Mountain Hideaway
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Christy Barritt
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Tessa Jones flung herself across the couch toward the lamp and pulled the switch so hard the ceramic base nearly toppled onto the wooden floor below. With quick breaths, she darted toward the wall.
She pulled her sweater closer around her neck and forced air into her lungs. Anxiety pressed down on her and adrenaline surged, the mix making her head spin.
Slowly, she edged toward the window. She had to look. She had no choice.
With all the lights extinguished in her home, anyone lurking outside shouldn’t see her. Still, she had to be careful. She had no idea who or what was on the other side of that glass. Here in the middle of nowhere, there were no neighbors to hear her scream, to rush to her rescue. If something happened to her, she might not be found for days.
That had worked to her advantage...until today.
At this moment, she craved having someone nearby to help her, to be a second set of eyes. But she’d been mentally preparing for months to be self-reliant if a situation like this ever occurred. She’d only hoped it would never come to this.
As she turned toward the window, her eyes adjusted to the darkness. She stared hard yet cautiously into the abyss of thick woods surrounding the property.
Certainly, the speck of light bobbing on the horizon had just been her imagination. There was no one out there among the trees and the steep landscape of the mountain terrain. There couldn’t be. No one even knew this place was here.
Blackness stared back, and her heart slowed.
It had been her imagination. Just her imagination. Maybe her paranoia. It didn’t matter, as long as what she’d seen hadn’t been real.
Just then something flickered in the distance.
She blinked, her momentary relief instantly vanishing. She clutched her chest as her heart thumped out of control. Despite the cold, sweat spread across her forehead.
The light was small, like a flashlight, and it continued to bob through the woods.
Someone was walking. Toward the cabin. Toward her.
Leo’s men had found her, she realized.
Fear paralyzed her.
It didn’t matter that she’d run through this potential scenario a million times. That she’d rehearsed what she would do. That she’d planned the best course of escape.
Right now, all of those thoughts disappeared.
She’d been here eight months. She’d thought she was safe. She’d prayed she was.
But God had stopped answering her prayers a long time ago.
The beam grew larger as it neared the property. Whoever was holding the light had probably seen the lamp on. Knew that Tessa was here. Hiding, at this point, would be fruitless.
No, she had to run.
She shook her head, thoughts colliding inside.
If she ran, the mountains would kill her, even if whoever was after her didn’t. It was too dark. There were too many cliffs. Too many unknowns.
Either way, she had to move, and now!
She grabbed a backpack from her closet. She’d put it together just in case something like this ever happened. It had a flashlight, some cash, some water and a small blanket. After she slung the bag over her shoulders, she crept to the back door. She had to be decisive, to stop hesitating. If she wasn’t, the person out there would reach the cabin and might hear her leave. Might sneak around to the back and catch her.
It took every ounce of her determination to pull the door open. A brisk wind blew inside. Though it was late autumn, the air felt brutally cold here in the middle of the mountains, especially at night.
She was going to miss this cabin. Miss this life.
The thought of starting over again made Tessa’s head pound, made her feel as though a rock had been placed on her chest.
But she’d have time to worry about that later. Right now, she had to concentrate on surviving.
She quietly closed the door behind her. On her tiptoes, she started toward the woodshed in the distance. She’d hide out there and see what unfolded. She didn’t have much choice. If the intruder came too close, she could dart into the woods. She’d take her chances there before she’d take them at the hands of the ruthless men who Leo had probably sent after her.
Ducking behind the rough wood of the shed, she crouched, desperate to stay concealed. As the wind blew, the leaves swept across the ground. The sound, normally comforting, made her nerves tighten.
She held her breath, listening for any indications of the intruder.
She heard nothing.
That was when her mind began running through scenarios and she remembered—
Her car!
Of course, anyone after her would see her car. They’d know she was here. They’d tear everything apart until they found her. And once they found her... She shuddered to think of what would happen then.
If she somehow happened to escape, they could easily trace her license plate. They’d put one and one together. She felt hunted and as if there was no safe place for her to hide. Her cubbyhole away from the world had been compromised.
She’d have to start over again with a new identity, a new home, a new everything.
How could she go on like this for the rest of her life? Living with this kind of fear wasn’t living at all. It was surviving.
Just as she closed her eyes, on the verge of praying for mercy, she heard a bang. She clutched her chest. As she peered around the corner, the back door flung open.
The wind! Tessa realized.
The door had never latched easily. In her haste to get out of the house, she must not have pulled hard enough.
Now there was no hiding the fact that she was nearby. It was a matter of evading the intruder more than it was about hiding.
Despair bit deep. Maybe it would just be easier to give up.
No, Tessa reminded herself. No matter how tempting the thought might be at times, she knew she couldn’t surrender. Leo didn’t deserve to win, and she wouldn’t go down without a fight.
Leo McAllister, her ex-fiancé, had already turned her life upside down when she’d caught him in the middle of smuggling blueprints for dangerous weapons to terrorists overseas. She’d tried to gather evidence to nail him, but she’d failed. That was when she’d known she had no choice but to run.
He’d sent men after her and they’d soon found her at the first place she’d sought refuge—an old house she’d rented with cash and a fake name. She’d discovered the cottage off a lonely country road in the rolling hills of Virginia and had thought she’d found the perfect hideaway. She’d been wrong. While coming home from buying groceries, she’d seen the men inside her temporary home and had fled.
Tessa had barely gotten away. She wouldn’t have escaped if it hadn’t been for a drawbridge that she’d crossed just in time.
Now Tessa waited, holding her breath, to see what would happen next. In theory, she’d been living like this ever since that life-changing day when she’d discovered Leo’s true colors.
The light appeared again.
The intruder was inside her cabin now, she was certain.
A voice drifted out, but she couldn’t make out the words.
As the wind brushed her again, her nose tingled. It wouldn’t be too long before her ears, her cheeks and her fingers all went numb. So many things could go wrong right now.
She squinted as someone stepped out the back door. The flashlight nearly caught her, but she tucked herself back behind the shed in time. As she saw the beam fade to the other side of the property, she stole another glance.
The man on her deck was tall and broad. He wore a black coat—leather, maybe—and low-slung jeans. He didn’t look familiar but, then again, it was dark. Besides, the McAllisters had enough money to hire people to do their dirty work. Leo would never do this kind of job himself.
The man stepped off the deck and walked around the side of the house. Her heart pounded in her ears as she waited for what seemed like hours. He circled the house twice. Shone his light into her car. Surveyed the area around the cabin.
Then he started toward the woods near the shed.
Tessa held her breath. No! Not back here.
His footsteps stopped.
Slowly, the sound faded, almost as if he was...retreating?
She counted to ten before peering around the corner again. In the distance, she saw the light disappear into the woods. He was leaving.
He was leaving!
But why? Maybe he wasn’t one of the men after her. Maybe he was just a passerby whose car had broken down or a hunter checking out the area. Maybe he’d gotten lost on the winding road and had come looking for directions.
None of those things sounded quite true, even in her own mind, but she couldn’t think too long.
Once the light disappeared well out of sight, she hurried to the house.
She’d forgotten her car keys. She had to grab them and get out of here. There was no time to waste.
She shuddered as she scrambled over the crispy leaves across her backyard. She sprinted up the steps, mentally reviewing where she’d left them. She couldn’t risk turning the lights on. Relying on her memory, she rushed toward the kitchen table. Her purse was there.
Had the man seen it? Had he looked inside and seen her license?
Her hands trembled now. She snatched the bag, her gaze frantically searching the countertop for the keys. Thankfully they were right beside the coffeepot where she’d left them.
She lunged toward them and felt the metal against her fingers.
Now she just had to get out of here.
Just as she turned, she sensed someone behind her. Before she could scream, a hand covered her mouth.
And, for the first time in years, she prayed.
* * *
Trent McCabe hated to scare the woman—to scare any woman. But if he didn’t grab her now, she’d run. Then he’d never have any answers to the heavy questions hanging over his head.
He couldn’t let her get away. There were too many reasons why it would be a bad idea.
He kept one hand firmly over her mouth and his other arm locked her elbows against her body. He lifted her off her feet, and she kicked, flailing. But she wasn’t going anywhere. Trent would give her a few minutes and, once she was worn out from struggling, he’d try to talk to her. She’d left him with very few options.
She fought against him, each jerk full of fight. He had to admire her for that. But he’d fought enough battles and had enough muscles and brawn to easily overtake her. She would wear out much sooner than he would. He just had to be patient.
She paused and her chest heaved as if she was gulping in breaths. His heart lurched as he realized just how terrified the woman was. He’d never meant for things to play out like this. He’d just been so desperate to find her.
“I’m not going to hurt you. I just have a few questions,” he murmured in his most calming, apologetic voice. “Quiet down.”
His words had the opposite effect and seemed to propel her back into action. She began thrashing again, trying desperately to get out of his grip. This woman wasn’t going to give up, was she? She had more fight than he’d guessed.
Trent stood there, waiting patiently. But he gave her credit for her efforts. She was giving it all she had.
“Listen, your mom sent me,” he finally said.
She slowed for a moment. Without even seeing her face, he knew the wheels in her brain were turning, were processing the information. That was a good sign.
“I’m going to move my hand from your mouth so we can talk. Okay?” he soothed as a tremble began shaking her muscles.
She remained where she was, her breathing too shallow for her own good.
“Okay?” he repeated.
Finally, she nodded her head.
One of his hands slipped back down to his side. She remained eerily still, not saying a word but unable to run. He waited for her to speak.
They said good things came to those who waited, and the saying had proved to be true more than once in his life. Though it had also proved deadly. He hoped that wouldn’t be the case now.
“My mom’s dead,” she finally said, her voice just above a whisper.
“No, she’s not. You and I both know that.”
“Let me go. Let’s talk like two humans.” Her voice shook with emotion, yet based on the tight cadence of her words, she was trying to control her fear.
Guilt flashed through him. He hated for this to be his only means of talking to her. His mom had raised him better than this. But what else was he supposed to do? Drastic situations called for drastic actions.
He had his doubts, but he realized that acting as if she was his captive wouldn’t get him very far. Hesitantly, he released his clamp across her arms. “Fine. Let’s talk.”
As soon as she was out of his grasp, she darted to the kitchen counter and grabbed a knife from the butcher block. She held it in front of her. Even in the dark, Trent could see the desperate gleam in her gaze. “Step back.”
He raised his hands. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“You break into my home, practically take me hostage and then tell me your intentions are golden? I don’t think so.”
“Don’t forget that I also let you go,” he reminded her, willfully trying to gain her trust. He knew he could easily work that knife from her hands, but he’d scared the woman enough already. “I didn’t want you to run away. That’s the only reason I grabbed you like that.”
“Justify it however you want. You need to get out of my house. Now.” She pointed toward the door with her knife.
“I just want to talk. Besides, this isn’t your house, is it?”
She held the knife higher, her chin rising in stubborn determination. “I thought I made myself clear. Get out. Now.”
Trent took another step back, hoping the woman would realize he didn’t want to hurt her. He couldn’t blame her for doubting that. “Your mom has been searching for you.”
The dark concealed her face, but he sensed her shoulders slumping. “Like I said, my mom is dead.”
“You and I both know you’re lying, Theresa.” He watched her face as he used her name. He only wished there was more light so he could see. Any of the small hints she might offer to prove he was telling the truth were erased by the darkness.
“That’s not my name.” Her voice shook even harder. “I’m Tessa Jones.”
“Your name is Theresa Davidson.” She was thinner now. Her hair was long and light brown when it used to be shoulder length, curly and blond. But he’d been searching for six months, and he felt certain this was the woman he was looking for. “I’m Trent McCabe, by the way.”
“I’m going to call the police.” Her words didn’t sound remotely convincing.
“Go right ahead. I’ll wait here while you do it.” Their conversation felt a bit like a game. He’d made his move, she’d made hers and they continued to go back and forth. Trent knew good and well that she wouldn’t call the police. She had too much at stake. People who wanted to disappear did not call the police.
“Why are you doing this?” Her voice cracked with desperation. “I’m giving you the chance to leave. Please. Just go.”
“You have a lot of people who are concerned about you.” Seeing the worry in her loved ones’ eyes had been enough to compel him to stick with this case long after the time and funds had run out. He’d seen something in her family that he’d seen in himself all those years ago: pain and hurt. If possible, he wanted to spare them any more heartache.
“You have the wrong person.” She said each word slowly, forcefully. It was almost as if she was trying to convince herself of the truth.
But Trent heard the emotion there. The doubt. The fear. The moment of hesitation. There was no question this was the right woman.
But she wasn’t going to give this whole act up now. He didn’t know what had driven her to come here, to hide for all these months. But it must be a strong reason.
Whatever it was, she wasn’t budging. He had to think of a different approach because this one certainly wasn’t working. She wasn’t in the right emotional state to change her mind.
“Okay, okay. Look, I’m sorry to have scared you.” He took a step backward. “I’ll leave.”
He kept backing up until he reached the front door. A moment of hesitation hit him, and he started to try to persuade her again, but thought better of it. The woman was spooked. The fear that he’d seen in those big blue eyes of hers would make sure that any pleas for logic would go unheard.
He couldn’t actually see the blue, but he remembered it from the photos of Theresa. Her eyes had been one of her most striking features. He recalled the earnest, sincere look—it was one that couldn’t be faked.
He’d guess that this woman hadn’t lost that sincerity, either. The warmth in her eyes was something that was a part of her. The ability to show her character with one look, expressing deep emotions, communicating without a word.
Kind of like Laurel. His heart ached at the memory.
He gripped the doorknob, took one last look at the shadowy woman who still stood on guard and stepped outside.
Just as he did, a bullet pierced the air.
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