Wilderness Target. Sharon Dunn
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is your name?”
Her expression softened. “Clarissa.”
He stepped toward her. “Listen, Clarissa, I don’t know what is going on with you and that guy who was looking for you. I can take you up to the police station if that would help.” He pointed in that general direction.
“No...” She took a step back and a wall seemed to go up around her. Panic coated her words. “I’ll be all right. I’m...I’m meeting someone tomorrow.”
Again, he wondered what she was afraid of, and why the man was after her. That she didn’t want to go to the police made him a little suspicious. Maybe she wasn’t the fragile innocent she projected. “Are you sure? I know some of the local guys. I’m positive they’d help you out...whatever the trouble is.”
“This isn’t a police matter.” She seemed to grow more upset with each word. Shaking her head, she took another step back. “Please, I just wanted to thank you for getting me into town.” She turned and pulled the door open. He heard her hurried footsteps on the sidewalk as the door eased shut.
He had offered help, and she had refused. There was nothing more he could do. He had to let it go.
* * *
Clarissa made her way up the street. A cluster of people spilled out of a steak house. Laughing and talking, they skirted around her on the sidewalk. She glanced back, half hoping to see Ezra. His concern had been so unexpected, she found herself drawn to him. The lights in his office clicked off, but he didn’t come out. There must be a back door to the office, likely one that led to a parking area with his personal car.
She made her way across the street. The lobby of the Black Bear Inn was still illuminated. She’d used up precious time in saying thank-you to Ezra—time Don could have used to reach Discovery—but her conscience wouldn’t allow her to leave town without letting him know that he had done the right thing by sticking his neck out for her.
A rental car eased down the street, as though the driver was looking for something.
Clarissa’s breath hitched, and she took a step back. Blood whooshed in her ears.
Max’s hired muscle got out of the rental car, his narrow-eyed gaze slicing through her. He slammed the door and bolted toward her.
She kicked off her high heels. Adrenaline charged through her as she ran barefoot up the side street. The people from the steak house had gotten in their cars and driven away. No one else was around. When she ran past the coffee shop, it was dark. Maybe she could double back and slip into the safety of the steak house.
She willed her feet to pump harder, not daring to look over her shoulder. She ran past a library with darkened windows, and into a park. With her heart pounding, Clarissa made her way toward the playground equipment. She charged up the stairs of the slide and slipped into the tiny enclosure at the top, pressing her knees against her chest. Breathless from her run, she struggled to stay silent.
She closed her eyes and waited, listening. Had she shaken him off? Gradually, her breathing slowed to normal. She leaned back against the hard metal of the enclosure. She relaxed a little.
And then she heard it—the crunch of a footstep on the wood chips that surrounded the playground equipment.
Clarissa froze, holding her breath. She could hear him moving around the area. His footsteps faded and then grew louder. She recognized the distinctive sound of a foot touching metal. He was coming up the steps. She swung around and pushed off down the slide. Her feet hit the ground, and she took off across the rolling hills of the park, back toward downtown. She could hear him now, his footsteps rapid and closing in.
She ran harder. Rocks bruised her bare feet.
Don grabbed her arm and yanked her back. She swung around, hitting his face with her purse. He grunted and let go. She turned to run, getting only a few steps before she felt the weight of his hands on her shoulders, taking her down. Her stomach impacted with the ground, knocking the wind out of her. She pushed up on all fours and tried to crawl away, but he grabbed her foot. Clarissa flailed, trying to kick free.
“Quit it,” he growled.
She kicked his arm. She wasn’t giving up without a fight. He moaned from the pain, grabbed hold of her wrists and jerked her up. She twisted from side to side, seeking to break free.
“Stop it, I said.” His breath smelled of cigarettes.
She stilled, catching her breath and trying to come up with her next move. She had to get away from this man. “I’m not going back to California.”
Don chuckled. “No, you’re not.” His voice was sinister. “You know what Max liked about you? That you had no family. No one to notice or care that you were gone.”
He let go of her wrists. She crab-walked backward. He lunged at her, wrapping his hands around her neck. Fear shot through her. She scratched and pulled at his wrists, but he pressed harder. She struggled for air as she clawed at his forearms and then tried to pry his fingers off. She saw spots before her eyes. The air left her lungs.
Up the hill, headlights cut a swath of illumination across the park. The car came to a stop and laughing teenage voices filled the still night air.
The thug loosened his grip on Clarissa’s neck. She gasped for air. The teenagers were headed toward them. One of them shouted, “Hey, what’s going on there?”
Don let go of her neck altogether. She flipped over and took off running. She could hear the thug talking to the teens, telling lies, no doubt. She headed down the hill toward the library. It was closed, but the building might offer a nook or cranny where she could hide.
Max’s henchman wasn’t going to give up, but he wouldn’t try anything as long as she was within screaming range of the teenagers. She’d never in her life been so glad for teenagers ignoring park curfew rules.
She slipped into a dark alcove in the library exterior wall, pressing hard against it. He wouldn’t see her here. Moments later, she heard his footsteps on the concrete walk. The noise faded slowly. Her fingers touched her neck. Warm tears formed.
She squeezed her eyes shut. She wouldn’t give in to crying. She was a fighter, a survivor. She would get out of this alive. Clarissa squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. She waited at least ten more minutes before stepping out of the shadows and walking toward the lights of downtown.
She stayed alert, looking from side to side and listening for footsteps. Of course, Don would return to the street where he’d parked. Still, the Black Bear Inn seemed like her best option. Staying on the street looking for a hotel only increased the odds of him finding her again. Somehow she’d managed to hold on to her purse, all she had in the world. She could afford to get a room for the night.
She walked one block past Main Street and then circled back to the inn until she found a side door. Pausing outside, she straightened her clothes, buttoned her blazer and ran her fingers through her hair.
The lobby held a warm glow. She walked toward the check-in desk, where a college-aged man hunched over a notebook computer. If she looked out of sorts, he gave no hint of it in his expression, and he didn’t stare at her bare feet. She appreciated his professional demeanor.
“Can I get a room, please?”
“We have one single left,” he said.
“That would be fine.”
He pulled a key off the wall and slid it across the counter before shifting over to the hotel computer. “It’s eighty dollars a night. How will you be paying?”
“Cash.” Clarissa opened her purse and stared down at the pile of bills. The day she’d left California, she’d gone back to Max’s house to plead with him to drop the charges and give her the money she was owed. He had not been home, but his wife had been. When Stella Fitzgerald found out how Max had ruined Clarissa financially, she’d given her some money from their personal safe. Clarissa pulled out