Susan Sleeman - No Way Out

“Just like Todd. Dead and buried,” Nolan answered. “But in your case there won’t be a need to frame you.”

Oh my goodness, Todd!

Nolan said “framed.” Maybe her husband hadn’t been dirty. Maybe he’d found out about the meth operation and threatened to report Nolan. Then Nolan had killed Todd and framed him.

Nausea rose up her throat followed by a rush of anger. She considered Nolan a friend. He’d been there for her since Todd was murdered. Had let her and her seven-year-old twins live in one side of his duplex rent free. Helped her care for the children, becoming like a brother to her and an uncle to them.

She wanted to climb down the hill and confront him. She took a step.

No. She couldn’t. If what Nolan said was true, he was dangerous. A murderer! She had to get out of here before he discovered her. Once she was away from him, she could take her time to figure out what to do.

The men continued to argue as she set off slowly for fear of making any noise. She made it a few feet when a blustery wind pummeled her body, knocking her off balance. She tried to right herself, but her foot caught on a rock, and she tumbled onto her hands and knees, smacking into the path with an audible thud.

“Someone’s here,” Nolan said in that deadly-calm voice. “On the upper path.”

“You think they heard us?” the third man asked.

“I don’t know, but we’re not taking any chances,” Nolan said. “Get ’em.”

Barely able to see through the thickening fog, Alyssa pushed to her feet. With the tiny landscape lights as her only guide, she ran. Hard and fast. Each step sent her heart beating faster. Powerful winds threatened to take her down, but she kept her footing and continued.

She heard heavy footfalls pounding on the path below her. They were heading in the same direction—toward the downtown parking lot holding her car. They were a bit behind her, but Nolan’s long legs would catch her in no time.

She picked up speed. Sharp pellets of rain assaulted her face, soaking her lightweight running jacket and weighing her down.

The storm was upon them. Full force now. Raging and angry. She was struggling to get through the wind gusts and driving rain but took comfort from the knowledge that they would be struggling, too.

She heard footfalls growing closer. Thud, thud, thud—they pounded on the soft soil that sucked at her feet. She fought hard to stay on course for the main road.

No. Don’t go there. That’s where they’d have parked their cars.

She had to think defensively. It would be too easy for them to catch her on the open road.

She took a leap and plunged into the ditch ahead of them. She slogged through waist high grass, the sharp blades slicing into her hands. She raised them high.

“He’s in the ditch. Get him,” Nolan called out to his buddies.

Good, he thought she was a man, which meant her identity was safe. If she managed to outrun them.

She kept going, her side hitching and her body begging to stop. Her pace faltered, and she slowed. The faces of her precious twins flashed in her mind. She had to make it out of here for them. She moaned with pain but pumped her legs harder. Her muscles burned but the ground disappeared behind her and the sound of her assailants finally fell off.

Stopping, she filled her lungs with air and listened.

Silence. Nothing but blessed silence, save the howling wind and brutal rain.

They wouldn’t have given up. They’d probably gone to get their cars.

If she kept going while they backtracked, she had a chance to escape before they figured out her identity. But where should she go?

She searched the area. The beach.

Yes, that’s it.

They couldn’t follow her there in their cars.

Lungs still screaming for air, she kicked into gear again. When she saw no traffic, she crossed the road, barreling down the hill and onto the sand. She heard sirens swirling closer and then stopping on the road behind her.

No! They must have seen the direction she’d headed. She was too far away for them to identify her for now, but they would soon be tracking her on foot again. Her worst nightmare was coming true. They’d catch her and her children would be orphans.

She wouldn’t let that happen. She raced toward the icy water and paralleled the shore, letting pounding waves erase her footprints. She hoped by the time they parked their car and made it down to the water that she’d be far enough away and they wouldn’t be able to see the direction she’d run.

Cold sliced up her legs and tightened her muscles. She wanted to crumple onto the sand, but her only hope was to take shelter in her favorite spot. She often took her morning run along the softly flowing tides then sat on an outcropping of rocks and watched the waves, wishing for things that could never be. Things she thought she’d attain by the time she turned thirty-two but had remained elusive in her life.

Tonight, instead of wishing, she could rest there and make a plan. Very few people knew about her spot, and she would be safe.

She heard raised male voices behind her, and she wrenched around to look. She couldn’t see the men yet but feared they’d found her.

“Father, please let me make it. For the children.” Her words evaporated in the swirling storm that was picking up in intensity.

She had to reach the rocks. Just had to, before they tracked her down and fired a bullet in her heart as they’d done to Todd.

* * *

Cole Justice pushed away hair plastered against his forehead and looked over the pounding surf. A big storm was on its way in from the Pacific, and he’d climbed a large boulder—the highest point on the beach—to watch. Foolhardy move, he was sure. The rocks were slippery and the night dark, but he liked it best in the dark these days. Away from the concerned stares of his family. Away from the constant self-recriminations.

As he stared at the angry sea, the clouds parted and the moon highlighted the beach. He saw someone moving in the hazy mist. Odd. He’d figured he was the only one foolish enough to brave the spitting rain in a winter storm on the Oregon coast.

The tall figure raced along the water’s edge, glancing back every so often as if someone was in pursuit. The “danger” instincts, honed during his second tour of duty in Iraq, sprang into full alert and he felt apprehensive, as if a threat waited in the wings to take him down.

He tried to squelch it, but there it was, burning in his gut. He’d been home for two years now and it still lingered.

Always on alert. Always watchful. Always uneasy.

He checked to make sure his weapon was still tucked in the back of his jeans and ready if he needed it. Even if he wasn’t a private investigator, he was a former deputy marshal and like most former law enforcement officers, he carried all the time. Right now, he was glad he did. Something wasn’t right about the figure moving closer.

Long, lithe, agile. A woman? Out here tonight?

He lifted his hand against the driving rain and stared. Yeah, it was a woman. She raced toward him with graceful strides, but he lost sight of her at the base of his rocky fortress jutting into the water. Though he didn’t have a visual on her, his sniper training taught him to be still and pay attention. The sixth sense warned him that she was climbing up the face toward him.

Man, was she in for a surprise when she found him up here.

Question was, when did he let her know of his presence? If he called out to her now she could lose her focus and fall. If he waited until she got to the top and she startled backward, the fall would be fatal.

Her head popped over the rock and even in the rain, he could see her concentration. He needed to wait before saying anything.