Chapter Three #2
“Do you know who the other driver was?” Ryker asked.
She hesitated, and Dalton saw the pain cross her face. “I . . . I’m not sure,” she said.
“But you thought you recognized him?” Ryker prompted.
“I did. But it can’t possibly be him.” She shook her head. “It must be my imagination.”
“Who do you think it might be?” Ryker asked.
Roxanne ran her tongue over her swollen bottom lip. “This man has been in prison almost fifteen years.”
Dalton blinked. Roxanne knew someone in prison? Someone who would do something like run her off the road?
“Maybe he got out of prison,” Ryker said. “We can check.”
She looked at Ryker, eyes wide with alarm. “That’s impossible,” she said. “I was told he’d never be free again.”
Ryker studied her a moment. “What was your relationship to this man?” he asked, his tone more gentle.
She looked down at her lap. “His name is William Ledger,” she said.
Dalton had to strain to hear the words. Even then, he wasn’t sure he heard her right. The name didn’t mean anything to him.
Ryker’s expression grew grim. He closed his notebook and stood. “I’ll check on Ledger for you and we’ll talk more later,” he said. “In the meantime, let’s get you the medical care you need.”
The ambulance pulled up and Roxanne was loaded in. While the others began packing gear, Dalton found Ryker. “Who is William Ledger?” he asked.
“I’m not sure,” Ryker said. “If he’s who I think he is, she’s right—he went to prison a long time ago and shouldn’t be out.”
“What did he do?”
“I don’t want to say until I know for sure. You were first on scene, right?”
“Yes. And there was a man here. An older man with short, graying blond hair and a mustache. He drove a lifted pickup truck with oversize tires and welded iron bumpers front and rear.”
“How old was he?”
“I don’t know. I’m not good at guessing ages. Maybe late forties. Early fifties?”
“How tall?”
“Shorter than me. Stocky—with broad shoulders. Maybe five-eight or five-nine.”
“Can you tell me his eye color? Any distinguishing characteristics?”
Dalton shook his head. “No. I didn’t see him that long.”
“Did he have an accent? What did he sound like?”
“He asked me who I was—or rather, he demanded to know. But I didn’t hear any particular accent. I told him I was with search and rescue and he glared at me, shoved me over, ran to his truck and drove away.” Dalton looked in the direction of the retreating ambulance. “What is this all about?”
“Roxanne may be the only one who can answer that question.”
He wanted to see Roxanne again, but after today, would she want to see him? Maybe she would associate him with an upsetting incident. Once again, he had no idea what to say. Computers were so much easier to figure out than other people.
“You don’t have a concussion. That’s good news.
” The emergency room doctor, a young Hispanic woman with a braid of black hair and kind eyes, smiled at Roxanne.
“You’re probably going to be pretty sore, but rest, ice and anti-inflammatories should help your shoulder feel better in a couple of weeks.
See your regular doctor if you have any further problems.”
“I don’t have a regular doctor,” Roxanne said. “I just moved here.”
“Then make an appointment with the clinic in Eagle Mountain. They should be able to help you.” The doctor stood, preparing to leave. “Do you have someone who can pick you up and take you home?”
No. She had no one. Knew no one. “I’ll find someone,” she said. A taxi or an Uber, maybe? Did they have those in Eagle Mountain?
The doctor left. Roxanne sat on the side of the gurney, wondering what to do.
She ached all over, but worse was the fear that made her heart gallop every time she closed her eyes and remembered William Ledger’s face.
He had been smiling—the way he used to smile.
Pretending to be so caring, but he had never cared about anything but making her do what he wanted.
She would never forget that smile, even if it was set in an older face.
“Ms. Byrne? There’s someone here to see you.
” She opened her eyes and saw a slight man in scrubs looking at her curiously.
She looked past him and recognized Dalton Ames.
He wasn’t wearing the black-framed glasses he had on when she had first met him, but was otherwise the same.
“Dalton?” She stood. “What are you doing here?”
“Danny told me you probably wouldn’t be kept at the hospital,” he said. “So I came to see how you were doing. I thought you might need a ride home.”
“Yes, I need a ride. That . . .that’s so thoughtful. How did you . . .?” She frowned and shook her head. “I remember now. You were there. By my car. Talking to me.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t climb up there and get you out right away,” he said. “But it wouldn’t have been safe for either of us.”
She shuddered, thinking how precarious her position must have been. “Just knowing someone was there, and that help was on the way, was good,” she said. “Thank you.”
“How are you doing?” he asked.
“I’m sore, but the doctor says I don’t have a concussion.”
“Still, something like that must have shaken you up,” he said. When she didn’t reply right away, he added, “But you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
She nodded. “Thanks for understanding.” Of course he was curious. People always were. But once they knew what had happened to her, they always saw her differently. She didn’t want that with this man. Not yet.
“When you’re ready, we can go,” he said.
He waited while she gathered her belongings, then an aide with a wheelchair transported her to the hospital’s front door, where she was allowed to stand and walk on her own.
Dalton hovered at her side. He didn’t touch her, but she sensed he was prepared to catch her if she started to fall.
It was comforting, having him standing there.
She felt a little unsteady, but she didn’t fall, and soon they were standing beside a bright red Jeep with Alpine Jeep Tours stenciled in the back window.
“My parents own a Jeep tour and rental business,” he said when he noticed her reading the sign.
“I guide for them and usually drive one of our fleet when I’m not working. ”
“So, you give guided tours?” she asked.
“Yeah.” He offered a shy smile. “Maybe I can give you a tour sometime, since you’re new to the area. We take people into the mountains, show them the scenery, visit ghost towns and old mines and share some of the history of the area.”
“I thought you worked in IT,” she said. Wasn’t that what May had said?
“I handle all the computer stuff for the Jeep business.” He held the passenger door open for her and she slid in, then he walked around to the driver’s seat.
“And I design software. I designed the reservation system my parents use, and the via ferrata across town is using it now. Of course, my sister is marrying the owner of that place, so it’s not like it was a hard sell.
But I’ve got other businesses interested in it.
And right now I’m working on software for first responders.
Eagle Mountain Search and Rescue is beta testing the program. ”
She heard the excitement about his work in his voice and the touch of pride. “That’s great that you’re able to take your experience with search and rescue and Jeep rentals and use it to tailor software to the needs of those endeavors,” she said. “It’s technical, but it’s also really creative.”
“Well, sure,” he said. “People who think tech isn’t creative don’t know anything about it.”
“People I know never understand why I find writing code interesting,” she said. “I try to tell them it’s all about finding ways to solve real problems, but they don’t see it.”
“Oh, I get that, too,” Dalton said. “Everybody cares about the results of what we do, but their eyes glaze over if I try to explain how it’s done.”
For the rest of the drive to Eagle Mountain, they discussed the ins and outs of software development, testing and troubleshooting. Roxanne began to relax. Work was the one area in her life where she rarely second-guessed herself. Coding was logical and predictable, unlike other people.
But she fell silent as they neared the scene of her accident, her body tensing as her mind replayed the moments before the collision. Dalton glanced over at her. “That must have been terrifying,” he said. “Being run off the road.”
“Yes.” She had a hard time getting the word out, the muscles of her throat had clenched so tightly.
“But you survived it,” he said. “You’re going to be okay.”
She closed her eyes, the words the same ones she had told herself so many times, especially in the early days, after she had escaped from Ledger. “You’re right,” she whispered. “I’m a survivor.”
He didn’t ask what she had survived beyond the accident. He didn’t ask about the man who had driven the truck, or why the sight of him had shook her so. He didn’t tell her why she shouldn’t be afraid or how she needed to put the past behind her. He merely listened and . . .accepted.
She directed him to her house. When he turned into the driveway she indicated, they had to maneuver around a large moving van. “What’s going on?” she asked, alarm clear in her voice.
“Is that your house?” he asked, indicating a blue-and-white building about the size of a garden shed.
“No, mine is the green house over there.” She pointed across the drive. “I guess I have a new neighbor.”
A petite woman with bright red hair emerged from the blue house. She looked their way, then started toward them. Dalton rolled down the window. “Sorry about the moving truck,” she said. “They should be gone in half an hour or so.” She glanced from Dalton to Roxanne. “Are you my neighbors?”
“I am.” Roxanne leaned forward. “I’m Roxanne.”
“I’m Kara. Kara Lee.” Kara’s smile was tentative. “I’m glad there’s someone else out here,” she said. “I’ve been a little nervous about living somewhere so remote.”
“I’ve only been here a few days myself,” Roxanne said. “But it’s very peaceful.”
“That’s good to hear.” Kara glanced over her shoulder. “I’d better help get the rest of my things unloaded. But I’ll see you around a lot, I’m sure.”
“It was good to meet you,” Roxanne said.
Dalton continued up the driveway and pulled the Jeep close to the door. “She seemed nice,” he said.
“She did.” Roxanne sighed. “It’s kind of a relief to have someone in that house now. Like she said, it doesn’t feel so isolated.”
Dalton turned his attention to her house. “This is a cute place,” he said.
“I like it.” She put her hand on the door to open it, but didn’t move right away. “Thanks for the ride,” she said. “I wasn’t sure how I was going to get home.”
“I was actually on my way to see you when I came upon the wreck,” he said. “I mean, I was looking for your place, hoping to find you.”
She frowned. “Why?”
“Because I wanted to ask you out.”
He couldn’t have surprised her more if he had told her he was from another planet. Not that men hadn’t asked her out before, but Dalton didn’t even know her. “Oh.”
He shifted to face her more. “So, maybe my timing is terrible, but do you want to go out sometime? Get dinner or something?”
She opened her mouth. Closed it again. She was tempted to say yes, but she knew very little about him.
And he knew even less about her. Once he heard her whole story, he was liable to run in the opposite direction.
It had happened before. Best to save them both the trouble.
“I need to hold off on dating anyone right now,” she said.
“Until I get some things settled in my life.”
What was she thinking, inviting more questions? She braced herself to come up with an explanation of what she needed to settle. Everything didn’t seem an appropriate answer.
“Yeah, I get it. Bad timing.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Forget I asked.”
His awkwardness charmed her. “I won’t forget,” she said. “And I hope I’ll see you again.”
His eyes brightened and she felt that look in the pit of her stomach. Smolder, May had called it. Was that what this feeling was? Not burning, but an unfamiliar warmth.
“Yeah,” he said. “I’d like that.”
“Yes.” She opened the car door, but still didn’t get out.
“Will you be okay?” he asked. “Here by yourself?”
“Yes.” She had good locks, and she knew how to defend herself. She would be all right. Ledger was devious and even dangerous, but she also knew something else about him. The man was a coward.
But Roxanne—when it really mattered, Roxanne was brave. She was a survivor.