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They didn’t have time for this.
Somewhere out there, a killer was hunting them. Every minute they spent sitting still was another minute he was getting closer. They couldn’t hole up here, couldn’t wait for help, couldn’t gamble on the killer losing their trail. They had to keep moving.
Out of habit, he put the jack and the ruined tire in the cargo compartment, then he slammed the door harder than usual. The SUV shuddered from the force of it.
Yanking the front driver’s side door open, he ducked his head inside and aimed a level stare directly at Jenna.
“We have to walk.”
Her eyes flared wide open. She shook her head, the movement jerky. “Walk? Walk where? What happened with the tire?”
All reasonable questions that he either didn’t know or didn’t have time to explain. “The tire blew. It was already damaged. I don’t know where yet, but if we stay here, we’ll be found. And probably won’t live through it.”
He didn’t need more light to know her face blanched white.
“Okay. Fine. Let me grab my bag. Just in case we somehow end up in a place where I can charge my hearing aids.”
Her hearing aids. He’d forgotten that she wore them. “How much can you read lips?”
She grimaced. “Very little. It’s not as easy as people think.”
He’d assumed that it was a skill that came with being deaf. Now he knew better.
She grabbed her small backpack that served as her overnight bag. Then she shoved a thick woolen hat over her head and ears, wrapped a scarf around her neck and pulled on heavy duty gloves. He began smiling, despite the seriousness of their situation.
She caught him staring. “What?”
He shook his head and grabbed his own gear. “Most women I know aren’t as prepared for winter.”
He’d already been impressed when he’d seen her thick boots with their heavy tread, rather than the heeled fashion statements his female cousins preferred.
“What can I say? I don’t like being cold.” She left the warmth of the vehicle. The moon beams streaming down captured the steely glint in her eyes. “Do we at least know which direction we’re heading?”
“We’re winging it,” he told her. “But we’ll have to avoid being seen. Pretty sure that once they see the car, the men hired to deal with you will know we’re on foot and vulnerable.”
She scrunched her nose at his euphemism. “To deal with me? Polite way to say they want me dead. But I still don’t know why?”
“Like I said. It’s probably money. The trick is to find out who would inherit with you gone.”
They began walking. He dialed the station and talked with Sergeant Dawson. When he mentioned they’d left the vehicle, the other man exclaimed, “NO! I never thought to have them check the condition of the spare. Share your location with me. I will have someone meet you.”
An engine roared in the distance. They had to get off the road. And he didn’t want the light of his phone to attract attention.
“Hold on. Call you right back.” He hung up before the sergeant could respond. Grabbing Jenna’s hand, he began running off the road. They ran past two houses and finally reached an abandoned dairy farm, the large empty milking barns crumbling and forlorn.
“Should we hide in one of the barns?” Jenna lifted her free hand and gestured toward the large structures.
“Too obvious.” They ran past the barns. Past the frozen field. The car drew closer. Headlights appeared around the curve. It would be here soon, and they were out in the open.
They ran faster, half stumbling over ruts in the snow.
Near the edge of the field, a dilapidated fence bordered an old cemetery. They climbed over the fence and entered the area. Many of the headstones were so worn, the names were no longer visible. The ones that were had French sounding names.
“There.” They crept to an old caretaker’s shed, obviously unused, and moved inside.
Brody could hear something scurrying on the floor. A pair of beady eyes blinked. He flashed his light briefly and a tiny mouse fled.
Jenna shuddered, her body so close he felt the motion against his back.
