Chapter Three
O ther than for gas, snacks and a quick pee, Sera drove all night, guzzling crappy rest stop coffee to keep her awake. Every so often, her car would start making a weird rattling sound, but it eventually stopped. Thank God. It definitely wouldn’t be good if she conked out in the middle of nowhere.
One state after another fell off in her rearview mirror, and sixteen hours later, she found herself in Montana.
Ominous gray clouds hung in the sky and snow-covered mountain peaks soared in the distance.
She would have to buy a coat before the day was over.
San Diego weather rarely ventured below sixty-five degrees, even at this time of year.
But she quickly discovered that Montana in December was a veritable icebox.
The rugged state was exceptionally beautiful, but cold as hell.
It was almost noon and she cringed as she drove past another poor dead animal’s corpse laying on the side of the road.
“Bless its little heart,” she murmured. At this point, she’d said the phrase at least a hundred times, but it made her so sad whenever she saw a poor furry critter who hadn’t made it across the road fast enough. Hopefully the creature was now at peace and in a better, safer place.
A few hours ago, she’d called her sister and explained the situation.
Mel asked why she hadn’t gone straight to the cops.
A logical question on the surface, but some memories died hard.
The police hadn’t been able to help her before, so she had very little faith in them now.
And, quite simply, she’d panicked. Active shooters had a way of doing that to her.
She also had no proof, and the last thing she wanted was to come off as a crazy person. It’s not like Jeremy’s lifeless corpse would still be lying there on the warehouse floor. The police would’ve taken her report, probably checked things out, and told her everything was being handled.
But what if Joel discovered she’d witnessed him shooting Jeremy? If he played the cams back—and since he already suspected someone was there, he would—he’d see her. And then he’d silence her.
No, it was safer to leave town. Not like she had any ties to San Diego, anyway. Mel was safe in Canada and—
She sucked in a sharp breath as a terrible thought hit her. What if they went after Mel? Her sister was listed as her emergency contact in her employment paperwork which Joel could easily access.
Please, no. I can’t let that happen.
Overwhelmed, exhausted and now alarmed about her sister’s safety, too, Sera blinked hard.
Her eyes felt gritty and she was barely keeping them open.
Maybe she should pull over at the next rest stop and try to sleep for a couple hours.
She felt weary to her bones and feared she wasn’t thinking clearly.
It probably wouldn’t hurt. She had to be far enough away to be safe for a little while.
Besides, how would Joel know where she was going, anyway?
Taking the next exit, she found a small place to stop with a gas station and convenience store. Unfortunately, there weren’t any of the big interstate rest stops the truckers used around there. Just rinky dink pit stops off the beaten path with questionable characters behind the counter.
She parked in the nearly empty lot and looked around. Where was everyone? Unease rolled through her, but any other place would be nearly identical. And her bladder revolted at the idea of driving even another mile. Looking over at Loki curled up on the passenger seat, she said, “Be right back.”
Slinging her purse over her shoulder, trying not to stress over the dark sky, she headed for the small building. If it was clean and had coffee, she’d be fine. Or so she thought.
A bell dinged as Sera walked in and a kid with his hair in a man-bun sat on a stool behind the counter, glued to his phone.
He didn’t even look up as she walked past another customer at the coffee bar and then entered the women’s restroom.
Five stalls lined the wall opposite a couple of sinks.
She walked down to the last one, slipped inside and bolted it.
After taking care of business, she washed her hands and had just tossed the soggy brown paper towel into the trash can when her phone rang in her purse.
Digging it out, she glanced down at the caller ID and froze.
J&J Shipping.
It was Saturday, so there was no reason anyone should be calling her. Had her boss figured out she’d been down in the warehouse when he’d murdered Jeremy? Or was she running for no good reason? Needing to know, she swiped the bar and pressed the phone against her ear.
“Hello?” she said, trying to sound as calm and normal as possible. But, on the inside, she was shaking.
“Hello, Sera.”
Shit, it was Joel. Her heart rate kicked up, pulse roaring.
“You worked pretty late last night, didn’t you?”
Sera cleared her throat. “Oh, just til six.” More like seven, but she wasn’t about to admit that. Or the fact she’d seen him put a bullet in his business partner.
“Really? You didn’t go down to the warehouse?”
Busted. But she wasn’t about to admit anything.
For a long moment he didn’t say anything, and she swallowed hard, starting to sweat.
Then, his voice took on an ominous tone when he said, “I want to know what you saw last night when you were creeping around down among the crates. Did you check the shipments on your paperwork? Find any, ah, discrepancies? Or happen to see anything else?”
She pressed her lips together, not sure what to say.
“What do you know, Sera?” He punctuated each word, and she shivered.
“N-nothing.”
“Is that why you ran?”
“I’m not sure what you mean. I checked on an order for a customer and left at six,” she lied.
“I watched the cameras, Sera.”
Her stomach sank. Shit.
“There’s too much on the line. I can’t let you walk away. Sorry it had to come to this.” He disconnected the call and she yanked the phone away from her ear like it burned.
Dread washed over her, that ice-cold trickle of fear once again slithering down her spine. Had he sent someone after her? A few times during the night, she’d wondered if a black SUV was following her, but when she hadn’t seen it for almost two whole states, she chalked it up to paranoia.
Very carefully, she cracked open the bathroom door and saw two men talking to the kid at the counter. Her gut told her to avoid them at all costs. She didn’t know who they were, and she wasn’t waiting around to find out.
Hurrying back into the last stall, she climbed up onto the toilet seat and gripped the edges of the frosted glass window above it. Hoping like hell she could open it and crawl out, she shoved hard. Nothing happened. The damn thing didn’t even budge. Probably because it had been painted shut.
Pulling in a deep, steadying breath, she told herself the men wouldn’t come into the women’s restroom—
The door opened with a loud squeak and Sera dropped down to a crouch, not daring to make a sound.
As much as she wanted to squeeze her eyes shut and pretend it was just another nightmare, she didn’t dare.
She was very much awake and, once again, she was trapped in an enclosed space.
Panic tore into her with razor sharp teeth.
Sweating, battling off the pressing panic attack, she forced herself to lock it down. She’d get out of there. Survive just like she had before.
Listening intently, the thump of boots approached the farthest stall. Only one man. The other was probably checking the men’s room. A creak filled the air as he pushed the metal door open then moved to the next.
“Sera,” he called softly, teasingly. “Are you in here?”
Oh, God, he knew her name. There was no doubt now that she had been followed.
The next stall door opened. Only two more to go and he’d reach hers.
Clenching her fists, holding her breath, she silently stepped off the toilet seat, reached into her purse and removed the mace she carried.
She could see the man moving closer through the narrow gap between the panels.
Heart in her throat, she lifted her hand, covered her nose and mouth, and placed her finger over the trigger.
You’re not a victim.
The moment he pushed her door open, she pressed the button and a stream of pepper spray shot out and hit him in the face. Surprised, he staggered back and let out a sharp cry. Sera rushed past him as he clawed at his no doubt burning eyes and ran out of the bathroom.
She didn’t see the other man as she raced toward the exit, past the kid at the counter with his nose once again glued to his phone, and out the door.
How had they tracked her? Her cell? She needed to hide, go off grid.
Maybe driving to her sister’s place in Manitoba was a bad idea.
The last thing she wanted to do was lead them there and put Mel and her husband at risk, too.
Not sure what to do, she jumped into her car, shoved the key into the ignition and the engine stuttered to life.
Barely. Shoulders slumping in relief, she sent up a thank you to the car gods, put the car in drive and hit the gas.
The moment she pulled onto the road, the car started making that strange rattling noise again.
Honestly, she was surprised the piece of junk had made it this far without conking out.
Don’t jinx yourself.
Driving as fast as possible, she groaned when snowflakes began to fall, dusting the road and her windshield.
She hit the wipers, but within ten minutes, the light flurries had morphed into a vicious assault of large flakes that obscured her vision.
She hadn’t gotten far when her car hit a patch of black ice and swerved off the road.
With an alarmed cry, she threw her arm over Loki to protect him as the car slid down an embankment, spinning sideways, and then slammed into a split rail fence. The impact threw her against her door and her head slammed against the driver’s side window.
And then everything went black.
◆◆◆
Corey glanced up at the sky. He had no doubt snow would start falling soon, but he didn’t feel like stopping at the grocery store and stocking up.
He figured he had enough food to weather the storm, plus he felt like absolute shit.
By the time he reached his cabin, his entire body ached and fatigue hit hard.
Who the hell had gotten him sick? He hadn’t left the cabin in three weeks and—
“Fuuuck,” he groaned, remembering the kid who’d delivered his groceries. Hell, he’d probably touched them and then sneezed all over everything with his germs. Lovely.
Dragging himself out of his truck, he trudged up the few steps onto the log cabin’s large porch and gripped the door frame, feeling as though he’d just climbed Mt.
Everest. Struggling to unlock the door, he fought back a wave of nausea.
Damn, he hadn’t felt great earlier, but now he felt like he’d barely make it inside.
Whatever bug he caught, probably the damn flu, was hitting him hard and fast. He hated being sick, but he figured he could sleep it off.
Storm greeted him at the door, golden gaze shining.
“Hey, boy.” Corey pet the wolf’s head. “I’m gonna just lie down for a bit.”
He planned to pop a couple of acetaminophens first, but suddenly the idea of trekking all the way down to his bathroom’s medicine cabinet seemed like an awfully long way to go. Instead, he stumbled over to the couch and fell face first on the worn leather cushions.
Hopefully whatever this was would pass soon.
It had to. Corey didn’t have anyone up here to rely on, and when he got sick, he took care of himself.
At times like these, he wished he had someone there with him.
More specifically, a significant other. Although he was so used to being alone, she’d probably just disrupt his routine and end up annoying him.
At least, that’s what he tried to tell himself. He didn’t quite believe it, though. Not after seeing firsthand how happy his friends were with their women.
The next time he opened his eyes, Storm was an inch from his face, staring at him. Corey wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but the living room was pretty dark. Shit. How long had he been out?
Pulling himself up into a sitting position, he groaned. “Oh, hell,” he grumbled, and Storm made a low sound in the back of his throat. “I feel like I got run over by a truck.”
The wolf whined.
“You’re probably hungry, huh? Okay, gimme a sec. I’m hoping the room will stop spinning.”
After a minute, when it didn’t feel like he was on a Tilt-A-Whirl any longer, he forced himself to get up.
The muscle and body aches had worsened, and now he had chills, too.
He gingerly walked over to the kitchen and looked out the large picture window above the sink.
The sun just finished setting and snow whipped against the glass.
Looked like a good couple of inches already covered the ground.
Yeah, he wouldn’t be going anywhere for the next few days.
Storm watched eagerly as Corey started preparing his dinner. Luckily, he still had enough food already made in a container in the fridge, so all Corey had to do was warm it up. He cooked enough on Sunday to get them through the week, so this was the last of it.
When the microwave dinged, Corey took the bowl out and set it down on Storm’s placemat. “Enjoy, buddy.”
A series of chills racked his body, and he knew he needed to build a fire. Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, he cracked it open and took a swig. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this horrible. But the sooner he built the fire, the sooner he could lie back down again.
The idea of eating caused his stomach to rebel, so dinner was a no-go. He knelt down in front of the hearth and got to work. It wasn’t long before he had a fire raging and the heat helped soothe his chills. Storm walked over and whined, so Corey knew he had to go out.
“Hurry up, buddy,” he encouraged, and opened the front door. An icy wind blew against Corey’s face as Storm ran out and took care of his business. Once the wolf was back inside, he shook the snow from his coat and curled up in front of the roaring fire.
“Good boy,” Corey mumbled and dropped back down on the couch.
The effort to build a fire and prepare Storm’s dinner had sapped his energy.
His eyes closed and he fell asleep almost instantly, which was rare for him.
Although he hated being sick, he was grateful for the brief reprieve from the ghosts and his guilt.