Karen Foley – Hard to Hold (страница 2)

The utter despair on his face as he’d weighed his options had caused Colton to hesitate for one fateful second. He’d cried out in denial even as he lunged forward to stay the boy’s hand.

But he’d been too late.

The youth had put the gun to his own head, and the sound of a single shot reverberated through the lofty halls. His body had hit the floor before the last echoes faded. Later, Colton learned the boy had intended to kill the defendant he was protecting; the same man who had allegedly kidnapped, raped and then murdered the boy’s young girlfriend.

Now Colton could see the same fleeting expressions of despair and steely resolve on this young woman’s face as she stood facing him. She compressed her lips and steadied the gun, aimed now at his heart.

“Easy there,” he heard himself say. “Why don’t you put away the gun? I’m sure there’s another way. You don’t really want to do this.”

Her eyes clung to his for a brief moment before shifting to the parking lot beyond the diner windows.

“Is one of those vehicles yours?”

Colton followed her gaze, sensing the direction of her thoughts. “Yes, ma’am.”

Goddamn it to hell. His boss would have his head and maybe even his badge, but suddenly Colton didn’t have a choice. Whatever trouble she was in, instinct told him that arresting her wasn’t the solution, and could even be the one thing that drove her completely over the edge. He’d be damned if he’d have her on his conscience.

She gestured toward the door with her gun, and it was then that Colton realized he’d been duped. As she waved the weapon, his eyes were drawn to a scratch on the end of the barrel, revealing the bright orange plastic beneath. Only toy guns were equipped with brightly colored tips, as a way to prevent them from being mistaken for the real McCoy. Clearly, the tip of this one had been painted to match the barrel. As toy guns went, it was a damned realistic replica of the real thing.

“Good,” the woman was saying. “I need you to drive me somewhere.” She tipped her chin up, her eyes narrowing. “And don’t try anything foolish, or I might have to use this. I—I’m a good shot, too.”

Colton kept his face neutral. “I’m sure you are, ma’am.”

He was frankly surprised at how far she was willing to play out this little drama. He’d seen a lot of bizarre and even twisted things in his eleven years as a Deputy U.S. Marshal, but he’d never encountered a situation quite like this one. He knew what he should do, but somehow the idea of exerting his authority over this woman, and destroying whatever small hope she had of getting out of this predicament, held little appeal for him. For now, at least, he’d play it out with her and go along as her “hostage.” At least he could ensure she didn’t try a similar stunt on some other unsuspecting person. Hell, she could find herself at the wrong end of a shotgun, especially in these rural areas where most business owners kept a loaded weapon behind the counter as a matter of course.

Eventually, he’d have to let her know the game was up. But for the moment, he was intrigued enough to find out what her motives were, what kind of trouble she was in and just how far she might be willing to go. He’d been hoping to make it to his cabin by dinner, but decided his vacation could wait another hour or so.

Concealing the weapon beneath her shirt, the woman stepped behind him, indicating he should precede her out of the diner. “Just walk a little in front of me, okay? Don’t turn around. If you do, I’ll have no choice but to use the gun. Are we clear?”

Colton’s lips twitched, but he nodded solemnly. “Yes, ma’am.”

They’d just reached the diner’s entrance when the door to the bathrooms opened, and Colton could hear the frazzled mother and her young son, who was still wailing.

“Whatever you left on the bus will still be there when we get back on,” the mom was saying, trying to console the boy.

Colton found himself suddenly propelled through the door as his “captor” crowded against him, pushing the gun into the middle of his back. “Hurry.” Her voice was low and urgent.

Colton obliged, moving through the door and into the suffocating heat of the sun-baked parking lot. But as the door swung shut behind him, he could just make out the child’s reply.

“But, Mommy, I left my gun on the seat! What if someone takes it?”

Then the door closed and it was just the two of them. Colton barely contained his snort of disbelief. He wondered how she’d react if he reached out and yanked the useless weapon from under her shirt.

The woman was looking sharply at him. Colton knew she was trying to determine if he’d heard the boy, and if he had, whether or not he’d made the connection between the child’s toy and her weapon.

He kept his face carefully impassive and continued across the dusty parking lot. She hesitated for a moment and Colton glanced back at her. He knew in that moment that she had, indeed, taken the child’s toy from where he had left it on the bus. The combination of guilt and consternation on her face had Colton wondering if she might not march back into the diner and return it to the child. Just when he was certain she was going to do exactly that, she composed her features into a mask of steely resolve, and the moment passed.

“Which of these is yours?” She nodded toward the parked vehicles.

“The pickup there.” Colton indicated a black truck that dominated the lot. A canvas tarp was stretched across the bed, protecting and concealing the provisions and gear he was bringing with him to the cabin for a two-week fishing vacation.

“Okay, you drive.” The woman stood aside as he unlocked the vehicle. “Wait!”

Colton stopped just as he was preparing to climb behind the wheel, and turned to look at her expectantly. Her brow was furrowed.

“This isn’t right,” she muttered.

“Nope,” Colton agreed, “it ain’t. Whatever your problem is, it can’t be worth the pile of trouble you’re getting yourself into by taking me hostage.”

The woman waved her hand dismissively. “No, no. I mean this isn’t right.” She pointed to the open door. “You’re supposed to get in on the passenger side and slide over to the driver’s seat. Then I slide in after you. That way I can make sure you don’t try anything.”

“Ah,” Colton said. He stepped back and closed the driver’s door. “I see you’ve been watching plenty of crime-time television.” He walked around to the passenger side of the truck, aware of her following close behind him. Opening that door, he slid in. The interior was stifling hot, so he started the engine and flipped the air-conditioning to high as the woman climbed onto the bench seat beside him. He suppressed a smile as she pulled the toy gun from her waistband and tried awkwardly to keep it trained on him while negotiating the high seat.

“Okay,” she said, closing the door and turning to look at him. “Let’s get out of here.”

She wrestled her backpack off and let it fall to the floor. Without taking her eyes from him, she pressed herself against the door, keeping as far away from him as she could in the confines of the cab. She kept the gun low but leveled at him nonetheless.

Colton quirked an eyebrow. “Care to tell me where we’re going? You might want to make it quick, since I expect we’ll have company before too long.”

* * *

MADDIE HOWE TORE her gaze from the big man sitting next to her and looked beyond the parking lot to where Interstate 80 stretched away into the distance, until it was finally swallowed up by the mountains beyond. Heat shimmered in waves over that narrow ribbon of tarmac, and the plains on either side were scorched brown from the unrelenting heat of the July sun.

“Just head west toward Reno until I tell you different,” she replied, shifting her gaze back to him. To her dismay, the man made no move to put the truck into gear, although one hand rested on the stick shift. He was watching her, and she thought his dark eyes held compassion.

“You sure you want to do this?” His voice was low, compelling.

Maddie swallowed nervously What if he simply refused to drive? He couldn’t do that to her, she thought in near desperation. She had already come this far; had irrevocably altered her life, maybe even ruined it. For her, there was no turning back. She was committed to the course she had chosen, even if it meant ditching him and finding another driver. For her, there were no other options.

“I’m sure,” she finally said, her mouth dry. Her hands tightened around the gun and she lifted it fractionally higher. “Please, just drive.”

His expression told her clearly he was disappointed, but he shifted the big truck into gear and then they were pulling out onto the interstate and heading west toward the foothills of the Sierra Nevadas. Maddie spared one swift glance back at the diner, expecting what, she didn’t know. It wasn’t as if anyone in the place was even aware that she’d just committed a crime. The whole thing had been too easy. There was no discernible activity in the parking lot, and the rest area grew smaller and smaller as they sped away. Finally, she allowed herself to relax back into the seat.