Final Touch (13 page)

F
or fifteen minutes after I’d hung the T-shirt in my window, I sat without speaking. But inside my head was anything but silence. Prayers wailed through my mind, begging God for the chance to drive through Peace, for rescue. As our wheels ate up the miles, I
felt
the nearing presence of our new “home.” It felt dark and oppressive. Might as well have been a dungeon instead of some cabin in the wilderness. Loathing and despair crept through me. I could not arrive there. Live there.

Then, like a desert mirage, I spotted buildings down the road. My heart leapt into my throat. “Is that Peace?”

“Yup.”

My right hand dropped down to feel the eyebrow pencil lying by my door. I pushed it beneath my seat.

For a moment I couldn’t form a sound.

“Nice town.” Joshua sounded proud, as if he’d founded the place himself. “People leave you alone.”

No. Don’t leave us alone!

“How many people live there?” I forced casualness into my tone.

“I don’t know. Couple thousand, maybe.” Joshua gave me a hard look. “Not that you’ll be making friends there.”

I swallowed. The town grew closer.

With a deep breath, I shifted in my seat and lifted my right arm to lie against the window.

I checked the clock. It was still so early in the morning. Peering
through the windshield, I saw no one as we approached the town. Surely someone had to be awake and on the streets.
Please, God.

At the edge of town we passed a sign.
Peace. Population: 1,882.
The speed limit dropped to thirty. Joshua slowed to forty.

My heart knocked against my ribs. I licked my lips, concentrating on resting my left hand on my knee, fingers open. They wanted to clench. To shake. They wanted to pound against the windshield and yell for someone to notice me.

We crossed into the town. Small wood houses lined each side of the street, giving way to businesses. A small grocery, a hardware store. The road became Main Street, with dilapidated storefronts, some empty. Not one was open yet.

Anxiety pressed my lungs until I could barely breathe. Just three blocks ahead, I could see open road again. So little time for anyone to appear.

We rolled through the next block, my eyes darting left and right. Still I saw no one. Panic clawed at my windpipe. I pressed the backs of my legs against my seat to keep them from trembling.

We hit another block. Only one remained. The town sat silent and empty. A crazy thought struck me—that Joshua knew all about my T-shirt and somehow had come here ahead of time, killing everyone so we could roll through, undisturbed. I threw him a glance. He turned his head and leered.

“Not far now.” He chuckled low in his throat. “I did it. I really did it.”

Here it came—the final block. Nothing but open country, brown and hilly, beyond it. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to shove open my door and fling myself onto the pavement. What if I did? Would someone hear me before Joshua forced me back into the car? What price would I pay?

We neared the edge of town. It was now or never. My muscles gathered, energy pooling. My limbs tensed, ready to spring—

Joshua grunted in disgust. My eyes jerked to him. He was looking
in the rearview mirror. My right arm came off the window. I started to turn.

“Stop!” he barked. “You just look straight ahead.”

“What is it?”

“Police car.”

A second passed before my chaotic mind could register.
Police?
Where had he come from?

Joshua flicked another look into the mirror. “Nothin’ to worry about.” Joshua’s words were clipped, tense. “He just happened to turn onto the street behind us.”

A coincidence, that was all. We hadn’t passed a police car on my side of the Camry, I was sure of that. No way he could have seen the T-shirt. No way.

“Don’t you move.” Joshua’s voice darkened with threat. “Don’t forget I got that gun under my seat. Wouldn’t want you to make me have to kill him.”

I stared straight ahead, eyes burning.

The town faded past us. I fought to keep my chin up, my mouth from trembling.

Joshua continued to glance in the rearview mirror. He leaned toward the steering wheel, his back not touching the seat.

“Is he still there?” I whispered.

No reply. Left hand on the wheel, Joshua bent down and fished underneath the seat with his right hand. He brought up the gun. Laid it in his lap.

My stomach fluttered. “Don’t hurt him. Please. He can’t know anything.”

Behind us a siren whooped once.

My breath sucked in. I turned wide eyes to Joshua. His face blackened. Curses spilled from his lips.

“What are you—”

“Shut up!”

The siren whooped again. I saw a flash of red reflected in the mirror.

No, policeman, go away. Don’t stop us!

Joshua reached over and dug his fingers into my thigh. I gasped in pain. “
Don’t
you move,” he seethed. “Don’t say a word. You hear?”

“Please don’t shoot him.”

“
Do you hear?
”

“Yes. Yes!”

Joshua slowed the car and pulled toward the side of the road.

We stopped.

Fear cocooned me. I couldn’t move. I watched Joshua as from some distant place as he left the car in drive, put his foot on the brake. With his left hand he hit the button to roll down his window. His right hand picked up the gun and held it low, down by the front of his seat.

Footsteps sounded on pavement. They grew closer. I couldn’t just sit there and let this policeman
die.

Joshua’s fingers gripped his weapon, knuckles whitening.

The officer reached Joshua’s window. Leaned down.

“No!” I screamed. “Run!”

The officer’s surprised eyes locked with mine. Joshua’s right arm rose. The policeman jerked back. My hand shot out and punched Joshua’s elbow—just as he pulled the trigger. His aim went wild out the window. The policeman grabbed for his gun, yanked it out.

Joshua re-aimed.

“No!” I hit him again—too late.

He fired. A bullet hole punched in the officer’s right chest. The man grunted and staggered back. Sank to his knees, then fell face forward.

I froze, sick to the core. Hot tears sprang to my eyes.

“You’re dead now, Shaley, you’re
dead!
” Joshua smacked his foot on the accelerator. We jolted forward, throwing me back against my seat. Tires squealing, he peeled out onto the highway, leaving the dying policeman in the dust.

R
ayne swayed to her feet and crossed the bedroom. She flung open the door to see Al, with Gary close behind. Gary surged past the FBI agent. “They’ve seen Shaley! They’ve
seen Shaley!
” He grabbed Rayne by the shoulders and hung on. But his face showed only terror.

Rayne’s eyes widened. Her head swiveled from Gary to Al. “Where? What happened? How is she?”

“In Montana.” Gary’s words spilled over themselves. “Near the Canadian border. A policeman stopped their car and…” His face whitened. He shook his head at Al. “Tell her.”

Al held up a hand, palm out—his gesture for Rayne to stay calm. “It’s in a little town called Peace, Montana. They’re in the stolen Camry, just as we suspected. An officer pulled them over on a routine stop for exceeding the speed limit. He hadn’t seen the Be on the Lookout for the car and had no idea what he was walking into.”

“Did he get Shaley?” Rayne blurted. Her lungs felt on fire. “Is she safe?”

“I’m afraid it didn’t happen that way. Fledger shot him and took off.”

“No.” The heat in Rayne’s chest spread through her body. “Is he dead? Is Shaley…”

“Looks like the officer will pull through. He was shot in the upper right chest, so it missed his heart. He was able to drag himself back to his car and radio for help. Local police vehicles are on their way. There’s only one road leading out of that town for some distance.
State police have also been alerted. They’re putting a chopper in the air.”

Rayne clutched Gary’s hands, her nerves zinging with hope and fear. What if Fledger shot Shaley? What if he drove so fast he crashed the car? “What do we do now?” she whispered. “What do we
do?
”

“We pray.” Gary squeezed her hands until it hurt. His handsome face looked worn and old, his eyes red. “We pray.”

I
pressed against my seat, hands clutched in my lap and tears rolling down my face. The sight of the policeman collapsing on the road flashed again and again in my head. It was all my fault. Maybe he
had
seen the T-shirt in the window. He’d come to help me—and now he was dead.

Joshua drove like a wild man, hunched over the wheel and cursing. We sped past rocky hills on the straight road. With every mile I knew we would wreck.

Maybe it would be better that way. Just crash and die. Anything was better than what awaited me.

Joshua glanced in the rearview mirror and spat another curse. I resisted the urge to turn around and look. Instead I lowered my visor and peered into the attached mirror.

Flashing red lights—far back in the distance.

All air sucked from my lungs. New, wild hope surged through me, pursued by terror. I could die here.

Joshua gunned the motor. Our speed hit ninety-five. He gripped the steering wheel, teeth clenched. His breath came in hard puffs. “I’m
not
lettin’ them take you.”

I watched the road fly at us, my muscles stiff as wood.

“Take that T-shirt off the window,” Joshua spat. “I need to see.”

Quickly I rolled the window down an inch, yanked down the shirt, and stuffed it under my seat. Closed the window again.

A minute passed. Two. My eyes fixed on the visor mirror. The red lights were no closer.

Joshua slowed down.

I threw him a look of panic. What was he going to do? Then I saw a turnoff ahead—an unpaved road on the right that disappeared behind a hill about a mile away. Joshua slowed more, but not nearly enough to make the turn. What was he
thinking?
I gripped the edge of my seat and the dashboard, bracing myself. We neared the turnoff. My heart jumped into my throat. I dug my heels against the floor and squeezed my eyes shut.

The car whipped to the right.

I felt us skid…rise up on two wheels. The seconds dragged out. In my mind I saw us flipping over and over. My mouth opened with a keening cry. Here it came, the churning—

The car jolted back onto all four tires.

Our rear end skidded out, then righted.

The Camry leapt forward.

My eyes opened. The hill was straight ahead, still some distance away. Sirens sounded behind us. I looked in the mirror and saw
two
police cars. They’d gained on us when we slowed.

But they would have to make that turn too.

The road curved toward the left of the hill. Joshua didn’t slow. His face was red, and his jaw hard and set. I saw the truth in his face—he would never let me get out of this alive. He’d come this far. He had no intention of losing now.

The sirens faded. The police cars had slowed to turn.

We rounded the hill. About a half mile away the road ended. I saw two cabins and a barn.

Joshua let out a growl of victory. His lips spread in a sneering smile.

We rocketed toward the cabins. At the last possible second Joshua slowed. Even then I thought it was too late. We weren’t going to stop. We’d go right through one of the buildings.

He hit the brake. An antilock system kicked the car into a crazy shudder. I closed my eyes again and hung on, melting into my seat. Waiting for the crash…

The Camry slung to a stop.

My lungs wouldn’t work. I heaved a shuddering sob.

“Get out!” Joshua yelled. “Now!” He undid his seat belt, grabbed his gun, and bolted from the car. I fumbled with my own belt. My fingers wouldn’t work. Joshua ran around the front, jerked open my door. My seat belt fell away. He grabbed me by the arm and pulled me out. Shoved me toward the cabin. “Inside!”

I stumbled up one cement block step, Joshua beside me. We crossed a narrow porch with no roof. Joshua flung open the front door, pushed me over the threshold, and jumped in behind me. The door slammed. He locked it.

Joshua dragged me through a rustic living area, a kitchen on our left. Down a central hallway. We passed a bedroom on the right, a bathroom on the left. He sent me sprawling through the second right-hand door. I hit the end of a double bed and collapsed upon it. “Stay there!” He pointed a thick finger at me, then disappeared.

I struggled toward the head of the bed and drew my knees up to my chest.

Joshua’s footsteps drummed the cabin’s bare floors. I heard a door open, the rattle of something.

Guns?

Sweat beaded on my forehead and ran down my temple.

More running—toward the front of the cabin. Then came an unmistakable sound. A shotgun being cocked.

Footfalls. Joshua appeared in the doorway, shotgun in his left hand. His eyes were narrowed and mean, his lips curling. “They
ain’t
takin’ you.”

We stared at each other.

“Where’s Caleb?” My mouth barely worked.

“I don’t know.”

“Is that his cabin next door?”

“He ain’t there. No car out front.”

Thank God. If there were two of them…“Does he have guns too?”

Joshua stabbed me with a look. “We got plenty of protection.”

Sirens wailed through the air. Our heads jerked toward the sound. I cringed against the wall. “What are you going to do?”

“
Kill
’em. And if they send more, kill them too.”

My heart curled up and dried out. How many more people were going to die because of me? “Just let me go. Then no one else has to get hurt.”

Joshua crossed the space between us in a split second. He grabbed the front of my shirt with one hand and yanked me up in his face. His nose touched mine, and his foul breath spilled over me. “I. Will.
Never.
Let you go. Got that?” He pulled his head back and shook me. My body bounced around. “You’re
mine.
”

I shrank away. Joshua wouldn’t let go of me.

Suddenly, a tiny trickle of courage leaked into my heart. I forced myself to lean toward him. Feigned a concerned look. “They’ll kill you.”

Joshua’s mouth twisted. He stared into my soul with an expression of pure, selfish evil. “Ain’t nobody else gonna have you, Shaley. If I die, I’m takin’ you with me.”

He pushed me back against the wall and stalked from the room.