Page 24 of Mountain Captive

Gloom settled over Chris. “Do you think I should move and change my name too?”

“No, no! They don’t know where you are. If they did, they wouldn’t have wasted their time with me. There’s no need for you to worry. I wouldn’t even have bothered you with this, except I wanted you to know I’ll be unreachable for a few days. Just until I get resettled.”

“Of course I’m worried, Mom! What if they come after you again?”

“They won’t. I’ve gotten very good at covering my tracks. I’m going to hang up now, sweetie. Love you. Talk to you soon. Oh, and next time we talk, remember—my new name is April.”

Chris hung up the phone and slumped onto the sofa, stomach churning. Her mother hadn’t sounded scared or even terribly upset. The two of them had moved five times between Chris’s twelfth and eighteenth birthdays, and her mother had relocated twice more since Chris had left home. After all these years of running and hiding, Chris sometimes thought her mother enjoyed the challenge and the chance to start over and remake herself once again.

Whereas all Chris had ever wanted was to sink roots in one place, to be part of a community. She had found that here in Eagle Mountain. She had artist friends and her search and rescue friends and people whom she believed cared about her. Though she wasn’t particularly close to any single person, she felt comfortable with them all. The thought of having to leave that behind was too heavy a burden to carry.

And all because one evil man was fixated on her. The Exalted had been getting his way for so long he couldn’t bear the thought of anyone denying him—even a child, as she had been when she ran away from him. She wanted the running and hiding to stop, but she didn’t know how to make it happen.

She still remembered her father, lying on the bed in their little trailer, writhing in agony. This was what the Exalted’s punishment looked like. If the Vine ever caught up with her, they would make sure she obeyed, or they would mete out a similar fate. She was as sure of that as she had once been certain of the other teachings she had learned as a little girl. She had left those other false beliefs behind, but watching her father die had sealed this one certainty within her. She couldn’t risk the Exalted catching up with her, so she had to keep running.

BEFORECHRISEVENopened her eyes the next morning, she had the dreamlike sensation of being in an unfamiliar place. She opened her eyes to a shadowed bedroom, a thin comforter over the top of the bed, Harley stretched out along her side. No dream, then. She was in the guest room in Rand’s home. For a few seconds the terror of those moments in the closet, hearing heavy footsteps approach her hiding place, threatened to overwhelm her. She rested a hand on the dog, feeling his side rise and fall, and grew calmer. She was safe. No one was going to hurt her.

She sat up and looked around the plain but comfortable guest room. Moving around so much, she was used to being in unfamiliar places, but almost always alone or with her mother. Not in a house belonging to a man she really liked but wasn’t sure she should be with.

She got up and got ready for the day. Dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, she went downstairs to let Harley out. The rooms were empty, Rand’s SUV no longer parked out front. While Harley patrolled the property, she hunted in the kitchen for coffee and started it brewing. Rand had left a note on the kitchen table with a set of car keys.

My shift is 6–4 today. The keys are to the Jeep in the garage. Feel free to use it. Help yourself to anything you like. Text if you need anything. Rand

Harley scratched at the door, and after making sure the noise really was from the dog, she let him in, then carried a cup of coffee upstairs and started the shower.

After she and the dog both had breakfast, she wandered the house. Rand had a few decent pieces of art on the walls—a mix of photos and original oils or watercolors, some from local artists she knew. His bookshelves housed medical texts, historical nonfiction and detective stories. One photo showed him standing with an older man and woman, the man an older version of Rand himself.So these must be his parents.No photo of his sister. Maybe that reminder would be too painful.

She avoided his bedroom. She was nosy, but she wasn’t going to be that intrusive. House tour over, she returned to her room and made her bed but was unable to settle. She needed something to focus on besides the Vine. Usually, she could lose herself in her art, but she didn’t have any supplies.

“Want to go for a ride, Harley?”

The dog wagged his tail and trotted ahead of her down the stairs. She collected the keys from the kitchen table and headed for the garage. Nice that Rand had a spare vehicle. One the Vine wouldn’t recognize as hers.

At the last minute, she texted him. If he came home before she returned, she didn’t want him to think the worst. Plus, her work with search and rescue had ingrained in her the advice that when setting out alone on a risky activity like a hike or skiing, it was smart to let someone know your plans. Running errands in town shouldn’t be risky, but considering her situation, it might be.

Decided to run a few errands in town. Back soon.

He responded with a thumbs-up emoji. She smiled. Odd how that made her feel better. She headed toward her apartment, almost without thinking. But she didn’t park in back. Instead, she pulled the Jeep into a parking spot right in front of the gallery and sat for a few minutes, observing passers-by. No one looked like anyone from the Vine. Over the years she had gotten good at spotting them, with their slightly outdated fashion and simple hairstyles; the men always clean shaven, the women without makeup. Even more important, no one was paying particular attention to the building or to her.

Harley waited on the sidewalk while Chris went inside the gallery. The bell on the door sounded, and Jasmine bustled out of the workroom in the back. She stopped short when she recognized Chris. Today the frames of her glasses were red, matching the large red stones in her earrings. “Chris, how are you?” she asked, then hurried over to give her a hug.

Chris patted Jasmine awkwardly on the back and stepped out of her embrace. “I’m fine.”

Jasmine nodded. “You look better. Not so pale. What happened last night was horrible. Do you have any idea who would do such a thing?”

“None,” she lied. “I stopped by to pick up some supplies.”

She had hoped to change the subject, but Jasmine didn’t take the hint. “I’ve got someone coming tomorrow to see about replacing the doors on your apartment,” she said. “But you’re going to have a major mess to clean up. The sheriff’s department left fingerprint dust, or whatever you call it, everywhere.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Chris said. “I’ll take care of it. And I’ll reimburse you for the doors.”

Jasmine shook her head. “I told you, my insurance will take care of that. But what happened? The sheriff’s deputy didn’t say much, just that someone tried to break in.”

“I think they had me confused with someone else,” she lied again. She didn’t want to go into the whole backstory. The circumstances would probably make Jasmine think twice about renting to her. “I just came in for a few things, then I’ll be out of your way.” In addition to the artwork for sale, Jasmine stocked a small selection of canvases, paints, pastels, sketchbooks and other supplies.

“Oh, honey, you’re no trouble. You’re the best tenant I ever had. Most of the time I wouldn’t even know you’re up there, you’re so quiet.” Jasmine followed her over to the corner devoted to supplies. “Deputy Gwynn said there were two guys who tried to break in, but they got away. He told me to keep an eye out for anyone hanging around the store, but I haven’t seen anyone. Did you get a good look at them? Do you know who they are?”

“I only had a brief glimpse of them.” Chris selected a sketchbook and pencils. “It was dark, and they were wearing ski masks.”

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