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“That’s a bear to drive through, no pun intended, but tourists are everywhere, and then this time of night, there’s always buffalo, elk, or moose walking on the road.” She stood, grabbed her gear, and tugged on a green-and-brown-camouflage cap. “’Course that happens on most all these mountain roads. Here’s a heads-up for ya. Only the north entrance is open this late, which is at least a hundred miles out of your way. If I were you, I’d stay here tonight and get a fresh start in the morning.” She gathered her gear.
“Thanks.” Dania had no intention of going to the park, but if someone were to ask this woman if she’d talked with her, the woman would have a good cover story.
With the shower area to herself, Dania got busy cutting her hair. The first snip was the worst. She held the clump in her hands and heard Matthew saying, “Promise me you’ll never cut your hair short.” She yearned to see him and feel his touch.
“I’m sorry, Matthew,” she muttered. But he’d be on board with what she was doing because there was no other way. She was fighting for their son and her freedom.
She quickly cut the rest, trying to make the length even and just below her jaw line. Without dwelling on the haircut, she ripped open the dye package and went to work. Once it was on her hair, she had to let it process for a half hour.
She relived her day and ended with Brett cuffed to the tree. She should have called the marshals’ office before coming in here so they could find him, but she wanted to put more distance between herself and them first. Brett had been pretty upset with her for leaving him like that. He’d said he wanted to help, but he wanted to put her back in a cell first.
She had already been down that road. Leonard Goldman had promised while she was stuck in prison that he would appeal her case, but roadblocks kept cropping up. She’d waited three long years. Nothing had changed. But now she was free, and she wasn’t going to let time slip away, and she wasn’t going to rely on someone else to help her. She had to do this on her own.
She glanced at the clock on the wall over the sink. Fifteen more minutes. If only she had a newspaper to read. She wanted to study the picture of her son, and she would have pulled it out of her bra and gazed at the snapshot, but she worried that she might get dye on the image. It was probably best to leave it over her heart.
When Jacob was born, she’d held him for only a few minutes. His soft spot beneath his dark hair had covered half the top of his head. The nurse had assured her he’d be all right. Dania had marveled at his tiny hands and fingers. He’d seemed too good to be true, like he’d vanish if she blinked. He’d stared up at her as if trying to figure out what had happened to him and who she was. Before the nurse had taken him from her, Dania had wrapped him in a blue baby blanket and given her little darling a kiss on his forehead.
The nurse had bundled him to her and taken him away. Dania’s request that they name him Jacob got twisted, but her son would always be Jacob to her. That was what Matthew had wanted if he’d ever had a son.
In the newspaper, Walter had been smiling at Jacob. Her toddler had no idea how cold and cruel his grandpa had been toward his mommy and daddy. It galled her that the only life Jacob knew was with that man. And though Walter had treated her and Matthew badly, she had to believe he was taking good care of his grandson.
She checked the clock. Time was up. She quickly stripped and put her things in a locker, making sure to tuck the newspaper picture beneath her clothes, along with the Glock, before getting into the shower. There was no lock for the compartment, so she scrubbed as fast as she could, spending much of the time rinsing her hair to make certain she got all the dye out.
She barely looked at herself in the mirror while she toweled off and got dressed. As she tried to slip the weapon into her new pants pocket, it didn’t fit. Deciding to wear the dirty overalls again, she slipped them on, then pulled the new sweatshirt over top. She quickly slid the weapon into the roomy utility pocket and tucked the newspaper picture back in her bra. As she bundled the other clothes together that she didn’t wear, she glanced in the mirror.
Her hair was a reddish mahogany, and though she scrunched it to try to coax some curls into it, she finally gave up and just looped it behind both of her ears. The day she’d learned she was pregnant, she’d stared into the bathroom mirror at the hospital in much the same way she was doing it now. But that happy person was forever gone, replaced with a haggard image she’d never identify as herself.
She hurried out, but as she made her way to the register to pay, she caught sight of a police officer talking with Aloma. He was showing her his cell. It had to be a picture of her. Aloma gazed at it, then glanced up, straight at Dania. Her face pinched with disappointment, quickly followed by betrayal. She shook her bleached-blonde head and pointed at Dania.
Of course she would. The woman thought she and Dania had a connection, and now she knew they hadn’t. Dania wasn’t a battered woman on the run from an abusive boyfriend; no, she was an escaped criminal convicted of murder.
Rushing to the rear exit by the showers, Dania stuffed her bundle of clothes and scissors into the garbage can and fled out the door.
Chapter Eleven
Freezing and fighting a deepache in his arms and legs, Brett eased himself onto the ground and straddled the aspen’s trunk. Where had Dania gone? Did she call the office? How were his coworkers doing? What was going on with Olivia?
“Oh crud!” He’d left his cell phone in his SUV. Gabe had to be trying to get in touch with him. Plus, Coop and Char and BB. They’d all wonder what the heck had happened to him. And here he sat cuffed to a stupid tree, stuck in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night.
He shivered and cursed himself for not taking a stronger stance with Dania. That he had let her do this to him was a huge sign that he’d fallen off his game. Or was it? He would never live this down, but in a way, he didn’t care.
He owed Matt.
And he owed Dania.
This stunt should make them even... but he knew it really wouldn’t. The only way he could ever get square with them would be to find the man who had killed Matt. Just as soon as he got these handcuffs off.
Jasper sat behind him, leaning against his back. The dog’s body was warm. At least Brett had his canine friend. He’d hate to think what would happen if a hungry cougar or bear should find them. Jasper would defend him to the bitter end. He craned his head and looked at his golden retriever. “This is a fine predicament we’ve gotten ourselves into.”
Jasper glanced at him.
“At least we know Dania’s all right.”
Jasper got up and licked Brett’s cheek.
“Okay, okay.” He pulled away. “That’s enough.”
Jasper quit licking him, returned to his post, and continued to watch over his master.
