Part 59 (2/2)

She gathered up their clothes; there weren't many. Then her tools. Harry looked at her with wide-eyed surprise as she packed what books they had. Marty helped carry them out to her car.

”I don't want to go. I want Sher'f Doug,” Harry said, his mouth drooping.

”Just for a while,” she said, knowing it would probably be forever. She felt sick to her stomach. Worse. ”I thought we would go out and explore the desert.”

”Is Caesar going with us?”

”Of course he is.”

His face was dubious. She remembered the last time she had rushed him out of his home. She closed her eyes for a moment. It wasn't fair. It wasn't.

Within ten minutes, they were ready.

Holly didn't want to leave the little house she'd decorated and come to love and think of as a safe haven.

She bit back tears, took Harry's hand and called Caesar, who knew something was wrong. He hung back, his tail tucked between his legs. He didn't want to leave, either.

Then she tugged Harry outside and put him in the car seat. She picked up Caesar and plopped him inside. Marty had already started her little Bug.

As they pulled away, Holly didn't look back. She hadn't looked back at her house in New Orleans, either. But that had been because of fear. She'd hated the house.

It was totally different when she was leaving a place, and people she loved.

The funky little store was closed.

Disappointment coursed through Meredith. She'd felt during these past few hours that she was reaching the end of her search. Antic.i.p.ation had built inside her. She would finally meet her sister.

Gage and Dom had napped on the plane. It had been late reaching Phoenix and they had just barely made the connection to Tucson, where they rented a car. She'd had no sleep. Questions kept running through her mind during the drive to Birmingham, the two flights and the drive from Tucson to Bisbee.

Only adrenaline kept her going.

But it was three o'clock Arizona time and they'd expected to find the shop open. Finding it closed was a huge downer.

They went to the businesses next door, one an art gallery, the other a small grill advertising tacos. The owners of both expressed surprise that the shop was closed.

”She'll be back soon,” one said.

Meredith took out a photo of Holly that they'd printed from a newspaper article. ”Do you recognize this person? She's my sister. Holly. We had an argument years ago, but now I realize how important family is, and I'm trying to find her.” She couldn't explain the true story, or they would be here all day.

Both owners--one a man and the other a woman-- glanced at the photo, then shrugged. ”Can't recall that I have,” said one.

”Doesn't look familiar,” said the other. ”Never heard the name.”

”She's a sculptor,” Meredith tried again. ”In metal. I think she does work for Special Things.”

”Wouldn't know anything about that,” said the man who owned the taco business.

”Still doesn't look familiar,” said the woman in the art gallery.

The three left the store and stood on the street.

”I would have sworn they recognized the photo,” Dom said.

”Then she has friends.”

”Protective ones.”

”Maybe Mary Sartain called and warned them,” Meredith said. ”Just in case something was wrong.”

”And the whole town is in on it?” Gage frowned.

”It couldn't be,” Meredith said. ”There wasn't enough time.”

”Let's start at real estate companies,” Gage said.

Holly followed Marty. Fifteen miles out of town, Marty turned down a dirt road that very nearly didn't exist. They b.u.mped over ruts and across a dry stream bed and came to a stop at a cabin ab.u.t.ting a bare hill. One lone cottonwood struggled for existence in front.

Holly got out of the car, unstrapped Harry from the car seat and met Marty.

Marty unlocked the heavy door and opened it.

It was hot. Stuffy. But the furniture looked comfortable and Marry turned on lights, so it had electricity.

”A generator,” Marty explained as she handed Holly her cell phone. ”Keep this with you.”

Holly's heart felt tight. Constricted. She had just gotten over fear. And now it had come tumbling back into her life, taking it over again. She didn't want to hide for the rest of her life. She didn't want it for Harry. She didn't want it for herself.

But the fear. G.o.d, it was overwhelming.

”I'm going to tell Doug about this place,” Marty said.

”No.”

”You don't have a choice any longer,” Marty said. ”I know him. He has been my friend for years.”

”But his duty--”

”There's something more important to him than that,” Marty said. ”Integrity that supercedes what others might call duty. He knows about me. He knows that I partic.i.p.ated in something unlawful long ago. He's never told anyone.” Her mouth slanted at Holly's start of surprise. ”Trust me,” Marty said. ”Trust him.”

Holly hadn't trusted anyone in a very long time. But Doug had protected Marty's secret.

She knew she had nothing to lose.

She nodded.

Doug heard about the queries about a woman and a boy immediately. Mr. Santos from the taco shop called first. Then Mrs. Carson from the art gallery.

<script>