Runaway Witness Page 10

  “Also,” Mack added, “I’m down to two bullets with no way to reload for now. But don’t worry. It’ll all be fine.”

  Fine. The word rolled around in her head as they walked. It wasn’t good, but fine was all she had left.

  They trudged onward and upward through the trees until they hit a road. They followed it, sticking close to the tree line and dropping flat to the ground whenever they heard a vehicle approaching. They walked in near silence, barely even making small talk. Despite the brief and spontaneous moment of closeness, now things were awkward again, as if neither of them knew what to say.

  She wondered if he regretted kissing her. Maybe. But she didn’t. Yes, it had been foolish, sudden and unexpected. They’d be saying goodbye in a matter of hours. She’d go into witness protection and Mack would be disappearing out of her life into another undercover assignment, and she’d try to rebuild her life somewhere. Yet, she didn’t regret the fact she’d let herself, for one fleeting moment, show this strange, strong, complicated man how she felt about him.

  Did she really have no choice but to go back into witness protection? Was she right to trust Mack? Could she trust his team that this time she’d be safe and the Jackals wouldn’t find her? And who was she now without the homeless center? Her work had always been her calling and one she was deeply devoted to. Who did God want her to be now? What future did she have?

  And how was she ever going to handle saying goodbye to Mack again?

  Eventually they saw the dim, yellow lights of Noel’s Motel off the highway. It was a low, squat building with only the sad, flickering light in the front office to show it was even open.

  The man who greeted them from behind the counter was Noel himself, according to his nametag. Noel’s tired eyes were locked on a television screen that showed the weather forecasts and rolling headline ticker of a twenty-four-hour news channel. Mack asked for adjoining rooms, preferably something with a living room if they had it. Noel shrugged and offered them two old-fashioned room keys attached to large plastic spoons, which she imagined was to keep people from losing them. Mack bought a bag full of overpriced toiletries and snacks from the two crowded shelves beside the front desk, along with every one of the cheap, knock-off phone chargers Noel had, to ensure the best probability of finding one that actually worked. Unfortunately, Noel didn’t sell burner phones.

  The stairs up to the second floor were outdoors. They were icy and slippery with puddles of gray slush.

  Mack opened the door to the first suite, signaled for her to stay back while he did a sweep and then ushered her inside. The room had wood-paneled walls, a ceiling marked with water stains and a carpet in various shades of orange and brown. A small table, two folding chairs, a couch with one mismatched cushion and a single bed made up the rest of the room.

  “Liam and Jess will meet us here,” Mack said. He unlocked the door between the two rooms on her side. “I’m going to head next door. Leave the outside door locked, and I’ll come back through this adjoining door. You should eat something and try to get some sleep if you can. I’m going to stay awake, pray and hope I can get one of these charging cables to give me juice for my phone. Don’t worry. It won’t be long until we’re rescued.”

  He stepped forward, like he was thinking of hugging her, and then he stepped back again.

  She waited until he left, then she locked the outside door behind her, sat down and took off her boots. She simply unzipped her coat and stuffed her hat and gloves into her pocket. It might be just after two o’clock in the morning and her entire body ached, but if Mack wasn’t going to sleep, neither was she.

  She opened the closest can of pop, took a swig and then started on a bag of chips. She flipped the television on and watched as it crackled to life. The same news channel that had been showing in the office downstairs appeared on the screen in a hodgepodge of colors and words. It took her a few moments of clicking to realize it was the only channel not showing static, unless she wanted to input a credit card. She gave up and watched the feed scroll past without really looking. A high school student had won a national music competition, a charity knitting event was coming up for women’s national health and there was a breaking news alert that a man had been shot and killed outside a building in Toronto with the promise of details to come. The temperature was expected to drop even further with a severe cold weather alert in effect. Someone in New Brunswick had turned themselves in after a stabbing outside a pizza place.

  She heard the sound of Mack unlocking the door between their two suites.

  “All clear.” He stuck his head through. “You good in here?”

  She nodded. “Yeah.”

  He popped back into his suite, leaving the door between their rooms open. She drained the pop and tossed the empty can in the garbage can. It bounced off the rim but fell in.

  The television told her a new book on trains was coming out and that Toronto’s mayor, Lisa Kats, was receiving the Order of Canada from the prime minister himself for her youth scholarship and charity work.

  Iris closed her eyes. The days she’d protested outside Mayor Kats’s office, trying to get someone to listen to her about Oscar Underwood, seemed so very long ago. Iris wasn’t sure the mayor deserved the praise she’d got in the past, let alone on this national stage. She especially objected to the fact the mayor threw lavish parties on her yachts for fashionable charitable causes and only gave her scholarships to high-achieving young people who went to private schools, instead of caring for the kind of people Iris saw walking through her door.

  But now she just prayed that one day she’d be able to meet with Mayor Kats about reopening the homeless center. She asked God to help soften her own heart and be less stubborn about believing her own plans and vision were the right ones.

  She heard the sound of water running from the other room, then the faint tap of something hitting porcelain, and it took her a moment to realize what it was. Mack was shaving. She vaguely remembered seeing him grab a pack of razors, a can of shaving cream and a small pair of scissors.

  Her first witness protection handler had taken her to a motel that hadn’t been much better than this one. Iris had lived there for three days, listening to a stranger give her the rules of living a life without friends or real connections with people. Then she’d moved to a small house on the edges of Hamilton, and her witness protection handler had become nothing more than a voice on a telephone she’d needed to talk to once a week and a name on a screen she had to text at predetermined times.

  It was a life with no real relationships, no community and no home, knowing each conversation she had and each person she met could potentially risk her life. Being on the road hadn’t been much better.

  Was that what life had been like for Mack all those times he went undercover as Graves, or someone similar? Never really letting anyone get to know him? Having no real relationships with anyone at all? Was the friendship they shared really something just as rare and special to him as it had been to her?

  “What are you watching?” Mack’s voice drew her attention back to the room.

  She opened her eyes. “It’s the only channel I could get,” she said.

  Her voice trailed off as she turned to face him. Mack stood in the doorway, running a towel over his face. Then he pulled the towel away and suddenly she could see his beardless face.

  There he was—the lines of his jaw, his cheeks, his grin—looking like the man she’d gotten so close to back in Toronto. The man she’d cared for and liked more than anyone she’d ever met.

  Mack was back. The Mack she’d cared about. The Mack who’d meant the world to her.

  She wanted to throw her arms around him and hug him. She also wanted to demand answers. How could he have gotten so close to her while undercover? Had he kissed her knowing his team was already on the way and they were about to leave each other’s lives in mere hours? What happened now?
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br />   His keen blue eyes darted from her face to the screen. His gaze sharpened.

  “What are you watching?” An edge moved through his voice so tense it was almost sharp.

  “I told you, it’s whatever news channel this place gets—”

  “Turn it up! Now!”

  She glanced around for the remote. He found it before she could and stepped between her and the television, momentarily blocking her view. She glanced past him. The news story about the murder in Toronto was on. White letters on a thick red bar read Manhunt.

  “How long has this been on?” He pushed a button repeatedly and the volume grew louder.

  “...Police have apprehended Hank Barrie of Sudbury in connection to the murder. Sources say Barrie was waiting for the victim inside a parking garage,” an unseen female newsreader was saying.

  “This story,” Mack went on. “How long has it been airing?”

  “I don’t know,” Iris said. “They’ve been teasing it ever since I came in. It’s been appearing in the news scroll. But I don’t know anything about it.”

  “A national warrant has been issued for RCMP Detective Mack Gray, who is accused of hiring Barrie to commit the murder...”

  Her heart froze.

  “Help me, Lord,” Mack prayed under his breath.

  She glanced past him at the screen. It was Mack, but as a much younger man, in a suit jacket and tie, with a thinner face and a leaner, almost hungry look to him, like an unfed wolf.

  “Born Mackenzie Gravenhurst, only child of millionaires Patrick and Annie Gravenhurst, he was raised in a life of extreme wealth and privilege...”

  “It’s me.” Mack turned to look at her. His face so pale, it echoed the unhealthy hue of the face on the screen.

  “Mackenzie Gravenhurst is one of your aliases,” she said. “Your covers?”

  “No.” His voice had a tinge of something like panic as he turned back to the screen. “I mean, that’s actually me.”

  “But I don’t understand,” she began. “How is that you and who do they think you killed?” Instinctively she reached for his hand, her fingers brushing against his before he pulled away.

  He raised his hand as if to shush her.

  “...Confidential sources report that RCMP Detective Gray has been on probation pending inquiry into irregularities in his recent investigation of agricultural magnate Oscar Underwood,” the voice on the television continued. “A national manhunt has been launched for Gray, who is accused of paying Barrie fifty thousand dollars cash to murder Underwood...”

  Oscar’s face filled the screen and Iris’s heart dropped inside her chest like a broken elevator.

  “Underwood was recently released on bail from jail where he’d been held in relation to alleged labor violations. Underwood was pronounced dead in hospital from a series of gunshot wounds to the chest and abdomen...”

  He was dead? Oscar Underwood, the man she was testifying against, who’d plunged her life into chaos and sent his Jackal henchmen after her, was dead?

  And Mack was accused of hiring the man who killed him?

  “Gray is considered armed and dangerous. Anyone with information is asked to call 911...”

  “We’ve got to go.” Mack spun toward her. His eyes met hers. “Now.”

  * * *

  Mack looked down at Iris sitting on the couch. His heart was smacking so hard against his chest he could barely breathe.

  But her head was shaking.

  “None of this makes any sense,” she said. “Oscar can’t be dead and you’re not a millionaire. And who’s Hank Barrie?”

  The television switched to a story about a spelling bee. Mack hit the mute button.

  “Barrie is a killer for hire, who’d sell out his own grandmother for enough money,” Mack said. “Guaranteed he’s banking on a very nice plea deal. Oscar Underwood could very much be dead, but someone is trying to frame me for it.”

  “But—but who’s Mackenzie Gravenhurst...”

  “He’s me,” Mack said, cutting her off before she said the words again. He shoved his feet into his boots, then scooped up hers and tossed them to her, before stooping to yank his laces tight. “I was born Mackenzie Gravenhurst, only child of millionaires Patrick and Annie Gravenhurst. My friends have always called me Mack and I legally changed my name when I was in the police academy. The fact that reporters figured out that I was born a Gravenhurst that fast is an interesting piece of the puzzle I have no time to even consider now. I’m guessing they were tipped off. But a millionaire cop accused of hiring a killer makes a pretty good news story.”

  He glanced out the window. The parking lot looked just as dark and empty as it had when they’d arrived. He checked that both the doorknob and deadbolt were locked, then dashed into the adjoining room and glanced at his phone. The screen was dead. His phone wouldn’t charge and he had no way to contact his team.

  Help me, Lord.

  He threw his coat on. “Once Noel sees my face and figures out there’s a national manhunt on for someone staying at his motel, he’s going to call the police. So, we need to get out of here.”

  He stood up, crossed to the window and looked out at an alley below. They were only a single story off the ground, and the pavement was thick with snow. It wasn’t great as far as landings went, but he could make it.

  He ran back to Iris. She was still sitting on the couch, semi-frozen, with her foot halfway into her second boot. A myriad of expressions weaved across her face, from confusion to fear to disbelief. She was probably in a bit of shock from new information overload. He understood, but they didn’t have time to waste.

  “So even your entire childhood was a lie,” she said slowly. “You really did lie to me about everything.”

  There was the faint crunch of a car pulling up outside. He crossed the floor and looked out. A lone cop car now sat on the far side of the lot. There were two officers inside.

  “I didn’t lie to you about any of it, I promise.” He dropped to one knee in front of her and gently helped tie her laces. “I know it looks that way, and I don’t have time to explain it to you now. When I can, I will. But right now, I need to run. I need to get somewhere safe, regroup, contact my team and figure it out from there.”

  He finished the laces of one boot and started on the other.

  “There are already two cops outside,” he said. “Pretty soon there will be more. And I’m not going to just turn myself in to the first cop I see and hope for the best. For all I know, they’ve been told to shoot me on sight. But even if all they do is throw me in jail for a while as this thing is being sorted out, I know a whole lot of convicted criminals who’d be all too happy to see the man who put them there tossed in with them. Discovering I’m actually both a cop and a millionaire’s son is not going to make them any less hungry for revenge.”

  He could count on one hand the number of times he’d felt truly terrified of something and this was one of them. If he was tossed into general population, he’d be in a constant fight for his life.

  “But I’m going to get us out of here,” he said, taking her hands. “Here’s the plan. I’m going to jump out the bathroom window into the alley behind the motel. Once I do, I want you to wait until you see me disappear around the end of the alley and then start screaming. I mean really screaming, full volume, enough that any law enforcement in this place will come running up here full speed to see what’s wrong. While you’re distracting them, I’ll nab us transport. As soon as you hear them coming, run through to the adjoining room and lock yourself in. I’ll be back outside the window waiting for you faster than they can break through all three doors. You jump out, I’ll catch you, we’ll run and regroup with witness protection.” He got to his feet and stuffed the snacks he’d bought back into the plastic bag. Then he tucked the bag inside his coat. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe.”

  “Safe fro
m what?” Iris’s hazel eyes met his. “If Oscar’s dead, there’s no witness protection for me anymore, right? Even if I wanted to be relocated, the RCMP isn’t going to do it, because there’s no trial for me to testify at, there’s no big bad guy for the RCMP to protect me from now, and no reason for Oscar’s Jackals to keep pursuing me. I’m not a witness anymore. I’m just a person who has nothing and whose life was ruined.”

  His heart stopped. How had he not seen this? What was he thinking? He couldn’t ask Iris to come with him. He was about to run from the police because he’d been framed for murder and there was a warrant out for his arrest. That was his choice and he could make peace with it. But he couldn’t just take a civilian along with him for the ride. Or ask this incredible woman to go on the run with him, just because his life was in danger.

  “You’re right,” he said, the words tumbling from his mouth. “If Oscar’s dead, you’re not a witness anymore. Your life might no longer be in danger. I don’t know for sure. You could walk right up to the police outside, and they’ll probably help you. There’s a lot I don’t know right now. But I do know I can’t ask you to come with me. I can’t guarantee that’s the right decision or tell you that’s what you should do.”

  “I know.” She stood and faced him. “Believe me, after what I’ve just learned about you, part of me is tempted to just say goodbye right now, let you run and try to make it on my own. After I go talk to the police and confirm Oscar’s really dead, I’ll just lie low for a while until I’m sure the Jackals are no longer after me and then somehow get home to my family and start my life over again. I’ve made it just fine so long on my own, you’re wanted by police and now Oscar’s gone. But...”

  The word hung in the air for a long moment, and she took a deep breath. Then she stepped toward him. Her hand brushed the side of his face and he felt himself shiver as her fingers touched his damp, freshly shaved skin.

  “But there’s something inside me that’s just not ready to let you go,” she said. “It’s telling me I’m still in danger and that the safest place to be right now is by your side. So, whoever you’ve been and whatever you’ve done, do you give me your word right here and now that you will keep me safe?”