Page 137 of Running to You

But…Levi. The boy had changed everything. It wasn’t fair of Sam to judge her for that, not when he’d hopped into bed with the first willing partner after Eliza had left him. Even so, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get over it. How could he? How could he love her son? If he married her, he’d have to raise the kid. Keller’s kid.

Assuming they were able to put Keller behind bars. If not… What? Share custody with a crazy megalomaniac? Would she expect that of him?

Could he do it?

Thanks to Michael’s friend, they’d put Keller’s location somewhere in Maine northwest of Augusta. That part of the state wasn’t exactly densely populated, which helped because it narrowed down the places Keller and his hostages could be. But the cell towers were far apart up there, meaning they had a much larger area to search.

Back in Denver, they’d debated which airport they should fly into. Not Manchester, of course. That was where Keller had told Eliza to go. Boston was the next most logical choice, which was why they’d discarded it. Providence could’ve worked, but if Keller and his people could figure out which flight she was on, then it was theoretically possible that they could get to Providence from Maine while she was in the air, especially if they were already guessing she’d land in Boston or Manchester. The last thing Sam wanted was to fight those guys off again. He had to be perfect every time. The goons only had to get it right once, and Eliza would be gone.

So, an hour before the nonstop to Burlington, Vermont, took off, Sam had purchased three first-class tickets. He couldn’t tolerate another four-hour flight shoved against the window.

They got two seats together and one two rows back. Sam took that one, happy to be alone.

The flight landed just before midnight. They made it from the terminal to the rental car without incident. Sam drove, leaving the small city behind, while Michael tapped on his laptop in the passenger seat. In the back, Eliza stared out the window, not that she could see anything in the darkness except the blanket of stars overhead.

She hadn’t spoken since they’d left Burlington.

They traveled over the river and through the woods—and coming ’round all sorts of mountains—for two hours. They were only halfway to Augusta, but they all needed to sleep.

“Is it a suite? Adjoining rooms?” Sam’s voice sounded loud in the silence, only competing with the gentle rumble of tires on the highway.

“Couldn’t find either.” Michael had plugged his phone into the car, and the map showed that they were only twenty minutes from the hotel in Franconia, New Hampshire.

At least they had Michael’s phone. He hadn’t wanted Keller tracking Sam’s phone the way Michael’s friend had tracked Keller’s, so he’d had Sam turn it off before they boarded the flight—right after he’d turned off the locator service and GPS and put it in airplane mode. Seemed like overkill, but Michael obviously knew a lot more about this stuff than he did. If not for the fact that it was the only way Keller could reach Eliza, Sam would’ve tossed it in the trash in Denver.

A few minutes later, he parked in the hotel parking lot and gazed at the place—two stories, white siding. “It’s not exactly the Marriott.”

“When did you turn into such a snob?” But Michael was smiling when he got out and opened Eliza’s door.

The place was nice on the inside in a rustic-mountain-cabin sort of way. Lots of dark, warm wood. In the sunken living area just off the lobby, two deep, cushy sofas faced a huge stone fireplace, embers glowing within. A couple of workstations with computers filled the space beyond that, and then floor-to-ceiling windows that probably offered a great view in the daylight. Not so much at nearly three a.m.

Sam handed over his credit card and got the room keys.

“Second floor, right across the hall from each other.” The white-haired woman spoke the words around a yawn. “Breakfast served seven to nine.”

“Thanks for waiting up for us.” Eliza flashed her a smile, then trudged up the wide staircase.

Behind her, Sam gave Michael their room key, then opened Eliza’s door before handing hers over. He peeked inside—seemed fine—but stayed in the hall. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“I need my clothes and—”

“Right.” He turned for his room just as the door opened.

Michael tossed a plastic shopping bag to her. “I think that’s everything.”

She smiled at him. “Thanks.”

“See you in the morning.” She didn’t wait for an answer, just went inside and closed the door.

Would things ever be normal between them again? Could they get past this? He had no idea, especially if it meant raising the son of a lunatic.

More likely, when this was over, she’d realize Sam wasn’t the man she’d thought. When she did, she’d leave him again.

And he’d resume his life, go back to putting together deals and amassing his fortune.

Lonely and pathetic? Maybe. But money was always the right size, always the right color. And it never rejected him.

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