Page 7 of Run for Her Life
“Something about the gasket.”
“Blown head gasket, huh? Yeah, that’ll do it. Probably noticed white smoke coming out the exhaust or your engine temp spiking before it died.”
She frowned as they got on the I-5 South. “How the hell do you know that?”
“I fix up vintage cars in my spare time. 1969 Mustangs don’t exactly repair themselves.”
Zoe choked on the hot chocolate as the liquid snaked down the wrong pipe, unleashing a series of coughs that raked through her body.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” She patted her chest and settled down. The thought of Aiden in a garage fixing cars made her head hurt. “Sorry, you just don’t look like someone who has hobbies.”
“What do you think I do on weekends?”
“Volunteer at mental asylums?” she said playfully.
The corner of his lips twitched but he didn’t reply. Zoe rested her head against the cool window, watching the Seattle skyline being slowly swallowed by the low-hanging clouds. The rain was sparse now, but the air still smelled of wet mud and exhaust. Wheels barreled through puddles, sending arcs of water spraying on the sides. She stared into the streaks of green blurring past—Douglas firs and farmlands, which soon dissolved into gas stations and restaurants. Her mind wandered to the letter—the threat, thegame.
But every time she blinked, something else transpired in her mind. Viktor Axenov. And the key to the safety deposit box that he’d stolen. She checked her phone. She had been trying to get in touch with Keith—an old friend of her mother’s—who had given her the key and told her how Rachel had been afraid of someone powerful and was hiding something in that safety deposit box as leverage.
More than twenty years later, someone wanted thatleverage.
“Are you thinking about that note?” Aiden’s voice cut through her spiraling thoughts.
She jerked and blinked. “Yeah… I… I don’t know what to think.”
“I don’t know yet either. What connection do you have to Pineview Falls?”
Zoe’s mind got stuck again. She and Aiden traded a glance. The question hung between them. Why had the note been sent toZoe?
FIVE
As the car glided through Pineview Falls, Zoe shuddered involuntarily. The town sat low in the valley with thick forests pressing down on both sides. The trees reached up like skeletal fingers brushing the gray skies. Fog clung to roads that were cracked and had been patched up too many times. The buildings looked worn out, and the gas stations had neon lights that flickered too brightly. A stagnant vibe hung over Pineview Falls.
It looked like a town stuck in the past. A town where every day was exactly the same. The only thing about it that was alive was the wind. It roared through the streets, whipping dried leaves and litter into the air.
“Have you been here before?” she asked Aiden, scrunching her nose in distaste. Something clung to this town. Something beyond the rotten fence posts and rusty doors.
It had a secret. They all did.
“Nope.” He killed the engine. They’d reached a low, bricked building with a faded sign indicatingLewis County Sheriff’s Office—Pineview Falls Substation.“We are meeting Lisa Gray here. She knows about the letter to you, right?”
“Simon sent over a scanned copy.” She spotted a sturdy woman in uniform standing next to a patrol SUV, its tires cakedin dirt. The woman was thick around the middle and towering in height. Her dark, silky hair was tied in a loose ponytail; wisps flicked in her face that had dark, piercing eyes, an upturned nose, and a double chin. “There she is.”
As soon as Zoe opened the door, a gust of wind slammed it shut in her face. She recoiled and pushed the door open again despite the mounting resistance. It was the town’s way of telling her she wasn’t welcome. But she was from Chicago—she was used to arctic cold wind scouring her face and nipping at her skin.
“Sheriff Gray?” Zoe flashed her badge. “Special Agent Zoe Storm. This is Dr. Aiden Wesley, a profiler with the bureau.”
“Nice to meet you.” Lisa’s eyes slid over them and beyond to Aiden’s shiny BMW. Zoe knew the drill. They were thesuitswho had arrived in a small town where roots mattered more than ambition, where preservation mattered more than exploration. While the rest of the world took flight and evolved, a small town took pride in staying staunchly in the past. Like holding on to an old heirloom no matter how useless and faded it got with time.
It was everything Zoe despised because it reminded her of what she was doing. She was still stuck in the past. Still trying to pry it open. Still refusing to let go.
“What do we know about Annabelle?” Zoe asked.
“Thirty-three-year-old with no priors. I just ran her through the system. She’s a scientist. An educated woman, making good money. I made some initial inquiries today. She was last seen two days ago leaving work but never came home, according to the husband,” Lisa said. “Oh, this is Ethan. He’s the deputy here.”
A long-limbed man with a thick neck and a bushy mustache stepped forward and tipped his hat, extending his pudgy hand.
