Secret Mountain Hideout. Terri Reed
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was no way around it. Chase had to know about the monster after her. And once he learned the truth, he’d want nothing more to do with her. He’d be happy to let her slither away into the shadows.
She flicked a glance at the intimidating man named Alex in the front seat, wishing she were alone with Chase. But then again, maybe it was better that they both hear this so she wouldn’t have to repeat it. “I was waitressing at an upscale restaurant in Burbank, The Matador.”
Chase’s eyebrows drew together. “It recently burned down, right?”
Her chest tightened. She lifted the restricting seat belt strap away from her body to suck in air. “Yes. It was reported on the news. I’m sure the fire was set because of me.”
“Why would you think that?” Alex asked from the driver’s seat.
She let out a small dry laugh. “Because the only person injured was the man who helped me escape California.”
Chase’s intense gaze locked with hers. “Did your friend know you were here in Bristle?”
Shaking her head, she said, “No. I was so careful.” Remorse swamped her. “Until this morning.”
“What did you do this morning?” Chase asked.
“I called the hospital where my friend was taken.” She wiped at fresh tears slipping down her cheeks. “I had to know if he was alive.”
“Is he?” Chase’s intense gaze locked with hers.
“For now,” she said. “He’s in critical condition.”
Sympathy crossed Chase’s face. “Were you able to talk to him?”
“No. And I didn’t leave a name or number,” she said. “I don’t know how they found me. But they did.”
“Probably tapped the hospital phone and traced the call,” Alex supplied.
Her stomach knotted. She should have thought of that. Another move that put her life in jeopardy.
“Let’s go to a year and a half ago,” Chase urged. “What happened?”
With one hand, she pinched the bridge of her nose, forcing herself to go back to that horrible night. Her heart rate picked up as she spoke. “We were going through our closing duties like any other night. I went to take the trash out to the dumpster in the back.”
She pressed her lips together for a moment as a flush of anger robbed her of speech. Finding her voice, she continued, “I forgot to put the doorstop in the door.” She couldn’t keep the self-recrimination from her voice. “If I had just remembered to prop the door open.” She pounded her fist against her thigh. “I forgot and the door locked behind me.”
His hand covered her fist. “Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself. Everyone makes mistakes.”
She glanced over at him and stifled a scoff. “A mistake that could get me killed.”
“Not going to happen. Not on my watch.”
She wanted to believe him, but there was no way he could make such a promise. Though the sentiment was heartwarming to hear and to know he meant it filled her with tenderness. But he didn’t know her. And she feared if he ever really did, he’d think twice about his promises. “I’m always such a mess. I can never get anything right. I would have been fired from that job long ago if Gregor, the restaurant manager, hadn’t taken a shine to me.”
“A shine? Was this man taking advantage of you?”
His voice held a hard edge that startled her. His reaction gave her pause. But he was a cop. Of course his thoughts had gone to a dark place. She gave a quick shake of her head. “Oh, no. Gregor was more like a grandfather to all of us. I never knew my own grandparents. Gregor was kind and generous. He didn’t deserve to be hurt.”
Her words seemed to nullify the sharpness of moments before. “No, he didn’t if he was willing to risk his own life to protect you.” He considered her a moment. “You didn’t have a spouse or boyfriend to keep you safe?”
She tucked in her chin. “Oh, none of those. I mean, I’ve dated, but most men either consider me more of the sister type or the best friend type.”
He remained silent for a heartbeat, then said, “You took the trash out and then what happened?”
At his prompting, she refocused on telling her story. “There were people in the back alley.” She bit the inside of her lip as the memory assaulted her. “Mr. Sokolov was arguing with a man.”
“Who is Mr. Sokolov?”
“He owns the restaurant. I’d never seen the man he was arguing with. I tried to go back inside, but I was locked out, trapped.” The helpless, vulnerable sensation she’d experienced that night was back tenfold. She smoothed her hands over her thighs, needing something to do with her hands other than wringing them like some victim.
But let’s face it, she was a victim. A victim of being in the wrong place at the wrong time and seeing something that changed the course of her life.
“You must have been frightened.” The fingers of his right hand laced through hers.
She held on tight, absorbing some of his strength. He was a steadfast man like a giant oak that wind could neither bend nor break. “I would have had to walk right in the middle of their argument to go around to the front of the building and be let back inside.” She shuddered. “I shrank into the shadows of the garbage container, hoping they’d leave soon. But they lingered, continuing their arguing. Their voices were loud and angry.”
“You heard what they were saying?”
There was no mistaking the anticipation in his tone. She hated to disappoint him.
“Some, not all. Mr. Sokolov was yelling at the man about betrayal and trusting him when he should’ve known better.”
“This Sokolov character must have discovered the man was an undercover police officer,” Chase said.
She gasped. “I didn’t know. He wasn’t in uniform.” She tried to recall what the dead man wore. “He had on jeans, a T-shirt and baseball cap.”
“His clothing would make sense if he was undercover,” Chase said.
“Where was his backup?” Alex asked.
“That’s a good question,” Chase answered. “One we’ll have to ask Chief Macintosh.” Chase returned his attention to her. “Go on.”
“Mr. Sokolov reached underneath his coat and pulled out a gun.” The memory made her shrink a bit, her shoulders rounding and her chin dipping. She wanted to forget, to curl in a ball and pretend she hadn’t seen any of it.
“You saw this?” Alex asked.
“Yes.” She lifted her face and met Chase’s gaze. “He shot that man. I had to bite my fist to keep from screaming.”
Chase squeezed her hands.
Tears rolled down her cheeks. Anxiety fluttered in her chest. “The sight of that man crumbling to the ground and Mr. Sokolov stepping over the man he’d just killed like he was a piece of garbage will be forever etched in my brain.”
Now she could add watching the phony detective going over the side of the cliff. Definitely, the stuff of nightmares.
“So you ran away?”
“Not at first. After Mr. Sokolov was gone, I ran to the man to offer help. But he had no pulse. And there was so much blood.” She remembered gagging at the sight. “Then I heard a noise and ran back behind the garbage bin. Gregor found me there. He hustled me away from the restaurant.”
“Did someone remove the body?” Alex asked.
She glanced toward Alex and met his gaze in the rearview mirror. “I don’t know. I didn’t hear anyone