Page 21 of Resolutions

He grins. “I watch a lot of crime dramas on Netflix.”

One final hug from the grandmother, her fierce protectiveness bringing fresh tears. Then I'm gone. She pushes the stack of money into my hand and closes it. I get in my car and as I drive toward the bank, I realize - I'm not alone in this fight. There are still good people willing to help a stranger run from evil.

Chapter 9

Melanie

Not knowing how long it will take to resolve this situation, if I can resolve it. I withdraw as much cash as possible from every card. Michael's reach through technology terrifies me, but for now, I'll work with cash. Then I head out of town, the opposite way I came yesterday, putting miles between me and Whispering Pines.

“Incoming call, Cameron My Love.”

Sighing, I drive south first; I can't help but check my rearview mirror every couple of minutes. After a bit, I turn west and keep going. To where, I don't know. Is this what my life has been reduced to? Fleeing in panic?

My mind empties as my inner voice asks if the alternative is facing Michael. That thought causes my breath to catch in my throat, and I almost pee my pants.

Mile after empty mile passes as questions circle in my head like vultures. Why me? What does he really want?

“Incoming call from Debbie.”

The motel address from the boy burns in my pocket, but I hesitate. If Michael discovers the connection to the grandmother... No. I won't risk bringing his wrath down on people who helped me. He wouldn't hesitate to hurt or even kill them. I'm certain Mr. Daggers wouldn't either. My mind plays out the image of Michael restraining the grandson, forcing him to watch while Daggers brandishes his namesake on the grandparents. I shiver and shake my head.

The sun beams in on Moses, who is currently belly up asleep in the passenger seat. I should have thought before bringing him. I really should have. But I have to admit I'm glad he's here. As if he can hear me, he stretches his left leg into the air, stretching his paw.

A sign for a mom-and-pop gas station appears and I take the exit. I need a bathroom and coffee, in that order. Inside, a grizzled man with an enormous wispy beard and grimy overalls mans the counter. He's transfixed by the TV behind him. Some crime show plays, barely audible. I'm not even sure he knows I'm here.

After using the bathroom, I grab a coffee. After taking a sniff, I add heaping amounts of powdered creamer, hoping it will help. “Could I prepay fifty plus this cup of coffee?”

“Hold on, ain't seen this one.” He waves me to be quiet. “This girl's been running from the law and her husband for years. She's gonna tell how she stayed hid.”

I edge closer. The woman looks like an everyday person and I'm drawn in. “Could you turn it up? I haven't seen this one,” I say, knowing full well that I haven't seen any of these shows. I think of the grandson and his sound advice that came from watching Netflix.

The volume rises as a woman explains: “The internet's full of tips from women trying to hide. I'm not the first who's done it. Honestly, Google was my survival guide.”

“Damn, that's brilliant,” I breathe.

“Yep, them criminals love that damn internet, not me. I don't want big brother watch'n me.” His gaze crawls over me. “Fifty, right, sweetheart?”

“Yes, please.” I tuck my hair back nervously, handing him the money.

A smile starts in the corner of his mouth. “Next episode's starting if you wanna stay and watch. I was gonna make popcorn and a Hot Pocket.”

“Thanks, but I'm running late.” Grabbing my coffee, I practically throw myself out the door.

While I'm pumping gas, I want to laugh and cry. Google. Of course. I manage web journalists for a living, but I didn't think to use the internet to stay alive? Some journalist I am.

Back in the car, I start it up and a strange ring starts. Not my phone. No lights on the dashboard. Moses glares at me from the passenger seat, annoyed at being disturbed from his nap.

“Sorry, handsome, but what the hell was that?”

The ringing stops. Then my car announces: “Incoming call from Michael.”

Ice floods my veins. Holding my breath, I check the mirrors frantically no cars visible. I move my jacket to cover Moses. The strange ring again. I look out my side window and see the man inside watching me, a Hot Pocket in his hand. Another ring. What is going on? Where is that coming from?

“Incoming call from Michael.”

Damn it! I have to answer. My hands shake as I press the answer button on the steering wheel. I wish with all my wishes I didn't have to answer it, but my mom and aunt's lives depend on it.

“What.” The word comes out harsh with fear.

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