Page 28

TWENTY-EIGHT

The moment the couple—eyes glowing, faces shining—made their retreat down the aisle, Gray slid his phone from his pocket. He had multiple texts, but the strand from Faith stood out.

Please call me.

We need to talk now.

I tried to call you. Why aren’t you answering? The wedding. You’re at the wedding. Call me as soon as it’s over. Johnstone is back in Neeson.

Meredith, reading over his shoulder, gasped. “He’s here?”

“We need to leave. Now.” Gray didn’t want to upset her or mess up the couple’s day, but right now he would gladly do both if it meant Meredith made it out of Neeson safely. “Please—”

“Let’s go.” She crammed her phone in her small bag and grabbed his arm.

He’d been willing to beg. And if that didn’t work fast enough, he wasn’t ashamed to admit that he was prepared to throw her over his shoulder and carry her away. Her willingness to follow his lead humbled him. It wasn’t what she wanted to do, but she wasn’t giving him a hard time, and when they were safely back in Gossamer Falls, he would thank her.

He glanced at the back of the church. It was packed with wedding guests who were reluctant to head out into the stormy weather. He didn’t blame them, but getting jammed up in that crowd was a recipe for disaster.

He picked up the bags that held their clothes in one hand, took Meredith’s hand in his other, and instead of joining the throng headed to the back of the church, he moved them toward the front. He had no idea what his face looked like, but something must have been telling people to move out of his way because they cleared a path.

When they broke free, twenty feet from the platform, he leaned down and whispered in Meredith’s ear, “Are your keys in the big bag or your small one?”

She patted the small bag.

“Good. Our cars are still at the side door. You lead the way. I’ll follow you.”

“Okay.”

They moved quietly to the side door and opened it. The rain was heavier than it had been this morning, and the wind had picked up. He looked to his left.

Looked again.

Meredith’s 4Runner wasn’t there.

She leaned around him. “Where’s my car?”

Gray closed his eyes for a moment. Lord, we’re going to need some serious help here .

He ran through his options. They could stay in the church. Call Chief Kirby to report the missing vehicle and deal with the fallout. But if they did that, Kirby might hand them over to Johnstone. The risk was too high.

They could take his car and head to Gossamer Falls. But that might be playing right into their hands. They stole Meredith’s car. Were they trying to force them to use his SUV? If so, they’d probably done something to his vehicle. Best-case scenario it was a tracker. Worst case? A bomb. Unbidden, a vision of the desert appeared in his mind. Flames billowed from a vehicle. Cal was there. Their friends. Not all of them got out. No way he could take that risk.

They could leave on foot and head into the woods, then hunker down until someone from Gossamer Falls could come to get them. They’d get soaked, and the potential for hypothermia was high given the cold temperature. Meredith could wear his rain slicker. It wouldn’t keep her warm, though. But at this point, hypothermia was less dangerous than Johnstone.

They could always call in his people and sit tight. But if someone came after them in the church, they might have to shoot their way out. Meredith had her personal firearm. But she’d never shot anyone and wasn’t trained to do it. She would probably fire in self-defense, but her hesitation could be fatal.

He looked at Meredith. She was afraid, but she wasn’t panicking. He shoved her bag toward her. “Change. Fast. Start with the pants and boots.”

If they had to run, her heels—which would quickly turn into bare feet—would be the biggest problem.

She didn’t argue. She took the bag and looked around. “Where?”

“Right here.” He pointed to the corner. “I’ll stand in front of you. Be fast.”

He turned his back to her and faced the hallway. Behind him, she rummaged through her bag. Her breathing was slightly elevated, but otherwise she was handling this better than he could have ever imagined.

He looked at the remaining messages on his phone.

From Donovan:

When that wedding is over, we need you out here. Sorry.

Cal, Mo, Mo, Mo, Cal, and then Mo: All variations on the theme of “we need to talk to you” and “call us.”

From Faith:

You may need this number.

Attached to it was a contact number that could only be one thing. The phone number for the undercover agent.

Behind him, Meredith grunted, then hissed, “Gray. Help me.”

He turned around. Where Meredith had looked like royalty a minute earlier, now she looked a bit like a Picasso. All the pieces were there, but they were in the wrong place. She had boots and pants on. The dress was partly over her head. Her arms stuck out the top. Her head was in there somewhere. If things hadn’t been so serious, he would have laughed.

“Um...” He had no idea where to start.

She turned her back to him. “Unzip me. I tried to pull it over my head without unzipping it. But now I’m stuck.”

Lord, this is not helping. He had to shift fabric around to find the top of the zipper. When he finally got it between his fingers, he tugged it down, only to have it catch before he’d gone two inches. “Hang on.”

“Just rip it,” Meredith said from somewhere inside the dress.

“I appreciate your confidence in my strength, but tearing fabric is harder than you might think.”

“Pull at the zipper. The seam will come loose.”

What did he have to lose at this point? He grabbed the fabric above the zipper and yanked out and down. On one side, the seam gave way and the zipper broke away from the dress, leaving it open another four inches.

He reached down to the mass of shiny skirt and yanked it up and over Meredith’s head. She squeaked.

He shut his eyes. “I’m not looking.” He turned to the hallway, arms full of her dress, and scanned the area around them.

He dropped the dress and called Cal.

“Where—”

“No time.”

Cal stopped talking.

“You need to drive into Neeson. Meredith’s car is missing. Mine may be compromised. I’ll call back.” He didn’t say more. He disconnected that call and pulled open the contact info from Faith.

He hit call and waited.

“What?”

The voice was familiar, but Gray didn’t want to say anything compromising. “Might need an assist.”

“I’m sure you do.”

“Any ideas?”

No answer. Gray looked at the screen. “He hung up on me.”

“Give me that.” Meredith took his phone. “Change.”

Meredith wasn’t wearing enough clothes to last long outside, but she’d last a lot longer than she would have in her dress. While he’d had her start with her pants and boots, he did the opposite. He pulled off the jacket and dress shirt, left the undershirt he never went anywhere without, and pulled a performance long-sleeved shirt on over top of it. He followed it with the hoodie he’d had on. He didn’t bother changing his pants, but he kicked off his dress shoes and shoved his feet into his boots.

“We have to go!” Meredith grabbed his arms. “Now!”

He didn’t argue with her. He paused only long enough to throw his rain slicker around Meredith. He grabbed his heavy coat, and they dashed outside. Meredith was still talking. “The text said, ‘Run!’ Then it said, ‘Get into the woods. I’ll find you.’”

She made a horrified sound. “Gray! What if it was the wrong people? What if I just—”

“What was the number?”

“It was local. Five-five-five-seven-seven-three-eight.”

“That was the agent. We’re good.”

“Oh, thank you, Jesus. He’s helping us.”

The Lord knew they needed his help on this one indeed.

He maneuvered them through the cars in the parking lot, then through the small graveyard, dodging stones and plaques and narrowly avoiding a broken kneecap when a small bench appeared out of nowhere.

The goal for the moment was simple. Get out of sight. He’d figure the rest of it out after they made their escape.

Ten feet into the wooded area around the church, their pace slowed to a fast walk. Another ten feet and they were moving slower. There was no path, no trail, and the farther into the forest they went, the thicker the trees, vines, prickly thorns, and undergrowth.

He looked for a place they could pause. He needed to check his phone. He needed to check Meredith. He needed to get them out of this situation. Once again, his nightmares had come to life while he was wide awake. If he lost Meredith...

They kept moving for five of the longest minutes of his existence when he expected to hear gunfire ringing out every second, and then he found a spot that was far from perfect but would do for a few moments. Several trees had fallen and there was enough room for them to squat down behind them and have some protection on at least three sides.

Meredith hadn’t spoken since they hit the tree line, and as he maneuvered her into the safest spot he could manage, the only sound she made was labored breathing.

He glanced at his phone.

They know you’re gone.

He showed the screen to Meredith.

Her eyes were wide, and her breathing was more like panting. She hiked often and was in good shape. She wasn’t winded. She was scared.

So was he. Not only of the men chasing them, but of what he might become if he lost her. This was why he didn’t do relationships. This was why he’d done his best to stay away from Meredith. If he failed to protect her tonight, he wouldn’t survive.

He couldn’t risk a phone call, but he put Cal, Mo, Donovan, and Brick on a group text.

Had to make a run for it. No time to explain. We’re in the woods behind the church. Pretty sure they’re looking for us.

Gray had to hope his signal was strong enough.

Meredith’s phone buzzed at the same time his did. She looked at it.

Gray looked at his.

The message was from Mo and had been sent to both of them.

Look around. Anything familiar?

What kind of random remark was that? Gray went to fire back a message, but Meredith was doing exactly as Mo had requested.

The next message was a bit more logical.

Do you have a compass? If you do, head SSW until you know where you are.

South-southwest would put them deeper into the woods and not toward any road that Gray knew of.

But Meredith nodded and her thumbs flew on her phone.

“I’ll explain later.” She took her phone and tapped the screen a few times. “Ready?”

“Lead on, Sacajawea.”

Her smile was wan. She showed him her compass app, and they took off. He dug in his pocket for the compass that he kept on a key ring along with his Swiss Army knife. Apps were great, but they didn’t always work.

He oriented himself as they walked.

It was slow going.

And it was cold.

The only thing saving them right now was that the rain made it hard to see them and muffled the sound of their passage.