Page 15 of Hiding in Montana

“Hey, Margo, how did you know I was having trouble sleeping?”

“It’s not Margo.”

The deep male voice paralyzed her. A thousand thoughts raced through her mind. How did Matthew get her cell number? Surely Margo wouldn’t have given it to him.

“Paulina, can you hear me?” His voice commanded a response.

She bolted out of bed and paced the small room. “Matthew, why are you calling me?”

“What? No hello to your favorite ex-husband?” His voice was monotone, and she could picture his face as clearly as if he were standing in front of her.

“You’re my only ex-husband. How did you get my number and why are you calling me?” She hoped her voice sounded controlled and mildly interested as she fought the panic that constricted her throat.

“No worries, my dear Paulina. I wanted you to know that the case against me has finally been put in the cold case files. So, you don’t need to worry about having to testify against me.”

“I told you I’d never do that.” The band around her chest tightened, and she fought to maintain control. She breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth, just like her therapist at the rehab clinic taught her when she was going into fight-or-flight mode.

“I know, and I believe you. Have you completely recovered from your fall?”

She dropped to the chair next to the dresser and dropped her head between her knees, still holding the phone to her ear.

“I’m fine.” Not that he cared, but she wasn’t about to poke the rattlesnake. Not now. “You didn’t say how you got my number?”

“Margo should be more careful with papers she discards. You might mention she should invest in a paper shredder.” He coughed. “Your secret location is safe as I promised you, as long as you don’t come back to Portland and you maintain your new identity in whatever Podunk town you wound up in.”

“How do you know I’m not living in Chicago or another city?” And then it hit her like a sledgehammer connecting to an iron. It was a good thing she was sitting or she would have fallen to the floor. Matthew knew exactly where she was and he had probably always known and what he just said clicked. “You knew about the accident?”

“Paulina, think about that statement. Even though we are no longer married, it doesn’t mean I won’t continue to look out for you.”

She didn’t hear a threat in his words, more a reminder she’d never be totally free.

“Now you must tell me. Have you made your mark in flowers like you wanted?”

Idle chitchat was not one of his interests. He didn’t really care what her answer would be. She sat up straight on the chair, growing in confidence as if the metal rods in her back were giving her support.

“I’m happy, Matthew.” That was all she was willing to tell him. “Please don’t feel you need to check in on me again. I’m fine.”

“Just do me one favor if you’re ever contacted by the authorities. Reach out to me first. I wouldn’t want you to have to talk to anyone without a lawyer by your side.”

“So now you’re offering me an attorney to either take me down in flames or make sure I toe the line?” She kept the bitterness from her voice. “I thought you said everything was fine.”

“It is. But these things have a way of gaining new life.”

Those words hit home. The only way it would ever truly be over is when they were all dead.

“Good night, Paulina.” The line went silent.

Polly sat in the darkened room, her heart hammering. For a moment, she thought about tossing some clothes in a bag and leaving. Common sense prevailed. If he had known she was here and never bothered to reach out, there was no reason to think it would change. She slipped between the sheets and pulled the covers up to her chin. Sleep wouldn’t come easily tonight.

8

Clint took Polly’s front steps two at a time and tapped on her door at ten on the dot. It was a perfect day for a horseback ride and picnic. The wooden door swung inward, and she wore a sunny smile. She unlocked the screen door and pushed it open.

“Hey there.” She offered her cheek for a peck. He liked that she was getting more comfortable with him every time they saw each other.

He stepped into the small entranceway. “You look great.” She had on light blue jeans and a sleeveless blouse, and her hair was pulled off her face. She looked young and carefree, which made him grin.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” She pointed in the direction of the kitchen. “I packed lunch, but it needs to stay cool. There’s salad, some fried chicken, and fruit with cheese.”

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