Deadly Consequences (19 page)

She felt better for half a second and then her stomach sank. Neil’s killer knew someone else had been in the house. Her clothes were a dead giveaway. Once he found them, It wouldn’t be too hard for him to connect the dots. They’d been finalizing their wedding plans. Taking the computer had been useless. Her name was everywhere. So was her address. He’d been doing a sweep of the house when she drove away. If she went home, she was a dead woman.

A car turned onto the street where she’d parked. Headlights glared in her review mirror. Sierra shrank down into her seat, terrified the killer was on her trail. She held her breath until the car passed.

She plunged into a state of panic, finding it impossible to separate logic from raging paranoia. Nothing had ever prepared her for this type of life or death situation. There had to be somewhere she could hide, someone she could call for help.

Grace was the logical choice.
Which,
she realized,
meant she had to stay as far away from her best friend as possible.
Sierra knew in her gut that Neil’s death hadn’t been random. The monster that’d killed him wouldn’t leave loose ends. There was a fifty-fifty chance the killer was lying in wait for her at her house. When she didn’t come home, he would look through her contacts. She couldn’t risk putting her friends in danger.

There was only one person she could call, one person who could help her.

Chapter Two

Considering the way things ended between them, would he even take her call? There was a good chance he wouldn’t. It had been years since they last spoke.

He still kept in touch with Grace; her friend had inherited him after the break-up. Following in his father’s footsteps, he’d joined the FBI straight out of college. He was a rising star in the bureau, quickly climbing the ranks. According to Grace he lived in Washington now, was something of a big deal. There was even talk of him running for political office in the not too distant future.

Their relationship had been messy, the break up complicated. He’d never forgiven her for choosing Neil over him. Now Neil was dead and he was the only one she could turn to. It was an ugly twist of fate.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, blowing out a long stream of air. Her heart was doing crazy little palpitations in her chest, her palms slick with sweat. She wiped them on her robe and grabbed her cell phone before she lost her nerve. It was insane to be this nervous. They were all adults and she was in trouble. He wouldn’t turn his back on her once he heard her story.

No one could be
that
unforgiving.

Just make the call and get it over with.
Deciding she’d have a better chance of reaching him if she blocked her number, she swallowed her pride and dialed.

A woman answered.
Shit.
She hadn’t expected that.

“I’m looking for Donovan St. James.”

“Van isn’t here right now. May I ask whose calling?”

Van?
The implied intimacy rattled her. The cool, cultured voice set her teeth on edge. Sierra couldn't possibly rattle her problems off to this woman.

“Hello? Are you there?” the woman asked, haughty and impatient.

She scrambled for something to say that wouldn’t make her sound like a complete idiot, “I have information on one of his cases. Do you know how I can reach him?”

“He’s out of town until tomorrow. If you’d care to leave your number, I’ll be sure to give him a message when he checks in.”

A rock formed in Sierra’s stomach. Waiting for a call back wasn’t an option.
She hung up and tossed the phone in her purse.

There was no choice. She had to run.

She’d been driving for hours. It would be dawn soon and she needed a plan. It was hell not knowing how much of a head start she had on the killer. The police might already be swarming over Neil’s property. They would find her things, notice his missing car, put out an APB.

Or not.

She thought about the last thing she’d witnessed. Neil
melting
into the floor. The flames from his body should have ignited a blaze.
But they hadn’t.
The house wasn’t on fire when she escaped. Then again, she hadn’t hung around long to watch. A fire took time to smolder. The house could have turned into an inferno
after
she drove away. It was possible evidence of her presence went up in flames. If the killer were smart, he’d torch the place to cover up the murder.
Wouldn’t he?

Then again, given the coldness in the stranger’s eyes, he might have simply walked away from the crime scene. Maybe Neil’s death was meant to send a message.
But to whom?
She ran her hand through her hair. There were too many questions. Trying to guess at the answers would make her crazy. If she had any chance of remaining sane, she had to focus on what she did know.

It was Friday night. Neil didn’t have any weekend plans, so no one would report him missing. Neil’s remains could conceivably lie undiscovered until Monday when he didn’t show up for work.

Unless the house caught fire and they’d already discovered what was left of his body.

“Damn it.” She banged the steering wheel with the palm of her hand, reminding herself that speculation was pointless. Going back and forth over every possible scenario wasn’t going to do her any good. It was impossible to know whether she had hours or days to vanish.

The sick feeling in the pit of her stomach leapt into her throat, leaving her with a sour taste in her mouth. Not too many hours ago, she’d been in bed with her fiancée, pissed off at his inattentiveness. Now she was thinking of him in terms of his remains.

Sierra pulled over and threw up again on the side of the road.

Cars whizzed past her, people going about their business, like it was an ordinary night. There was nothing ordinary about it. Her life was falling apart, her mind frayed. She slammed shut the car door, collapsing in her seat. If she didn’t get a grip soon on her situation soon, Neil wouldn’t be the only casualty tonight. Her life was on the line too.

Back to square one. She frowned, fingers tapping the steering wheel. She needed a plan…getting rid of Neil’s car and finding a rental would be a good place to start. She had credit cards and cash. Hysterical laughter bubbled up inside her. How the hell was she going to rent a car clad only in a bathrobe?

Holy shit.
A new set of worries blindsided her making her head spin. Rent a car? Why not go ahead and paint a bull’s-eye on her back? Even if she paid in cash, she’d have to provide the rental company with identification. Tracking her would be easy. Heart thundering, she checked Neil’s GPS. It was off. Thank God she hadn’t turned it on without thinking. Her cell phone was a dead giveaway to her location too, wasn’t it? She shoved her hand inside her purse, searching for it. The phone slipped between her trembling fingers three times before she managed to fish it out it. The last call she made was to Donavan, which could work to her advantage. If she were guilty, would she seriously be calling an FBI agent?

Sierra glanced down at her phone. She couldn’t bring herself to toss it out the window. Her life was on it. She pressed the off key praying that was good enough.

Her mind raced as she retraced her steps. She’d taken the skyway out of Chicago. Toll booths were equipped with cameras; there was a record of her crossing the state line into Indiana. If she used an ATM or a credit card anywhere along the way, she was screwed.

How the hell did people vanish?

A horrid gasp echoed in her ears. At first, she didn’t realize it came from her. For a terrifying moment, she couldn’t breathe. She could feel her chest tightening. In a corner of her mind, she realized she was hyperventilating again. Clutching the wheel for support, she warded off the anxiety attack.

The dark road stretched out before her. She’d been driving blind through the night, desperate to put as many miles as she could between her and the killer. She couldn’t think straight and it was getting harder and harder to focus. No surprise since she was operating on fumes and adrenaline. She needed food and sleep, but rest wasn’t an option — not until she was certain the imminent danger was behind her.

The gas gauge veered towards empty. She couldn’t stop for gas in a bathrobe and bare feet. Even out here in the middle of nowhere, her appearance would raise eyebrows. It would also make her easy to remember.

What the hell am I going to do?
She had to get off the highway. Even in the pre-dawn hours, rest stops and main exists would be crowded with tourists and truckers. Too much of a risk. Elwood, Indiana was two miles ahead. She would take her chances there.

It was a ghost town. All the gas stations had shut down tight for the night. She banged her head against the steering wheel, tears trailing down her face.
Something
had to be open. She was about to give up when a distinct shape caught her eye. At the back of a gas station was a dark green charity bin, where people dropped off used clothes. It was overflowing.

“Thank you, God,” she whispered, pulling up alongside it. There was no time to be fussy. Anything would be better than a bathrobe. Luck was on her side. She found a couple pair of worn out jeans that looked close to her size, a few t-shirts, two plaid shirts, and an oversized denim blouse. She changed in the car. The pants had to be rolled up at the waist and the shirts were a few sizes too big for her small frame; she wanted to hug the person who had dropped them off. Now she could blend in.

The clothes gave her confidence. She got back on the highway and had just enough gas to make it to the next rest stop. While the gas was pumping, she headed into the mini mart. A tiny bell announced her arrival.

A tired looking man glanced up at her from behind the counter, a newspaper spread out in front of him. His eyes followed her long enough to make her want to bolt. She snuck a look at him when she passed by, telling herself to calm down. There was no way Neil’s murder would be in the paper yet, and it wouldn’t have made national news.
This was Indiana, close enough for his death to be newsworthy,
she reminded herself.

She wasn’t sure what to do.
Murders might be a dime a dozen in Chicago, but most were a result of gunshots, stabbing or the occasional strangulation. Neil’s death would certainly make the local news.

The bell jangled. She almost jumped out of her skin, afraid the police had found her. What if the clerk pushed a panic button hidden beneath the counter? Her eyes darted towards the door. It was a young couple, giggling, and holding hands. She winced, fighting back tears.
She and Neil had been the same way once, goofy with love.
Things had grown tense between them in recent months. It seemed they were always at each other’s throats. She’d hoped it was a phase, and that they’d get back to normal. Now they’d never have the chance.

She realized she was staring when the girl looked in her direction and blushed. Sierra quickly turned away, noticing the clerk was watching them with the same dull-eyed stare he’d focused on her. She trembled with relief. The attendant viewed all his customers with suspicion; he hadn’t singled her out.

Still, she’d need a better disguise. The clothes were good, just not good enough. Keeping one eye on the security mirror mounted high overhead, she roamed the aisles, picking up a couple of baseball caps and two pairs of sunglasses. Her eyes lingered on a package of scrunchies. She’d never been a ponytail girl, but what the hell. It would add to her disguise.

The young couple stepped up to the counter to pay. Condoms and Pepsi. The girl fidgeted with embarrassment, her boyfriend draped his arm over her shoulder and told her to relax. It was a wakeup call for Sierra. The teen-age girl was trying too hard to be inconspicuous; her nervous energy drew attention to her. She might as well have stood under a spotlight.