“What’s wrong?”

The strain in her voice had given her away. “Nothing,” she lied.

“Are you scared, too?” He seemed relieved to think he might not be alone in that.

“A little,” she said. “That’s why I—” she drew a deep breath as the prickling in her feet intensified “—I’m going to make it…really quick.”

“Okay. I’ll leave that door unlocked so you can get in. But I’m going to lock the rest.”

“Good idea,” she said, playing along. No matter what Jeremy had done, he was as much a victim in all of this as anyone else. He didn’t understand enough about life and people or what was right and wrong to avoid the many pitfalls. She just happened to be something—like a shiny bauble—that’d caught his attention and captured his heart.

Lucky her… But she was still better off than he was. Despite what she’d been through, what she might still lose before this was over, she’d had a keen mind, good health and people to love, including Isaac. After what he’d said in the truck—that he’d always loved her—she had such hope for the future. She wanted that future, a future with him. She was almost certain she couldn’t be pregnant, but if she was, she wanted Isaac’s baby, too.

The pain hadn’t eased but she didn’t dare delay any longer for fear Jeremy would change his mind. He wasn’t smart, but he was physically intimidating. If, for some reason, he got spooked and decided to restrain her again, he’d have no problem getting the job done. Her best option was to get away from him as soon as possible and hide until morning, then try to find help. If she was fortunate enough to make it, and careful enough to remember her route, she could take someone back for him.

She’d barely climbed out of the car when he surprised her with the reversal she’d feared.

“Wait! Don’t go! You’ll leave me. I know you will.” He scrambled out of the car even though she’d thought his terror would keep him inside, and tried to grab her.

Her feet felt as if a million needles were stabbing into her soles at once. To make it even worse, they were still sore from the night of the fire, when she’d been running without her shoes.

The pain was unbearable and she screamed, but that only frightened Jeremy more. She could tell by the look on his face that he was suddenly determined to stop her.

He reached out, but if he got hold of her, she might never have another chance to escape. They’d die together in that car.

Run! her mind ordered, but she couldn’t. Her feet wouldn’t carry her. Instead of darting off into the trees, as she’d planned, she stumbled and fell.

32

Isaac drove as fast as he could all the way to Libby. He wanted to believe Claire was there and had simply been sleeping too deeply to hear the phone.

But he already knew that couldn’t be the case. When he couldn’t rouse her or Jeremy, he’d contacted the manager and had him check. Both rooms were empty, and Jeremy’s car was gone.

Where could they be?

Isaac had no idea. But the images Les had painted of Jeremy flying into a panic and strangling Alana kept coming to mind. Jeremy had plenty of strength. If he got his hands on Claire, there’d be nothing she could do.

Surely he wouldn’t hurt her. He loved her, had always adored her.

But he probably hadn’t disliked Alana. And he wasn’t himself right now. Depending on what had happened in Don’s house, there was no telling what Jeremy had seen or done or suffered this week. If he was spinning out of control, he could strangle her like he had her mother, without even realizing he was doing it. Les had said Jeremy didn’t believe he’d killed Alana. He’d completely blocked it out.

Isaac wished he could use his cell phone. He would’ve had service once he reached Libby, but he didn’t have the phone itself anymore. It’d been destroyed in the fire, along with all his other belongings. He’d called Myles before he left Don’s house, while he still had a landline, and told him what was going on. Myles was on his way, and he was sending several deputies, leaving Jared Davis to meet the coroner, who was coming to collect Rusty’s body, and the paramedics, who were going to take Les Weaver to the hospital in Kalispell.

But that was twenty minutes ago. Isaac wanted an update, wanted to stay in touch. He knew he wouldn’t be nearly as effective at searching for Claire if he couldn’t coordinate with others making the same effort. All he could do was drive around, hoping to spot Jeremy’s car, even though he doubted Jeremy and Claire were still in town. It was dawn. Isaac had left Libby seven hours ago, and they could’ve left shortly after…?.

He went to the motel first. The manager had gone in, but he had to see with his own eyes that Claire was really gone. He also wanted to look for any hint as to where Jeremy might’ve taken her. But it was far from obvious. He found Claire’s overnight bag, the shirt and bra she’d removed when she dressed for bed and her shoes.

He also found a torn sheet, electrical cords that had been ripped from the lamps and proof of a struggle.

Claire wasn’t sure she wanted it to get light. She’d kicked Jeremy in the face and then the balls when he tried to grab her, which had dropped him to the ground and given her just enough time to steady herself and run into the forest. But he’d come after her. For the past hour, she’d heard him searching through the trees, sometimes very close, alternately calling her name and throwing a temper tantrum when she wouldn’t respond.

The darkness had worked in her favor. All she had to do was stay still and let him be the one to thrash around. As daylight approached, she had to risk moving—without any shoes. Considering that her feet were already so cut and bruised, she’d have no chance if it came to a footrace. She wasn’t even sure she’d be able to limp very far…?.

“How could you do this to me?” Jeremy wailed.

The words bounced against the surrounding mountains, creating an echo. Do this to me…do this to me…do this to me. She hated the sound of it, hated his voice, hated his distress and what he’d done to her. But hating didn’t help. And neither would answering. She couldn’t reason with him. He wasn’t capable of it.

Ignoring the fatigue that overwhelmed her, she began to pick her way through the rocks and trees as quietly as possible, moving in the direction from which they’d come. That dirt road had to lead somewhere. She planned to follow it as much as possible.




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