Page 24 of Fallen Creed

“This property’s been in Nora’s family for over a hundred years. Are you telling me your dog may have found human remains?”

“No,” Nora said, startling both of them. “That’s not what he’s saying.”

Creed and Spencer spun around. She was out of breath and almost at the gate. Behind her, Maggie jogged toward them. She shot him a look of apology.

“My scarf,” Nora gasped suddenly and pointed. “I gave Libby that scarf. She loves it. She never would have...” She hesitated, then said, “His dog found the grave.”

“Nora, what the hell are you talking about?” Spencer wanted to know. “What grave? You never told me anybody was buried out here.”

“The baby,” she said, her eyes glued to the swirling fabric.

“What baby?”

“Libby’s baby.”

—20—

It was getting too dark. Soon she wouldn’t be able to see even with the enhanced zoom and expanded focus on the binoculars that had cost her almost a week’s pay.

Libby swiped over the entire property before settling on the scene behind the barn. They had found the scarf. She had expected to find David Ruben, but the man standing next to Ted was tall, broad-shouldered, with a bristled jaw and a nice butt. He was in his late twenties, maybe thirty, but he was hot even by Libby’s standards.

One thing was certain, he wasn’t David Ruben. Not even close. Ruben was only a few inches taller than Libby. His pudgy face made him look boyish, but she knew he was like fifty-something. He bragged about having a receding hairline, a bulging waistline and a harem of young girls everywhere he went.

In a crowd, no one noticed him, an ordinary, middle-aged man. Not at all what you expected evil to look like.

When Libby saw the woman running after Nora, she held her breath, thinking Ruben had sent one of his minions. But then she zoomed in on the woman’s FBI ball cap. These must be people Ted knew. People he worked with.

Libby swung the binoculars to Nora’s face, and her heart skipped a beat. Nora looked tired and worried.

Should she send her a text? What would she say?

Sorry. Thanks for everything. Gotta go.

Nora thought she knew so much about her. How could she tell her she didn’t have a clue who she was? That she couldn’t imagine what she was capable of doing?

It was better this way. For both of them.

Libby had been preparing for this day ever since she left Virginia. Her employee discount at the hardware store allowed her to stock up on all the essentials. A cute guy in the camping section was the only one who noticed, telling her he liked her idea of fun. That small interaction with a guy set off a signal of fear. It still sent a wave of panic. Still so fresh, she caught herself searching the aisles that day, making sure Ruben wasn’t there and hadn’t overheard.

She wished she could have taken the car, but she didn’t own it yet, and it wouldn’t be right to dump it halfway across the country. Because she would need to dump it, sell it, trade it. Otherwise, having the car Nora and Ted let her use would be like leaving bread crumbs leading directly to where she was.

Deep down, she knew she’d never be able to put enough miles between her and Ruben. He always seemed to be in her head. Those thoughts needed to be pushed back and locked up. She could not and would not dwell on them. It was exactly the control he wanted.

Months ago, she tried to convince herself that maybe she could hide in the middle of nowhere. This place was different from anywhere else she had been, and she suspected it was different from any place Ruben would look for her. She also learned some tricks and skills of her own after watching a lot of YouTube videos and listening to Ted talking about tracking cybercriminals. If she could stay off the grid, she might keep herself invisible.

She had been so careful. How in the world had Ruben found her?

Libby pulled her phone out of her back pocket and hesitated, staring at it. Not being on-line, plugged in 24/7, was one of the hardest parts. She’d gotten sloppy in the last month. This place had a way of lulling her into a false sense of security.

If she sent Nora even a single text, Ted—and definitely Ruben—would know how to track her by using her phone. Seven months ago, Libby taught herself how to disconnect the battery. Ordinarily, the process was tedious, but she’d figured out a way to rig it, so she could reconnect quickly, check her text messages, then shutdown and disconnect in less than a minute. And she did it from a different location each time.

Before darkness swallowed up every last bit of light, she found a safe place. That was another thing she learned about the middle of nowhere. Night was darker. It was over six hours since she last checked. As soon as the phone booted up, the messages started flashing. Thankfully, she’d turned on the silent mode, not that there was anyone close by to hear. But how could she be sure? Even the constant hum of cicadas wouldn’t cover an electronic ping. It was so damned quiet out here.

A string of them were from Nora:

ARE YOU OK?

WHERE ARE YOU?