18. Dana
The drive to their cabin was a quiet one. I told them everything Gerri told me about the grow op, but no one asked any questions. Jack kept his eyes forward while Michael watched our rearview mirror and checked every street we passed. Occasionally his eyes met mine, but they didn’t linger for long.
Their priorities are elsewhere.
My priority was sitting in my lap, and I spent the entire drive looking at my backpack, wishing I had left the drive in its hiding spot.
We have reason to believe Matteo Sparr is close by, Michael had said in the coffee shop, and everything after that bombshell blurred together.
How could I have been so stupid?
After I tried to run this morning and the almost-hit in my shop, these guys won’t let me out of their sight long enough to destroy the files I’m carrying. Gripping my hands tighter around the bag in my lap, I know my only option is to hold on to it and wait for the moment to present itself.
After Jessa, Zane’s program is the one thing Maxwell wanted most in this world. Jessa died keeping it from him, and now I’m scared I will have to do the same to keep it from his father.
Exhaustion settles into my bones. The running, fighting, and secrets carry weight, and it’s crushing me.
There are no other cars in front of the Miller cabin when we arrive, and I listen to the guys exchange their surprise that the other two on their team aren’t there as we approach the front door.
But Logan’s there, and as soon as we enter he leads the conversation, telling us Grey and Eagle never returned and haven’t checked in. Link has no updates on a different situation they are tracking, and I take a step back to lean against the closed door. My actions catch Logan’s attention, and he narrows his eyes at me over Jack’s shoulder.
He has to know I tried to run. Maybe he thinks their disappearance is my fault. I guess, in some twisted way, it is. They came out here looking for me.
“I’m going to hold on to this for a while.” I’m not fast enough, and Logan pulls my backpack out of my grasp and walks away from me.
I force myself to stay calm. Fighting to keep it will only alert him that it’s more important than I’m letting on, and he probably took it because he thinks I won’t run without it. So I let him walk to the middle of the room and drop it onto a round table.
Michael points to a large couch in front of a fireplace, and I take his cue, walking past my backpack and sitting down.
“Where’s their vehicle?” Jack’s words pull Logan’s eyes off me.
I was right to not take their car when I ran earlier. I remembered Michael telling me they tracked the car I stole the morning I left their base. They must have all their vehicles tagged.
Michael walks up behind them, glancing over shoulders at what has their attention.
“That’s where the kid and I found the abandoned vehicle with out-of-state plates yesterday.” Michael must be talking about when he left with Tyler and Kaley took me to Dale’s. “How long have they been there?”
“The whole time. They haven’t moved. No check-ins. Something’s wrong.” As Logan finishes talking, an alarm beeps, and all three men look toward a computer screen facing away from me before Logan taps a key, turning off the sound. Then they move toward the front door.
“What is he doing here?” Michael hisses through his teeth as a voice calls out from the driveway.
“Hello?”
When I recognize Dale’s voice, my eyes shoot up as fast as I do, and I run toward the door, placing myself directly in everyone’s path.
“Dale? Is that you?” I crack the door an inch and watch him walk toward the cabin. “Just a minute. Stay right there.” Opening the door a little further, I hold my hand out, asking him to stop advancing, and he does. I speak over my shoulder, into the room. “Lower your guns. He’s okay. Just give me a second.”
Turning back to the door, I open it further before a hand shoots out from behind me, slamming the door shut and pulling me back into the room.
I spin to meet Michael’s hard stare, and he cocks his head, waiting for me to challenge him. I don’t. Raising my hands, I back away and let him take the lead, and he waits until I’m far enough back before opening the door again.
“What are you doing out here, Dale?” I watch the back of Michael’s head as he looks around the side of the cabin and into the yard.
“I heard what happened in town, and I have some information for you. Look, guys, I don’t know what’s going on, but I get the feeling I don’t want to be standing out here in the open for long.”
Jack and Logan holster their guns, and Michael takes a step back from the door and waves Dale into the room. His eyes meet mine, and he comes right over to stand beside me.
“Are you okay, Ki—Dana?” Lifting my chin with his fingers, Dale turns my head from side to side then up, and he winces at the marks on my neck before swiveling his head to the guys in warning.
“It’s—I’m okay. It wasn’t them.” I lower my voice.
“I know.” A war rages behind his eyes, but he doesn’t push for anything further.
“You said you have information.” Logan draws Dale’s attention away from me. His tone is suspicious.
“Oh, right. Listen, there was a new face at the barn early this morning. Didn’t stay long, didn’t talk to anyone. Came in, had a coffee, and left. Which is odd, because you have a coffee shop in town, and, well, everyone knows my coffee is shit.” Dale pushes his hands into his jeans pockets as his eyes jump between the guys.
“What did he look like?” Jack steps closer to the couch.
“Well, he looked like he was on edge. He had light, short, wavy hair, a bit over six feet tall. Muscular.” As Dale gives his description, Jack pulls out his phone and swipes his finger over the screen.
“Is this him?” Jack faces his phone to Dale, and I catch the image of the guy who attacked us at the shop.
That photo must have been taken after he died.
Dale is already nodding. “That’s the guy. Shit. What happened?” His eyes are growing bigger by the second.
Jack ignores Dale’s question and looks at Logan with a nod.
“Is that who attacked you at your place?” Dale turns his attention to me, and I open my mouth to answer.
But Michael’s hand shoots out between us, forcing me to take a step away from Dale. “How do you know she was attacked at the shop?”
Dale instantly puts his hands up as he takes a step back of his own. “Woah. Wait. Gerri told me what happened.” His eyes meet mine, pleading with me to vouch for him, and I step toward Michael to diffuse everyone’s nerves.
Placing my hand on Michael’s arm, I say, “He’s okay. I told you, Gerri is one of the ladies who saved me.” I lift my chin toward the image on Jack’s phone.
“Look, guys, I don’t want any trouble. None of us do. You came to our town, remember?” Dale looks at all of them while he speaks, turning his back on me, shielding me from everyone in the room. “We’re just trying to protect our own.” Turning his head, he catches my attention. “All of our own.”
I know what he’s hinting at, and it fills me with conflicting emotions. If I had managed to keep under everyone’s radar and stay lost, I think I would have grown to like it here.
But a grow op? I can’t wrap my head around this new development. In the few minutes I had with Gerri and the ladies, they spoke about it like it was nothing more than a book club, but for cannabis.
“We don’t have time for this.” Logan breaks the tension as he addresses Jack and Michael. “We need to check out their last location”—he points at the computer—“and no one goes alone. That means one of you two is coming with me.”
Jack and Michael both speak up, saying they aren’t going to leave my side.
“What if I went?” Dale cuts in to the conversation, and all eyes turn to him.
“I don’t—” Logan tries to interject, but Dale cuts him off.
“Look, you don’t know me, but I can help. And helping you protects Dana. We all have our secrets here; I can hold my own.” The weight behind Dale’s words surprises me. He’s speaking about me like I’m family, and this is the first time since Michael and his team arrived that I don’t want to run away.
We really know nothing about each other, yet everyone I’ve met in this town has been wonderful to know, and I wonder if maybe it’s just me who hasn’t gotten to know them yet.
Michael and Jack still haven’t stepped up to leave with Logan, and he looks between them, clenching and releasing his fingers into fists as he waits.
No one makes a move.
Logan takes a deep breath. “It’s settled then.” His tone is clipped. “Dale, you’ll stay here, and both of you”—he points at Michael and Jack—“are going to check out the spot together.” Before anyone has a chance to argue, Logan raises his hands. “No further discussion. MOVE OUT.”
Anger flares, but no one says a thing, and I take a step back from the group to sit on the couch and put some space between me and everyone else in the room.
Jack and Logan walk away from us and over to their equipment, and Dale takes a seat near me while watching everyone work.
Only Michael stays still, and I sneak a look at him, watching as he stands, faces away from me, and pinches his fingers together before finally turning to face me.
“I—” It’s always the words we don’t say that matter the most. Michael’s eyes jump to Dale, who shifts his body and looks away from us before Michael speaks again. “Look, Dana. Listen to Logan. He will do whatever he can to keep you safe. I know you two don’t see eye to eye, but there are a lot of things you don’t know. Just try. Please.”
Looking past Michael’s midsection, I watch Logan as he checks equipment with Jack, then bring my attention back and nod.
Michael turns and joins his team. My eyes fall to my feet, staring at my secondhand shoes. Dried droplets of blood cover the canvas near my pinkie toe.
The leather chair creaks under Dale’s weight as he turns to face me.
“Don’t.” I shake my head, and his eyebrows go up.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t ask, Dale. If I tell you anything, they might kill you too.”
“Who might?”
I know what he’s doing, but I simply shake my head.
“You’ll tell me when this is all over.” It wasn’t a question.
I shrug. I have nothing to lose. There’s a good chance I won’t be here when this is all over. “Sure, Dale. I will.”
“Can you shoot a gun?” Logan’s voice startles me, and I clutch my heart to stop it from jumping out of my rib cage and running away.
His eyes are on Dale, and the door closes behind him. Jack and Michael have left.
“Yes.” Dale stays seated.
“I never said what kind of gun,” Logan counters suspiciously.
“It doesn’t matter,” Dale mutters as he glances uncomfortably around the room.
Logan shifts his attention between us like he used to with Jessa and me last year. He’s assessing Dale’s answer. I imagine there aren’t many people who just happen to know how to shoot any gun.
Without pushing the conversation, Logan leaves us and continues checking and packing items on the table.
The crack of the heat splitting a log draws my attention to the fireplace, and my thoughts dance with the flames as they lick the air.
Before, running was easy. Even when it was Jessa and I, it was easier than this. There are too many variables now, and I am alone. Two of Michael’s team are missing, and Stan is dead. Then there’s the rest of the town. How did everything become so—complicated?
I sneak a look toward the table to make sure my backpack is still close by. I’ll focus on getting away from this town first, then I’ll properly destroy Zane’s program. Jack searched my bag when they first found me. It probably hasn’t occurred to them to search me again, and I don’t want to remind anyone by hovering around it.
“There are a lot of secrets in this town, Dana.” Dale sounds remorseful. It feels like I’m looking at him for the first time.
That’s what happens when you put up walls. You don’t give yourself the chance to get to know the people on the other side.
We sit in silence for close to twenty minutes before Dale lowers his voice and leans toward me in his seat. “I’m hiding from a crime family. Have been for over twenty years. I won’t tell you which one or why, but I will tell you: you’re the only one here who knows that, and I’m not even the most interesting person in this town.”
“Why are you telling me?” Blinking rapidly, I look toward Logan, who is checking his computers, unaware of our conversation.
“Because like recognizes like, and I get the feeling you need to trust someone right now.”
A sigh escapes me at his accurate assessment, and my eyes burn as they fill with tears. I wipe my face with my sleeve before they fall, then drop my hand back to my lap. It lands in Dale’s palm, and he gives my fingers a little squeeze.
“Stan’s dead.” Keeping that from Dale was eating away at me. He tenses as I confess, “He tried to help me, and he died because of me. I don’t want anyone else to?—”
“Oh, sugar.” His arm reaches around my shoulders, and I let my limbs go limp as he pulls me into him.
I don’t move. Michael’s comfort last night and Dale’s embrace right now feel like a luxury I’ve gone too long without, and I sit silent in his arms as he slowly rocks in place. Long minutes pass as I watch the fire, and I almost feel like everything is going to be okay before?—
“What? NO!” Logan frantically taps at his keyboard.
I stand up, and Dale rises with me. Logan is usually composed, cocky even. The expression on his face right now terrifies me.
I’ve seen that look once before—the morning Jessa died.
“What’s happening?” I take a couple of steps toward Logan, and Dale comes to a stop behind me.
“It was a trap.”