A Place to Hide, page 2
It was him.
The man who had the same blond hair and blue eyes as her son smiled at her. And she knew her fate.
She was dead.
* * *
GRACE BOLTED UPRIGHT, her eyes searching the darkness.
A dream. It had only been a dream.
She pressed a hand to her chest and forced her breathing to slow. She reached her free hand to the lamp and turned on the light. What time was it? Six p.m. flashed on the digital clock. She’d slept for well over an hour.
“Liam.” He should be awake by now.
She reached for her son, but beside her the bed was empty...and cold.
Fear slammed into her chest. She jumped from the bed and looked around the room. “Liam!”
She never went to sleep like that. And even if she did, any move or sound he made generally woke her.
She searched the room. Hurried to the parlor. No Liam.
He wasn’t anywhere in their private space.
Her gaze landed on the door. It was ajar. As she rushed across the room and through that door, she reminded herself that her little boy, who was not yet three, could not unlock the entry doors. He would be somewhere in the house. The realization should have calmed her but it did not.
“Liam!” She moved from room to room, the kitchen, the dining room, calling his name.
Then she spotted him.
He stood in the lobby staring out the window nearest the fireplace. She rushed to him.
“Liam.” She dropped to her knees and turned him toward her, visually examining him from head to toe. “Are you all right?”
He nodded his curly blond head. “I watching the man in the snow.”
Grace frowned and stared out the window. It had snowed. Not so much really, just a thin coat of white. She shuddered. She’d been dreaming about running through the snow. The memory had left a bitter taste in her mouth and a cold stone in her gut.
She scanned the landscape as best she could with nothing but the moonlight and a few exterior lights that weren’t nearly bright enough, she decided. “I don’t see anyone.”
“Gone. Gone,” her little boy said with a giggle.
Had he been dreaming and only imagined a figure in the darkness?
Grace’s gaze searched the snow once more...and her heart stalled.
There, in the newly fallen blanket of snow where the cobblestones led to the front entrance, were tracks. Too large to be any sort of animal. Too well formed to be anything other than boots or shoes.
Liam was right. Someone had been here.
She rose to her feet and surveyed the yard and the steps. She could see where the prints seemed to come from the thick line of shrubbery and crossed the yard, then came up the steps to disappear since there was no snow on the covered porch.
“Me want it.”
Grace shook herself. She knelt back down to her little boy. “I’m sorry, sweetie. What did you say?”
“Me want it.” Liam pointed to the window.
Grace followed his chubby finger to the porch, but there was nothing there. “Mommy doesn’t see anything.”
“Down there!” he urged.
She leaned closer to the glass and stared at the stone floor of the porch. The small silver object glinted in the light from the window and had her heart pitching to a near stop.
A heart-shaped locket on a chain.
She didn’t have to touch it or even to see it more clearly to know it would be vintage and blood would be smeared on the chain and maybe inside the locket.
Grace grabbed Liam and ran back to their private space. She closed the door, sat Liam on the floor and engaged the security bar she had ordered just for a moment like this. She backed away, tugging Liam with her.
She had to call the police.
Entering the digits, she collapsed on the floor and pulled Liam into her lap. When the dispatcher answered, she said, “We’ve had an intruder on the property at the Lookout Inn on Mockingbird Lane. Can you please send someone?”
She had wanted to sound calm but her voice had been thin and hollow. Liam stared at her, his face ready to pucker into tears. He was frightened. She should have been more careful not to upset him.
When she’d answered all the dispatcher’s questions and had the promise that a cruiser was en route, Grace ended the call. She held tightly on to the cell phone while hugging Liam to her chest.
“What’s wrong, Mommy?”
“Everything’s okay, buddy.” She rocked back and forth as much for her own benefit as for her child’s.
She told herself it couldn’t have been him. He was in police custody awaiting trial.
He would never be free again after what he’d done. There was no reason for her to be afraid...none.
But what if she was wrong? She had been wrong before.
* * *
A MERE FIFTEEN minutes later, the police had arrived and begun the search of the property outside the inn. Before the deputies had started roving the landscape, she, with Liam on her hip, had slipped onto the porch and picked up the locket. She’d done so using a plastic sandwich baggie so as not to touch it. She’d opened it using the bag to protect her fingers. A bloodstained picture of her had been trimmed down to fit inside. She’d closed it instantly. Then she’d taken it to the kitchen and hidden it under the sink. She’d distracted Liam with two chocolate coins. The child loved the gold-wrapped goodies—pirate booty, he would say. The kind in his favorite animated movie. She hated using sweets to bribe him, but sometimes there was just no other option.
The entire search by the police took an hour since the deputies felt it best to have a look around inside as well. Grace didn’t have a problem with that. She wanted to be certain whoever had been out there was gone. She told herself again that it couldn’t be him.
Impossible.
If she really believed this, why was she hiding the locket from the deputies?
Grace dismissed the thought. It had to be a coincidence. Some local yahoo who was reliving Halloween. Or a true crime fanatic who liked playing games. Her nightmare had dominated the headlines and online news feeds for months. The bastard who’d created that nightmare had quickly gained a bizarre cult following. The first Halloween after she escaped him, some manufacturer had even created and sold a mask of his face. How sick was that?
She shivered. This had to be some serial killer buff playing games. Couldn’t be anything else.
But was her certainty only wishful thinking?
Finally, one of the deputies—Scott Reynolds—came into the main parlor to announce they were finished.
“Beyond the tracks, we didn’t find anything,” he explained. “You said your son saw someone.”
Grace looked over at her child, playing with a puzzle at the coffee table that sat between two sofas. “I woke up and he’d climbed out of the bed. I found him in the lobby staring out a window. He said he’d been watching a man in the snow. That’s when I noticed the tracks.”
Reynolds glanced at Liam. “He said a man.”
Grace nodded. “The tracks came up the steps, so I’m guessing the intruder came onto the porch and maybe all the way to the window where Liam was watching.” Her stomach tied into a thousand screaming knots at the idea.
Reynolds lowered into a chair. He glanced at his notepad. “Ma’am, I’m not meaning to pry, but I have to ask—where is his father?” He nodded toward Liam.
Folks in the area knew Grace was a single mother. She’d been here almost two years. She and Liam had fit fairly well into the community, though she had been careful not to get too close to anyone. Keeping a certain distance was essential. Getting close to anyone required a willingness to share history, to be open. She couldn’t do that. At least, not yet.
“He—” she cleared her throat and lowered her voice “—passed away before we moved here.”
Reynolds nodded. “Sorry to hear that.” He made a note on his pad. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to ask Liam a few questions to see if he remembers anything about the man.”
Worry that Liam would mention the object the man left on the porch tore at her. “We could try. He’s more likely to respond to me.” Her child was on the shy side when it came to talking to anyone he hadn’t met before.
Reynolds nodded his understanding. “Just ask him general description questions. Big? Small? Dark? Light?”
Grace nodded. “Okay.”
The deputy prepared to jot down any responses onto his notepad.
“Liam.” He looked up and Grace motioned for him to come to her. “Deputy Reynolds and I have some questions about the man.”
Liam eyed Reynolds speculatively, then walked over to climb into his mother’s lap.
“’Kay.” His fingers went to his mouth. He did that when he was nervous.
“Was the man you saw big?” She nodded to Reynolds. “Tall like the deputy or shorter like Mommy?”
Liam pointed to Reynolds with his free hand.
“So tall like Deputy Reynolds?”
Liam nodded.
“Did you see his hair?”
Liam moved his head side to side. “Hat.” He patted the top of his head.
Reynolds nodded. “Did he wear a hat like mine?” He picked up the baseball-style cap he’d placed on his knee when he sat down.
Liam scooted out of his mother’s lap and ran toward their private quarters.
Reynolds made a face. “You think I scared him off?”
Grace stood. “Give me a moment and I’ll see if he will come back.”
As if her words had summoned him, Liam ran back into the room. He held one of his favorite beanies.
“Like dis.” He held up the beanie.
Reynolds grinned. “All right. Good job, little man.” He jotted down the information. “What about his eyes?” He looked to Liam once more. “Did you see what color his eyes were?”
Liam had warmed up to the deputy now. He touched his own eyes. “Mine.”
Grace’s heart dropped to her feet. “He had blue eyes?”
Liam nodded. “Mine.”
Grace lowered back into her chair for fear her knees would buckle any second.
“Great job!” Reynolds praised the boy. “Was he wearing blue jeans like your mom?”
Liam shook his head. “Like Batman.”
Grace found her voice again. “So black. All over like Batman? Pants and shirt?”
Liam nodded.
“And gloves too?” Grace lifted her hand.
Once more Liam nodded.
“Thank you, Liam,” the deputy said. “You’ve been very helpful.” He closed his notepad and stood. “Ms. Myers, I’ll let you know if we figure anything out, although I have to say we don’t have much to go on. We did take photos of the boot prints and we are questioning neighbors. But considering the gloves, we’re not likely to find prints.”
“I understand.” She stood. “I just appreciate you coming.”
When the deputies were gone, she made Liam a sandwich, poured him a glass of milk and settled him in front of the television. She went to the main kitchen and retrieved the plastic bag from beneath the sink.
She opened it and peered inside. Her gut clenched.
It was the same type of locket the bastard had left behind with his murder victims. Blood smears and all. But why was her picture inside?
Because he wanted her to be his next victim.
With a chill dancing down her spine, she wadded the bag around the damned thing, her eyes closing in defeat.
How could this be? He couldn’t know where she was. But he must. It was the only way to explain this. She wanted to believe that, worst-case scenario, he had located them somehow and sent some paid thug or crazed fan to drop off the locket. But Liam said the man had his eyes. Would he have specifically sought out the help of a man with pale blue eyes? Or had the eyes been colored contacts?
Maybe. The bastard was evil to the core.
He would do anything to terrify her.
Would he send the creep back for another visit? Or worse, to hurt them?
She steadied herself. First, she had to make sure he was still in custody. He had to be. He’d been charged with murder and he’d tried to kill her. Bail had been denied.
If Adam Locke, the infamous Sweetheart Killer, was out, wouldn’t she have heard?
Of course not. She’d given no one her new address or her new name. How could anyone contact her? Her goal had been to disappear.
Since she hadn’t bothered to see what was happening with his trial in a long while, she had no idea if it had even begun. Just hearing his name made her feel ill. Seeing photos of him was more than she could bear.
But now she had no choice.
She had spent the past two years building Liam a safe home here on Lookout Mountain. She had ensured that no one from their old life knew where they were, and no one here knew their true identities.
Was her decision two years ago to disappear—avoiding witness protection or any other support—a mistake? Was keeping her identity here a secret—especially now in light of what had just happened—yet another misstep?
No. She had made the right choices. The only way to protect Liam was for no one anywhere to know their location. As for the locket, until she could be certain this was not some prankster, she wasn’t sharing that detail with anyone.
But then...if Adam had found them and had sent this person, how would she ever keep Liam safe?
Chapter Two
Hamilton County Sheriff’s Substation
Lookout Mountain
Monday, February 19, 9:25 a.m.
Robert Vaughn shuffled through the messages on his desk. How had he received so many calls on a Sunday evening? The last time he’d gotten that many calls in one stretch was on his birthday. The Mountain was generally far too quiet for this much excitement.
Didn’t matter. He couldn’t have answered any of them while transporting a violent criminal. His cell phone had stayed in the console of the SUV he’d been driving—on silent. He’d dropped the prisoner off in Knoxville and headed back, not rolling into his own driveway until four this morning.
The two hours’ sleep he’d gotten before being called to an accident at seven this morning was not enough sleep to have his brain operating on full power, but he hadn’t wanted to take the day off.
More coffee. He needed another shot of caffeine if he was going to survive the morning.
Leaving his closet-sized office, he headed for the break room, which was really just a niche in the corridor leading to the lobby. He refilled his mug and wandered into the small lobby. There was a bench and a coatrack but no room for much else. Beyond this space was another, slightly larger office that was shared by the four other deputies assigned to this substation. Rob was the deputy in charge. The only other space was a storeroom, which served as a multipurpose area. The tight squeeze was all temporary while the new substation for the community was being built. Just more growing pains. The Mountain was expanding.
Rob liked the assignment even with the expansion. He’d been on the mountain for a year, and it still surprised him that he felt completely satisfied here. He’d always considered himself a city boy. So when the opportunity to serve as the deputy in charge of a small community substation had come up, he’d expected to turn it down. But then he’d shocked himself by saying yes.
So maybe it hadn’t been such a shock considering he’d been single for nearly a year and he’d needed change. Having the woman he’d expected to marry take off with a deputy from a neighboring community had proved just a little unsettling. Truth was, he’d felt as if they were drifting apart months before she actually split. Still, his ego had been bruised and he’d moped around for a while. The move had come at a good time.
No regrets to this point. He’d even sold his condo in Chattanooga and rented a small studio apartment only a couple of miles from the substation. When he needed total solitude, he spent a few days at his cabin in the woods, perched on the Tennessee River. He’d changed from a sports car to an SUV. Made sense, anyway. The old truck he’d inherited from his father that stayed at the cabin on the river was not four-wheel drive, and sometimes he needed the extra muscle to get up the mountain.
He spent his time in jeans and muck boots when not on duty. He chuckled and shook his head. Maybe there was something about approaching forty that had changed him. Not that thirty-seven was over the hill, but he damned sure wasn’t getting any younger. If he was totally honest with himself, starting a family was something he’d hoped to do by now, and that hadn’t worked out either.
Banishing that line of thinking, he walked back to his office. Those calls weren’t going to answer themselves.
The first two were easy. Follow-ups on a couple of small burglary cases. Both recently solved. He scheduled a date and time for his range qualifications test. He’d put it off longer than he should have already. Not that he was worried about the test; he was an excellent marksman. It was just carving out the time from his schedule.
A rap on his open door was followed by “Morning, boss.” Deputy Scott Reynolds stood in his doorway.
“Morning, Reynolds.”
“You hear about the excitement over at the inn last evening?”
Rob straightened, going instantly on a higher state of alert. “What excitement?”
“Somebody was creeping around the place, peeking in windows apparently.”
The last of the messages forgotten, Rob pushed to his feet. “Everyone okay?” The image of Grace and her little boy formed in his mind, sending him further on edge.
“Yeah, yeah,” Reynolds assured him. “Whoever was poking around was long gone when we arrived. Ms. Myers was pretty upset.”
“What about the kid?” Rob forced his heart rate to slow. “He okay?” Liam was a cute kid, really cute, and he’d stolen Rob’s heart on day one. He really liked that kid. Liked his mom too, but she kept her distance. Rob respected her wishes. Whatever had broken her trust in relationships, he wasn’t going to push for answers. If she was interested, she would let him know when she felt comfortable doing so. He could be patient. He’d decided very quickly that she was the sort of woman worth waiting for.
