge of the metal railing. He started to slide down the steep incline as his other hand strained toward a post just beyond his fingertips.

            Kate’s scream echoed across the valley.

            His body was bouncing off rocks and scrub bushes sticking out of the hillside. He grabbed for the bushes, finally connecting with one of the sturdier ones just as one foot landed on something solid.

            He teetered for a moment, then leaned in against the cliff. His body came to rest against the rocky surface, his throbbing fingers wrapped around the base of a bush protruding from a crack. His toes were on a narrow ledge.

            He looked up. His head swam with vertigo. He quickly lowered his forehead to touch the cliff again. The rock was cool against his sweaty skin.

            He raised his head more slowly this time. Kate was looking down at him, her face too far away to read her expression. But he was quite sure she was as terrified as he was.

            He swallowed hard. “I’m okay,” he called up to her. “I’m on a ledge. There’s a rope in the back of the truck.”

            Her face disappeared.

            “Wait! Kate, come back!”

            Her face reappeared.  “My spare gun’s locked in the glove box. Same key as the ignition. The bullets are in the bottom of the center console. Get it and load it.”

~~~~~~~~

            She found the rope and the gun with no problem. The bullets were another matter. She considered abandoning the search. How long before the roots of that bush let go?

            The sight of that sedan bearing down on them flashed into her mind. She started pulling things out of the center console with both hands. At the very bottom was the small box of cartridges. She dropped two on the passenger’s seat as she hurried to cram the bullets into the revolver. Snapping it shut, she stuffed it and the box of bullets in her jacket pockets.

            After a quick scan of the deserted highway, she stepped carefully over the guardrail near where Skip had fallen. Her heart thudded against the wall of her chest. Hanging onto the railing with one hand, she leaned out over the edge.

            He was still there, looking up at her.

            She let out her breath. “Got the rope,” she called down.

            “The gun too?”

            “Yeah.”

            She knelt beside the guardrail and tied the rope around a post, tripling the knot to be on the safe side. Then she tossed the other end over the side of the cliff.

            “Got it,” drifted up to her. She blew out air again, then climbed back over the guardrail to more solid ground.

            She started to turn around and froze. Someone was silhouetted against the sun, walking down the hill a few hundred feet behind them.

           
Walks like a man.
She couldn’t make out the face but she caught the telltale bright blue casing on his arm.
A cast!

            Further up the hill, a dark sedan was parked on the shoulder.

            “Stay down there! He’s coming back!”

            Kate raced to the Expedition’s driver door. She opened it as far as she could against the guardrail and crouched on the other side of it, fumbling in her jacket pocket for the .38.