The First Death (Columbia River, #4)(72)

Iris caught her words as she returned from locking the back door. She’d joined the line dance lesson for a few seconds on her way back, acting as if nothing were going on three houses down. “I agree with Rowan. They’ll go ballistic. Let the police handle it first.”

Rowan opened the front door and found herself staring at Evan. His eyes narrowed as he studied her face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Rowan stepped through the door and closed it before her mother or Iris could say a word. “Come with me for a minute.” She led him to the driveway and peered up the street. A county deputy’s car was slowly coming their way. “That was fast! There must have been a unit nearby.”

“Rowan,” Evan said, impatience in his tone.

She faced him. “Sorry. Iris saw a guy dash off the sidewalk three houses down when he saw her car, and then the neighbor spotted him hiding in her front yard’s bushes. We told her to call the police since Adam is out of jail and who knows what he’ll try.”

“Adam?” Evan took a few steps to get a better look down the street. The cruiser had parked three houses down and two deputies had gotten out and were scanning the area.

Rowan saw a movement from the corner of her eye. Turning her head, she saw a man duck behind a vehicle two houses away but across the street.

Did he see me spot him?

“Evan,” she said in a low voice. “A man is hiding behind that little silver sedan in the second driveway.”

He immediately looked.

“You can’t see him. He dropped down when I looked at him. It was deliberate.”

“Was it Adam?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll go talk to the deputies.” Evan handed her his jacket, exposing his shoulder holster, and walked to the county cruiser.

Rowan kept her gaze glued on the silver car across the street, waiting for more movement. She heard voices and turned to see that the rest of her family had come out of the house. Her father had West by the hand, and she could tell by the look on his face that he knew exactly why she was standing outside. Ivy’s eyes were hard as she approached Rowan.

Rowan knew to stay put. The situation had suddenly become a police action.

“You think Adam is in the neighborhood?” Ivy asked Rowan. She looked ready to go Adam hunting and rip his limbs off with her bare hands.

“There’s a man hiding behind a car down the street,” said Rowan, gently taking her sister’s arm to keep her in place. “Evan and the deputies will check it out. We need to stay here.”

The rest of her group moved to watch. “Maybe we should go inside,” said Rowan. “We don’t know—”

A shout cut her off, and the three men broke into a run. The man behind the silver car had sprinted up the street with Evan and the two deputies tearing after him.

“Was that Adam?” Ivy asked, pulling against Rowan’s hold.

“I couldn’t tell.”

The man vanished around the corner of another house, and the three law enforcement officers went after him.





39


My heart pounds and my lungs beg for air. I can’t run much farther.

I dart between two homes and glance back.

Now there are four men after me. Three of them cops.

If they catch me, they’ll eventually find out about the bodies.

I should have left as soon as I saw the police car. But I couldn’t bring myself to leave.

“Deschutes County sheriff! Stop!”

I pour on more speed, but I know my reserves are almost gone. I turn and run across the wide yard of a home. I risk another look back.

A man in jeans is right behind me, his eyes intense.

I take two more running strides, and his weight hits my back. I go down and land on my chest with him on top of me. Air is forced out of my chest, and suddenly the other cops are there. They grab my arms, wrenching them back, and handcuffs clank, digging into my wrists.

The man pushes himself off me, and I gasp for breath.

I bury my face in the grass. It’s over.

I’m going to prison.

Hands dig in all the pockets of my jeans. “Where’s your ID?”

I don’t answer. I know men carry wallets, but I’ve never needed one. I don’t have credit cards or a license. They toss my cash on the grass near my face.

The folded bundle seems so small. Besides the clothes I’m wearing, it’s all I have in the entire world.

I was so close.

The men haul me up to a sitting position, and the one without a uniform squats in front of me. “What’s your name?”

I say nothing and stare at the grass.

“What were you doing behind that car?”

I say nothing.

“Why’d you run when you saw us?”

I shrug and keep my gaze down.

“Do you know Adam Thornton?”

I glance up and shake my head, wondering who that is.

“You sure?” The man’s voice is rough, and he’s still breathing hard.

“Don’t know him,” I mutter.

“How about Ivy Wolff?”

I straighten and meet his gaze.

“That got your attention,” says the brown-eyed man.

I realize he must be a cop too. He has a shoulder holster with a gun, and the other police stand back, letting him speak. Maybe he’s their boss.