Emmaline immediately dropped the bags she was carrying in shock and slunk back against the wall.
“Who are you? What are you doing in my house?” She said quickly, her eyes drawn to the fire quietly burning behind me.
“I was going to ask you the same thing. Why are you here?”
“What are you burning?” Her voice had risen to high pitched hysteria. “What’s in the sink?”
“What are you doing in my house, Emma?” Her eyes finally slid up to my face at the familiar use of her name. I watched hesitant recognition dawn there.
“Sam?”
“Yeah. Now answer my question. Why are you in my house? Where’s my mom?”
“Your…mom?” She repeated.
“Yes, she lives here…you know: tall, brunette, always trying to feed everyone, married to the sheriff?”
Emmaline finally seemed to regain her composure. She straitening up against the wall but refused to move away from it.
“Actually, I’m married to the sheriff. He did mention you were in town, come to think of it.” She said.
“You’re married to my dad?” My stomach heaved.
“Yes. For about seven years now.” She crossed her arms in front on her and smirked. What had he done to her? Emmaline was never like this when I’d known her; she had been sweet and friendly and shy – it was the reason I had crushed on her so hard.
With a sinking feeling I remembered that my dad had known all that because we’d spoken about it my feelings for Emmaline at length. Jimmy’s words came back to me unbidden from days before: Walker has a thing about playing sick games with his kids.
I turned and threw up in the sink, dousing what little fire now remained in the pile of ash and twisted glass.
“That’s revolting. What were you burning in my sink?” She asked again.
“Where is my mother?” I asked, spitting out the last of the bile.
“She died years ago. Less than a year after you were run out of town.” Emma said. She was beginning to sound annoyed…and bored.
“My mother is dead?”
“Yes. Dead.” Emma clipped.
It was almost a relief. If my mom had been gone for so long it meant that she hadn’t been a part of any of this. But the pain was lurking there, too. I could only hope that her death had been natural because if it hadn’t been all I had was the prayer that the sheriff had shown mercy to his wife of 22 years.
“I am his wife now.” Emma’s shrill voice cut through the fog of grief that had surrounded me.
“How did she die?” I asked.
“I don’t remember,” Emmaline rolled her eyes. “It was so long ago, but it’s not like you were here so what do you care?”
“You need to get out of here, Emma. He’s dangerous.”
She scoffed. “My husband would never hurt me. I’m the mother of his child. He loves me.”
“You have a kid? With my dad?”
“Yes.” She smiled. “She’s at daycare right now. And she’s his whole world. No one else compares. Not even you.”
“Oh really? No one else compares? What’s her name, Emma?” I asked. Emmaline faltered and the smile on her face turned snide.
“I’m not telling you that.”
“What is her name?”
She shrugged. “What did you burn in my sink?”
“I burned every picture of Whitney Walker that was in this house.”
Emmaline’s eyes widened and her face paled almost immediately. “You can’t- you didn’t-“ She stuttered.
“Yes. Every picture of Whitney is gone.”
“He doesn’t have backups of those photos,” she breathed. “He’ll come after you. He’ll kill you.”
“Not if I kill him first.”
Emmaline pulled a phone out from her back pocket and began scrolling through the numbers. She laughed, but it was disingenuous – high pitched and nervous. “He’ll kill you. He’ll kill you when I tell him what you’ve done.”
“You tell the sheriff I’m coming for him.” I nodded at her as she dialed.
Emmaline put the phone up to her ear. I didn’t try to stop her; it was too late now, anyway. My eyes flicked back to the sink – I couldn’t hide this. The sheriff knew I was in town; he probably even knew what I was here for. But – if Jimmy Prescott could be believed – he didn’t know that I knew where to find him. And that was the only thing I had going for me. That and the prayer that the sheriff wouldn’t come tearing down out of the mountains when he found out what I did. I needed him there, where it had all begun.
Emma was moving slowly toward the backdoor, no doubt ready to bolt as soon as she reached it. The line suddenly connected and Emmaline began speaking very quickly. “Send everyone to the house. He’s-”
Before she could get another word out Emma was suddenly on her back on the ground, her phone spinning across the floor toward my foot. Kimber had come through the sliding door so fast I didn’t even realize what had happened until I saw the mess of red hair on top of a screaming Emma. The line was still connected so I smashed the phone under the heel of my boot.
By the time I looked back toward Emmaline, Kimber already had the Beretta jammed under Emma’s jaw. “Say another word, Addler, and I’ll put a bullet through your skull.”
Emmaline whimpered.
“Where is Sam’s mom?”
My throat tightened. “She’s- “
“I wasn’t talking to you!” Kimber yelled at me. “Addler?”
“She’s…she’s dead.” Emma whispered.
“How?” Kimber asked.
“I don’t know. It was…a car accident, I think. Or something with a car. I’m sorry, I don’t remember! I’m a- I’m a victim like you.”
Kimber let go of Emma and she scrambled back against the wall. Her disposition changed as soon she was freed. Gone was the scared, wilting flower from moments before – Emma was once again mistress of the house. She smiled coolly.
“But, of course, I’m a survivor. And it’s Walker now.” Emma cooed. “You both are so dead when my husband finds you.”
Kimber turned and cracked Emma over the head with the butt of the gun. She fell face first onto the rug she was kneeling on.
“We gotta go.” I said, taking Kimber’s arm.
“Get off of me!” She screamed, and jerked away from my grasp. Kimber gave me a fiery look and then held out her hand. “Keys.”
“No. You need to get out of town immediately, Kimber.” I said.
She pointed the Beretta at my chest. “Now.”
I hesitantly handed them over to her and she whirled out the door. I followed her to the Mazda where she tore open the driver’s side door and got in. The red pickup was parked haphazardly on the front yard, grass torn up under it’s tires and driver door hanging open. I walked up to the Mazda as Kimber scowled at me but didn’t get in.
“Kimber, I’d rather be dead than take you with me up to the mine.” I told her through the open window. Her hands flexed white-knuckled on the steering wheel.
“Don’t make me leave you here.” She said, as the far off sirens of police cruisers began to creep into the neighborhood.
“Fuck!” I yelled. Did Kimber always get her way? Before my door was even shut Kimber was screeching out of the driveway. She made record time back to the highway but the sirens continued to grow louder behind us.
“They’re chasing us, Kimber, where the fuck are you going?”
“You know where Borrasca is and I don’t. You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
“No.” I said in a low voice.
“Then there’s only one place to go.” She said and before I realized where she was going we were already there. She pulled into the back lot of the Prince Ridge, parked, and walked straight into our hotel room, which she hadn’t even bothered to lock on her way out. I ran after her, locking the hotel door behind me.
“They knew we’re here! We have to get out now.”
Kimber fell into the armchair and began spinning the car keys on her finger. “I knew you would go to your mother’s. Even when you’re high you’re not stupid enough to make a run at Borrasca in the daylight.”
“I’m not high.” I said.
Kimber shrugged. “You hide it well. And anyway how can I believe anything you say? You’ve lied to me at every turn.”
“I’ve lied? You kept everything from me!”
“Only what I didn’t trust you with.”
“And I agree that you were right. I was a liability and I’m so sorry for that. It kills me to even think about the danger I put you in. But you need to admit the reason you’re really here. Let me take care of the rest. I can do that now and I want to – I know what my life is buying.”
“I want to help, Sam.” She pleaded. “I wanted Borrasca gone and those men dead.”
“I know you do but that’s not why you’re here. You’re here because of Kyle. I’m not saying that’s wrong, Kimber, but-”
“I am here for Kyle, okay? I never pretended I wasn’t. But I want to see Borrasca exposed, too.” The sirens were getting nearer and we were no closer to getting out of this room. Kimber sighed. “It’s clear that that’s never going to happen. I thought we might be able to get the records but I don’t know how to find them. These fuckers are going to die with their good names. But at least they’ll die, right?”
“Yes. They will die.” We had finally agreed on something.
“And you’re not going up there alone for some suicidal showdown. Got it?” She demanded.
I clenched my teeth. The time for lies was over but I couldn’t agree to this. The sirens suddenly cut off. They were here.
“Kimber.” I warned.
“Come on out, son. We know you and your girlfriend are holed up in that room.” The megaphone was coming from the other side of the building.
“They think we’re still in 209.” Kimber whispered as if they could hear her. It was the break we needed.
“Get your shit. And get in the car.” I said. Kimber gave me a wary look. “We can argue later, let’s just get the fuck out of here. Kimber, if they catch us no one makes a run at Borrasca.” She nodded, still looking distrustful, but slung her bag over her shoulder and quietly opened the door. I prayed they had yet to surround the whole building.
I grabbed my duffel bag and followed Kimber out, quietly closing the door behind me.
“Come on now, Samuel, don’t make us come into this crack den after you. Come out real nice and obedient so we can bring you to your daddy. He’s really looking forward to seeing you. Wants to spend some quality father and son time.”
We threw our bags into the backseat and climbed into the car. I waited to hear the megaphone again before I risked turning the engine over. This time a different voice was spoke.
“Samuel Walker, you are a wanted suspect in the felony assault of Kyle Landy. If you resist arrest, we may have to hurt you. The sheriff really wouldn’t like that so don’t make our jobs more difficult.”
“Where are we going?” Kimber asked.
“Just away from here. We have to lose them.” Knowing that they would spot the Mazda immediately I decided our only hope was to gun it and light up the highway. The tires screeched as we shot out of the parking lot, headed straight for the freeway onramp. There were few places to hide and I realized our best shot was one of the forest roads we knew so well.
I risked a glance in the rearview mirror as we hit on the onramp. The deputies had been caught off guard by our sudden appearance from the back of the building and were only just taking their cruisers out of park as we merged onto the highway.
The pedal was on the floor and it was taking all of my concentration to keep the car stable in the gently falling snow. I knew there was a strong possibility that they would catch us since their cars were a lot faster than ours. “Kimber, hand me the gun.”
“No.” She said without looking away from the side mirror. “I’m a better shot than you.” She was probably right. I hadn’t shot a gun since before I went to prison.
The highway began to curve and I knew this would be my only blind spot for miles – the one chance to make a move they couldn’t see. Instead of pulling off to the right and heading up a gently inclining forest inlet, I cut the wheel and careened over the snow-covered highway divider, across oncoming traffic, and up the steeper, more challenging access road to my left. I prayed our tire tracks wouldn’t be visible to them with the moderate, holiday traffic kicking up slush over them. The snow was falling softly through the trees as we climbed the mountain road and I knew that if we were going to make it to somewhere less vulnerable we couldn’t stop. The snowfall would only get heavier.
THERE IS NO CHAPTER 13
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