Tracked Through the Woods, page 4
“I see.” Wyatt looked thoughtful. “Maybe we can make a stop in Green Lake. I was hoping to convince one of the cops there to help run the fingerprints I picked up through the system.”
“That should work. I know I said I didn’t want the locals involved, but Sheriff Liam Harland seems like a decent guy. He’s the one who took Franco and Tony into custody.” Her interaction with the Green Lake sheriff had been minimal, but her twin Rachel had nothing but nice things to say about him a few months ago, when she’d helped save her sister’s life. Abby herself hadn’t stayed around long enough to find out.
“Great.” He brightened. “I’m glad to hear that. Let’s hit the road.”
Abby followed Wyatt outside and around the corner of the motel building where he’d left his SUV. As he drove, he used the GPS built into the vehicle to pull up local restaurants.
“Looks like there are a few places to eat before we get to Green Lake. There’s a family restaurant just a mile away.”
“That works.” She thought briefly about her twin sister’s restaurant in Green Lake, it would be great to see her again, but it was best to avoid Rachel now. The last thing she wanted was for her twin to be in danger again because of the Marchese crime family.
Once she found her father, and the threat was over, she’d take her dad to Rachel’s Café to reunite the family. But until then, she needed to stay far away.
The restaurant they stopped in wasn’t very busy. She noticed Wyatt chose a table in the corner, far from the scattered customers who were already seated.
“Coffee?” A pleasant woman in her midforties brought two mugs and a pot of coffee.
“Yes, please,” she and Wyatt said at the exact same time.
The woman laughed and proceeded to fill their mugs. “My name is Clare. Cream and sugar are on the table, I’ll give you a few minutes to look at the menu.”
“Thanks.” Wyatt took a sip of his black coffee, while she doctored hers with cream and sugar. When they were alone again, he said, “I’m ready to order whenever you are.”
“Really?” She eyed him curiously. “Come here often?”
“No, but I like the standard breakfast.” He shrugged, looking slightly embarrassed. “Creature of habit.”
Moments later, they placed their order. She surreptitiously pulled out her disposable phone to check for any missed calls from her father.
There were none.
“When we finish here, we’ll head to the sheriff’s department,” Wyatt said. “How long do we give your dad to show at the house?”
“I don’t know.” She slipped the phone back in her pocket. “You could always leave me at the house while you head to Green Lake to talk to the sheriff.”
“No.” He stared at her with intense green eyes. “We’re sticking together, Abby.”
She sipped her coffee, then nodded. “Okay, fine. But that will delay your investigation.”
“It can’t be helped.” A frown furrowed his brow. “I don’t like knowing your father is in danger.”
“I appreciate that.” She set her coffee aside as Clare returned with their meals. She picked up her fork, then hesitated when she noticed Wyatt had bowed his head to pray.
Her father used to do that when she was young. Then, over the years, he’d strayed from the habit. She’d thought his praying was a holdover from his time with the Amish, but here Wyatt was proving her wrong. It wasn’t just the Amish who prayed before meals. Regular people, even an FBI agent, did.
She set her fork down and bowed her head, too.
“Lord, bless this food we are about to eat,” Wyatt said in a low voice. “And keep us safe in Your care. Amen.”
“Amen.” She lifted her head to meet his gaze. “That was nice.”
“We’re going to need God’s strength to get through this.” He offered a wry smile. “But I’m confident we’ll succeed.”
Abby picked up her fork and took a bite of her eggs, hoping he was right about that.
She desperately needed to believe she and her dad would survive this, too.
* * *
Wyatt dug into his meal, energized by both their plan for the day and the way Abby had prayed with him. Granted, Abby may be simply going through the motions, the way Emma had, but that was okay. It wasn’t as if they’d be together forever.
This was a temporary partnership, just long enough to bring Hawthorne to justice.
Deep down, Wyatt knew that his career would not survive this. Even if he was able to prove Hawthorne’s guilt, working the case on his own may be enough for the leadership within the Bureau to cut him loose.
And if that happened? He’d deal with it. No way was he going to let the possibility of losing his job stop him. Especially since his reputation was tarnished anyway thanks to Hawthorne throwing suspicion on him, deflecting it from himself.
He watched Abby as they ate. Her offer to stay behind bothered him. She’d insisted on going to meet with her father alone, although he planned to be someplace nearby. Yet it made him wonder if she was planning to take off with her father, leaving him to deal with the mess of the Marchese and Raffa families on his own.
In a way, he could understand why she’d be tempted to go with her father, dropping off grid once again. Peter had tried to do the right thing in helping the Feds find and arrest the Marchese family.
Narrowly escaping a murder attempt for his efforts.
Abby finished her meal first. He arched a brow. “Would you like something more?”
“Oh, no thanks.” She blushed. “I missed dinner, but I’m fine now.”
For the first time, he wondered how she and her father had been getting by. “Do you need money? I can give you some.”
“I’m good for now.” She didn’t meet his gaze. “I was planning to pick up a job in Green Lake, but that can wait.”
He made a mental note to make sure she and Peter had what they needed, cash and reliable transportation once this was over. It was the least he could do. He quickly finished his meal, then signaled for the bill.
Five minutes later, they were back on the road. His GPS told him they were fifteen miles from Green Lake, which would put them at the Sheriff’s Department at roughly nine in the morning.
As he navigated the curvy roads, he kept a wary eye on his rearview mirror. He didn’t see anything resembling a tail, but then again, he hadn’t noticed one last night, either. Somehow, the shooter had arrived on the scene, anyway.
And the caller on the disposable phone had wanted to know if it was done.
He’d chosen to take less traveled roads into Green Lake, although as they grew closer to the town, the ability to avoid being followed diminished greatly. Stunning red, yellow and orange fall colors brightened the trees, bringing tourists flocking to the area. They were soon surrounded by other cars.
“Would you mind turning right at the next intersection?” Abby asked.
“I don’t mind, but is there something you’re looking for in particular?”
“We’re fairly close to the area where my dad may be headed,” she admitted. “I thought we could do a quick drive-by, see if the structure is even still there.”
“Okay.” He did as she asked, then turned left on a narrow road that looked as if no one had driven on it in decades. The asphalt was buckled in several areas, revealing large cracks that allowed weeds to grow tall enough to brush the underside of his SUV.
It didn’t look as if a vehicle had gone this way in a very long time.
“Up ahead.” Abby gestured to the right. “There should be a driveway.”
“An overgrown one, I’m sure,” he said wryly. But when he noticed a very narrow opening between two towering trees, he turned in.
Again, the driveway hadn’t been used in months, maybe years. As the drive grew more rocky, he stopped.
“Might be better to go the rest of the way on foot.”
“It looks different from what I remember.” Abby pushed her door open and stepped out. “I thought the house would be right over there.” She gestured to an area up ahead.
Even though there was no sign of anyone lurking nearby, he pulled his weapon and led the way. They’d only gone maybe twenty yards, when he abruptly stopped.
The house, or what was left of it, was a pile of splintered and charred wood. The roof was almost completely gone except for about one quarter of the structure, and only some of the walls remained.
“Oh no!” Abby stared in horror. “It’s been destroyed by a fire.”
“Yeah.” He couldn’t tell if the fire had been the result of lightning, simple carelessness, or arson. The reason the place had burned didn’t matter.
Peter Miller wasn’t hiding out here, that was for sure.
Abby sighed and turned away from the ruin. “I’ll still come back later, in case my dad shows up.”
He batted down a flash of impatience. Their time may well be better spent heading to Chicago after talking to the sheriff in Green Lake, but he told himself if there was even a remote chance of Peter showing up here, they needed to check back as she’d suggested.
“Okay, that’s fine. For now, we’ll keep with the plan of chatting with Sheriff Harland.” He turned and led the way back to the SUV.
Abby looked dejected as they began the jerky and jarring ride back to highway ZZ. As soon as they were off Duncan Lane, he hit the gas to get up to the speed limit.
Abby remained silent for several long moments. “How long ago do you think that fire took place?”
He shook his head. “I have no idea. That’s not my area of expertise.”
She grimaced. “I was really hoping my dad and I could use it as a hideout for a while.”
He shot her a surprised look. “Why on earth would you do that? I thought the plan was for us to stick together.”
There was a pause before she admitted, “Yes, it is. But Chicago is where this all started for my dad. First when he escaped his family, then earlier this year when he was almost killed while heading to your designated meeting place. I’m not sure he’ll be thrilled about going back.”
He swallowed his annoyance, trying to understand the situation from her point of view. He was about to reassure her when he noticed a car coming up fast on the highway behind him.
Not a car but a black truck, much like the one the shooter had been driving the night before.
“Wyatt?” Abby’s tone registered alarm.
“Hang on.” Thankfully, they were both wearing their seat belts. He punched the gas. The SUV leaped forward, putting some badly needed distance between them and the truck.
“How could the bad guys have followed us?” Abby asked, clinging to the door handle as he took the curves in the highway at breakneck speed.
“Don’t know. Call 911.”
She fumbled for her phone to do as he asked. He heard her make the call, while doing everything possible to lose the truck. No matter how fast he took the curves, the truck kept pace behind him.
They were still five miles from Green Lake. He seriously needed to lose this guy!
As he worked hard to keep the SUV on the road, a crack of gunfire came from the truck behind him, shattering the rear window.
FOUR
“Where are you currently located?” The 911 operator’s calm voice helped keep her steady.
“South on highway ZZ heading toward Green Lake.” Cold air blew around them from the broken rear window. Wyatt had his foot to the floor, the SUV careening down the road. A large black truck was visible in the side mirror. “The truck is gaining on us. Please, hurry!”
“I’ll send a deputy to your location,” the dispatcher said. “Is anyone hurt?”
Abby glanced at Wyatt’s tense features as he put more distance between them and the black truck. She was about to reassure the dispatcher they weren’t hurt yet when he abruptly swerved to the left. She fell partially against the passenger door, as far as the seat belt would allow, the phone flying from her fingers.
“I dropped the phone!” The shoulder harness was so tight she couldn’t bend forward to search for it.
“Let it be, just hold on.” Wyatt took another hard turn, the SUV rocking wildly as he did so.
Abby found herself whispering a prayer for God to keep them safe, which was strange because she didn’t normally pray. Yet the plea came easily, and she knew her father would have done the same if he were here.
Glancing at the side mirror, she searched for signs the gunman’s black truck was still behind them, but she couldn’t see anything. Twisting in her seat, she shot a quick glance over her shoulder. The highway behind their SUV was empty. Despite the way they’d lost the gunman, Wyatt didn’t slow down.
“Are you okay?” he asked tersely.
She managed a nod. “Yes, you?”
“Fine. But I want to know how we were picked up so quickly.” His voice was grim. “I have to assume Hawthorne is tracking my phone since I haven’t used my credit card since leasing the car.” He sighed heavily, running his fingers through his hair. “We’ll need to acquire another vehicle, ASAP.”
It was staggering how extensively FBI resources were likely being used to find them. The way things had escalated so quickly made her wonder if they’d ever be safe. The only bright side was that she knew how to stay off grid. And that would mean using cash and disposable phones from this point forward.
A sign for Green Lake caught her attention. “We’re almost there.”
Before Wyatt could respond, she saw flashing red and blue lights approaching from the highway up ahead, wailing sirens splitting the air. She let out a silent sigh of relief, knowing the gunman would likely drop back even further behind now.
“Glad to see the deputies.” Wyatt eased off the accelerator, breathing out a sigh of relief, as well. “That was way too close.”
Her mouth was dry, and all she could do was nod. This skirmish with the assailant could have been much worse. A thought popped into her mind. “Wait a minute. Do you think they were tracking the gunman’s disposable phone?”
Wyatt glanced at her with admiration. “I was just going to suggest that possibility, too.” Then he frowned. “I should have ditched the phone, rather than bringing it to the motel.”
“There’s no way you could have anticipated this,” she protested. It bothered her that he was blaming himself. “Especially since we eliminated the first threat on the highway near the cabin. And we can give the phone to the deputies now that they’re on scene.”
“Yeah, but if we’re going to get to the bottom of this mess, I need to stay three steps ahead of my boss. Don’t worry, I’ll ditch my own phone soon enough.” His words were difficult to hear above the screaming sirens. Wyatt pulled over to the side of the road and flipped on his hazard lights.
Then he surprised her by reaching over to take her hand. “I’m glad you weren’t hurt, Abby.”
She felt strangely breathless at the warmth of his fingers surrounding hers. “I—uh, ditto.”
A smile kicked up the corner of his mouth, as the deputy squads pulled up alongside them. Wyatt released her to push open his door. She noticed he kept his hands in view as he stood. “I’m Special Agent Wyatt Kane with the FBI. The gunman was driving a black Ram truck, the first few digits on the license plate are 5-6-2.”
She was impressed he’d gotten anything on the truck considering they were under fire. Following his lead, she slid out of the passenger door and came around to join him.
“Chief Deputy Garrett Nichols,” the taller of the two said. She remembered him from when she’d helped her twin, Rachel, escape being held at gunpoint by Tony Marchese.
Back when she’d thought the danger from the Marchese family was over.
The attacker finding the cabin and the recently shattered rear window of the SUV proved otherwise.
“I remember you,” Nichols said, pinning Abby with an intense gaze. “You’re Rachel’s twin sister.”
“Yes.” Wyatt’s eyes widened in surprise as she added, “I’m Abby Miller, and I’m working with Agent Kane to find my—er, our father.” It was confusing as Nichols knew Rachel better than she did.
“Can we get somewhere safe before we talk any further?” Wyatt asked. “I don’t like being out in the open like this.”
Deputy Nichols glanced at his colleague, then nodded. “That sounds good to me. We’ll escort you to our headquarters. It’s not far.”
“Good.” Wyatt didn’t argue, his gaze sweeping the area around them. “Let’s go.”
Abby quickly jumped back inside the SUV. Keeping his promise, Deputy Nichols pulled out first. Wyatt followed and the second deputy fell into place behind them. The three vehicles stayed together like cars on a train, all the way to downtown Green Lake.
The familiar landscape gave her a twinge. Abby and her father had traveled from one place to the next for so long that she didn’t consider any of their temporary living arrangements as home.
But she had to admit Green Lake was the closest thing to a homelike atmosphere. Maybe because her sister lived there.
She shook off the sentiment as Wyatt parked in the lot located behind the building. Both deputies climbed out of their respective vehicles to escort them inside. It didn’t take long for Deputy Nichols to take them to an interview room.
“Coffee or water?” Nichols asked.
“Water would be good,” she said.
“Make that two,” Wyatt added.
When they were alone, she leaned over, keeping her voice low. “How much are you going to tell them?”
He looked at her for a long moment. “This is no time to skirt the truth. I’ll have to be honest about everything that’s transpired, while imploring them not to go to my boss.”
She swallowed hard. “What if they do?”
Wyatt shook his head. “That would not be good.”
