“You need to get out of your house, Gerry. They found us, they will be coming for you next.”
“Shit!” the old man yelled, and Harley heard rustling as if he were climbing out of bed. “I’m headed out now. You two get out through the cellar?”
“Yeah, we’re at the truck stop.”
Harley heard the sound of a shotgun being cocked, and he felt a stab of panic.
“What is it?”
“Think I might have some company.” Gerry said. “Two men, dark suits, murdering-son-of-a-bitch look about them, friends of yours?”
“How the fuck did they find you?”
“Not sure, but not to worry. You and Norah head to the second location. I’ll be there in forty-five. Toss the phone.”
“Gerry—” The line went dead, and Harley let his arm fall.
“Is h-h-h-he o-okay?”
“Everything’s fine. Stay here.” He pulled a gun out of the bag and handed it to her. “Don’t let anyone in unless it’s me.”
“H-Harley,” she pleaded, and he kissed her forehead.
“It’s going to be fine, baby. Trust me.” He smiled and was grateful when he heard her lock the door behind him.
Harley searched the parking lot for a nondescript car and finally settled on a green beat-up sedan. He broke the window and wired it.
Once the engine roared to life, he took just a second to gather his thoughts before driving back over to the bathroom.
The second meetup was halfway between here and Gerry’s house. If he had been alone, he would have hauled ass to Gerry’s house to make sure the man was fine, but thinking of Norah, he knew he would just have to have faith that Gerry could handle it. He said a prayer and then knocked on the door.
“Norah, open up.”
She opened the door with a limp, and after looking down at her feet again, he cursed himself and carried her to the car. They were just pulling out when he saw flashlights emerging from the tunnel.
Harley blasted the heater, grateful it still worked, and reached for the phone. He looked down at it and wondered if he should keep it. Instead he followed Gerry’s instructions and tossed it out the window. He looked over at Norah. She stared out the window, and he reached over to squeeze her hand. She took it and held on.
* * *
“HE SHOULD BE here any minute.” Harley pulled up in front of an old farmhouse. It had been abandoned years ago, the signs of aging peeling on its weathered walls. It had been where Gerry and he had agreed to meet in the event he needed to get out of the cottage.
He hadn’t counted on them finding Gerry, though. Because they had, he had to continually beat back the panic that surfaced.
Norah nodded and continued to stare out the window into the dark. Harley got out and walked around to the trunk, hoping to find some sort of first aid kit in order to patch up Norah’s feet, but it was empty, and he fought the urge to slam it closed. He didn’t want to scare her, but damn he was angry.
How in the hell had they found them? He thought he had covered his tracks well enough to stay hidden for years if necessary. Appears either he was wrong, or Tom had a hell of a lot more resources then the Seattle PD.
Harley saw headlights appear on the old farm road and he held his gun at the ready just in case. He breathed a sigh of relief when the truck came into view and he saw Gerry behind the wheel.
“Sorry, had to switch vehicles,” he said, and got out of the truck. His white shirt was splattered with blood, and Harley panicked.
“Are you hurt?”
He looked down as someone would if they had food rather then blood on their shirt.
“Nah, not my blood. It’s those two assholes who thought they were going to beat up an old man.”
“You took out two of Tom’s agents? Alone?” The wonder must have shown through in Harley’s voice, because Gerry threw his head back and laughed.
“I’m not as fragile as you make me out to be, Harley. There are some things I probably should tell you, but not here. We need to get the hell out of dodge.” Gerry’s eyes focused beyond Harley and he turned to see Norah stepping around. “You poor thing.” Gerry’s face softened. “You okay?”
She nodded warily and then stepped to Harley.
“Come on,” he said, and lifted her into his arms. They climbed into the old truck and left the aged farmhouse behind them.
“Where are we going?” Harley asked as Gerry drove through the dark.
“Friend of mine owns an old B&B about two hours from here. It’s clean, and the best part is she doesn’t trust the government. So no cameras, and if anyone shows up asking for us, she won’t tell them anything.”
“Won’t they track her down through you?”
“Unlikely. She is off the grid, in a major way.”
“Who are you?”
Gerry laughed, “Someone who doesn’t tolerate bullies like Tom Hewitt.”
* * *
THEY PULLED INTO the driveway of a large Victorian-style house. Its looming fa?ade was both welcoming, and intimidating.
A woman stepped out on the old porch just as Gerry put the truck into park. Harley reached for his gun when he saw she was holding a shotgun and it was aimed at them.
“No,” Gerry said, and reached across Norah to put his hand on Harley’s. “She won’t do anything.” When Gerry walked out and stepped around the truck, she lowered her weapon and walked down the steps.
“Well, I’ll be damned, look what the cat dragged in.”
He smiled. “Good to see you, Marissa.”
“Who are they?” she asked, gesturing to the truck.
“Friends of mine. Some bad people are after them. They came and messed up my house pretty good today as well,” he added.
“Send them in. Park the truck in the barn around back.”
Gerry opened Harley’s door and he stepped out. Not wanting her to walk, Harley reached in and lifted Norah out. They walked up the steps and the woman’s eyes softened with sympathy.
“You poor dear. Come on in, we’ll get you fixed up. I might have some clothes that’ll fit ya too.”
“Thank you,” Norah said softly. It was the first thing she had said since they left the truck stop.
Harley followed the woman into the house. He estimated her to be close to Gerry’s age. She moved smoothly and was dressed simply, in black pants and a blue T-shirt. Her hair was up in a tight bun, and he was willing to bet she was very rarely, if ever, caught off guard.
“So what happened?” Marissa asked as Harley set Norah down on the couch.
“We were holed up in a small cottage and they cornered us. Started shooting up the place. I had to grab Norah out of the shower in order to get out of there before we were killed.”
“So you weren’t assaulted then?” she asked, kneeling in front of Norah.
“No, not at all. It all just caught me off guard,” Norah said, finally regaining color in her face.