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Dean catches me by the arm before I pass, surprisingly strong for an old man.
“Two fellas came around a few weeks ago. They were asking about a blonde woman. They had a photo of her. Sure looked like your Ruby out there from the rest of the description. They said she was tall, thin, small nose, and blue eyes. They gave me a number, told me if I saw her to text them a picture.”
I swallow hard, knowing exactly the men he’s talking about. “Did you do that, Dean?”
“Well, I was going to,” he flaps his left arm toward his phone, “but now you say it’s just Ruby Filcher. I’d hate to have those gentlemen drive all the way back here if it’s not her.”
The ground feels loose beneath me, like one wrong word, one sentence phrased in the wrong way, and the whole lot of it will fall in on my head.
“Why are they looking for that girl, Dean?” I take a risk, knowing the kind of guy he is. “Why would you turn her in anyway? You’re not one to get involved in business like this.”
“No,” his old voice shakes a bit, “I suppose I’m not. But this was different.”
“Why?” I feel like I have to insist on an answer. “Why is this different?”
“On account of why they’re looking.” He leans closer like the words themselves have power. “She’s a murder suspect.”
Sunny
Something changed. I don’t know what exactly. But Rhett hasn’t said a word since he got in the truck. That old man running the diner looked at me funny, but I’ve never seen him. It’s not like he could identify me. Could I make the news out here? We’re a few states over. Why would they care what happened in some rural Idaho community? But he won’t look at me. I felt like we were finally becoming friends on a real level and now he’s stone cold and living up to the nickname Carl gave him.
The truck slows for the final turn. If I don’t say something, I might get blindsided again. I need time to get an escape together if it’s time to move on. Would Rhett tell me if he called the cops? Or worse, contacted Whitlock and Stolls?
All my hesitation takes too long. Rhett shifts into park in front of the bunkhouse. He’s not going to tell me. Fingers on the door handle, he moves to get out, but I shoot a hand out to stop him. The second my fingers graze his arm, Rhett jumps. Our eyes meet. My heart sinks. Where I used to find warmth and caring, I only see fear.
“Rhett…” I don’t want to ask. I don’t want to bring any of this into our world. I’d started to build something beautiful here. The truth feels like ash on my hands, and anything I touch will become tarnished. Whatever happened in that diner while I was gone has him more than spooked. I release my grip on his arm. “Tell me what what’s going on.”
The suspicion in his eyes hurts my heart. I don’t know if I deserve it. I don’t know what to do to fix it. It was a month ago today that everything went sideways. I really thought I’d make it longer than this before I lost everything.
“Dean, the diner owner, he recognized you from a photo. Those guys, Stolls and Whitlock, they must have been flashing your photo around a few weeks ago when they were here.” He swallows like he’s struggling to keep calm. “He was gonna call them with a photo tonight.”
Fear spreads through my system. Cops would be hard. Whitlock and Stolls, that would be the end.
“Is he going to?” My mind races with options, ideas for escape. If I hit the highway soon, I could be in Oregon by daybreak. “If you turned me in Rhett, I need to know.”
“You need to know, Sunny? You told me you weren’t dangerous.” His voice picks up speed and volume. “I asked you the first night, and you said—”
“I’m not. Not to you. Not to the ranch. Not to anyone here. I’m not dangerous.” I put up my hands like he’s the one arresting me. “I wouldn’t hurt anyone. I just need a place to hide out until I figure out what’s going on.”
“You need to tell me what you know. If you want to stay, you need to give me more than you have.” The clock on the center console glows green, blinking twelve o’clock over and over. Silence swells, impatient and eager to force the truth out of me. “Why won’t you tell me?”
I want to break the stare between us. The look of betrayal in his eyes burns like a forgotten ember. I don’t have answers for him. I barely have answers for myself.
“I don’t want you to be involved. Not anyone here. I’m still not sure what happened.” I’ve locked the door on that day in my mind. Flashes break through, screaming, blood on my hands, the gun near his body, I tense and shove it from my mind. When I open my eyes, Rhett still stares, watching me try to catch my breath. “I want to be Sunny now. I don’t want to be that other person, not ever again. I don’t want her to exist.”
Rhett
I know what I should do. I know I should make her grab her stuff and drop her at the nearest train depot. I won’t call the cops. I wouldn’t even know what to say to them. But she can’t stay here, that’s all there is to it.
When she faces me again, tears catch the blinking light from the broken clock. Her lips barely form the word, “Please.” They squeeze together, then in the softest whisper she says, “Please don’t make me leave.”
Cowering on her side of the truck, she sure doesn’t look dangerous. She looks like all those hurt animals I’ve saved. And as much as everyone likes to tease me about the injuries I’ve sustained, I still don’t regret helping them. They would have died without me, and I get the feeling she will too.
“Who are those guys searching for you? Who are they really? You said private security, but who do they work for?”
Sunny retreats further into herself, as though saying it out loud has power to make them appear. “They work for my stepmom. They’re her bodyguards. Dad hired them after someone tried to hurt her about a year ago.” Her brow crushes inward, pleading with me. “I’m not dangerous to you. I swear, Rhett, but I can’t go back. Not yet.”
“What would they do to you if they found you? Turn you over to the police? Take you in for questioning?” She started shaking her head before I finished asking the question. “What then? What’s so horrible about them?”
