The Girl Who Survived(87)

Still kneeling, he shined the light on the thick plastic and saw the roll of cash, a burner phone, and several small bags of weed, which would be like cash in states where marijuana was still illegal.

A small stake.

But it would have to do.

He stuffed the bag into a pocket of his vest.

And felt something brush the back of his leg.

He froze.

What?

There it was again—

His heart stilled.

Every muscle in his body reacted before he realized his mistake.

The cat! Shit! Britt’s damned cat Jasper had sauntered stealthily into the room unnoticed and was crawling over the backs of his calves. Relieved but irritated, Chad pushed the tabby roughly away, toward the door, and climbed to his feet just as the light snapped on, casting the small, pine-paneled room in harsh illumination.

Brittlynn was standing in the doorway.

“What the hell are you doing?” she asked. “God, you’re dressed and sneaking around and . . .” Her gaze landed Chad’s duffel bag gaping open on her grandmother’s old brass bed with its handstitched quilt.

“What does it look like?”

“Like you’re leaving,” she accused. Her red hair was a mess, her gaze still bleary from sleep, her oversize T-shirt she always slept in, an old souvenir from a U2 concert, wrinkled.

Chad had hoped he could sneak out without waking her and therefore not being asked dozens of questions. She usually slept like the dead. Not tonight. “Why are you awake?”

“I had to pee. And what does that matter?” Her little pointed chin jutted and traces of yesterday’s mascara shadowed the skin around her eyes. “What’s going on, Chad?”

He zipped the bag. “What’s it look like?”

“Like you’re leaving.” An accusation. “Again.” A beat, and then, “Without me.”

“Just for a few days.”

“How many is ‘a few’?”

“I don’t know yet.” He tried on a confident smile, but couldn’t make it stick.

“You weren’t going to tell me.” Fire was starting to blaze in her eyes. “You were going to sneak out in the middle of the night and just leave. Shit, Chad, I can’t believe this!”

“Of course I was going to tell you,” he lied, trying to diffuse the suddenly volatile situation. “I just didn’t want to wake you up.”

“So what were you gonna do? Just leave a damned note on the kitchen table?

He was starting to get mad. He didn’t have time for this bullshit. “I-I don’t know, Britt. I just have to get out.”

“What about work?”

“I have it covered. Lance needed an extra shift. Could use the money.”

“We could use the money. What the fuck are you thinking?”

“Just go back to bed, okay? I’ve got this all handled.”

“What? You’ve got what handled?” she demanded as he slipped the strap of the duffel over his shoulder and forced his way past her. “What the hell’s going on, Chad?” she demanded, storming after him to the kitchen.

He stopped at the back door to step into his boots.

“Don’t. Don’t leave.”

“I have to.”

“But why?” And then the light dawned and she rolled her eyes. “This is about Jonas McIntyre.” She flipped on the lights, illuminating the orange Formica that was stained and chipped near the stove.

“He’s out.”

“He’s in the hospital. I don’t think he’s much of a threat.”

“Gotta go.” He laced both boots and straightened just as the cat hopped onto the kitchen counter and Brittlynn scooped the silver tabby into her arms. “Do you honestly think Jonas McIntyre is going to hunt you down?” I thought we talked about this already.”

“I’m not worried about him.”

She wasn’t convinced. “I thought you said if he ever got out, he would come gunning for you.”

“That’s not the problem.” He pulled his grandfather’s old Winchester from a hook near the back door. “It’s the cops. They’ll be lookin’ for someone to blame.”

“For what? You were already cleared for the murders on the mountain all those years ago.” A tiny smile lifted one corner of her mouth, and her green eyes glinted with a bit of evil he’d found fascinating from the first time he’d set eyes on her. “I’ll still back you up.” She petted the cat slowly, almost sensually.

“And what about Margrove, the lawyer?”

“You weren’t involved in that.” Her gaze fastened hard on hers. Her hand stopped stroking Jasper. “Right?”

“Oh, great, now you’re doubting me, too? Give me a fuckin’ break. I’m just sayin’ that his trailer is, like, two miles from here as the crow flies. They’re going to come snooping. They’ve already called work, y’know? Someone called Ted at the lodge checkin’ on me.”

“So what?” She lifted her shoulders and the big T-shirt slid off of one of her shoulders in a provocative way he found absolutely irresistible. And she knew it, the way she sauntered closer to him, her gaze smoldering as her eyes held his. “I’ll say that you were with me all night.”