Before he could sit, Killian appeared at his elbow, then his arms folded casually across his chest.
“Must be worse where they live,” Rawley said.
Killian nodded. “Dave called, he’s on his way. He said he had to shovel himself out first.”
Rawley settled into his chair. “I’m betting Mr. Barton will be busy clearing driveways again. He loves days like this.”
“Last year he did ours,” Killian said, perching on the corner of the desk. “Any progress on the case?”
Rawley opened a file and pulled out a series of photographs showing tire ruts in snow and told Killian about what happened at Skylar’s place. “They’ve been bold lately. I hope he can make it here today, but with these roads… we’ll see.”
“Think they’re still holed up in that motel?” Killian asked.
“If they are, he can reach the courthouse.” Rawley frowned at the photos, tracing the jagged edges of the tracks.
Killian stood, tugged on his coat, hat, and gloves. “Keep me posted. I’m heading to Spring City on another case.”
“Stay safe.”
Rawley turned back to the photos. By the light of the desk lamp, the ruts’ loops and swirls didn’t match his photos. He sat up straighter, brow furrowed.
“What the hell?” he muttered, leaning closer to the images.
His eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. They didn’t match.
Chapter Sixteen
Skylar pressed trembling fingers to her face as hot tears carved trails down her cheeks. She folded a pale blue blouse with care, laid it inside the open suitcase, then slammed the lid shut. The snap of the latches echoed through the silent room before she clicked the lock into place.
Sitting on the edge of the unmade bed, she bowed her head and let her sorrow spill freely. How she hated leaving him, but fear clawed at her heart like talons. She prayed fiercely that Rawley would stay safe; those men pursuing them were merciless, and nothing short of a miracle could halt them.
When at last she got herself together, she lifted the suitcase and carried it into the living room, setting it beside the front door as dusk draped long shadows across the floorboards. It would have to do; first light would find her on the road again. She’d driven through worse snowstorms than this, but it was the thought of abandoning Rawley that set her pulse racing.
“Please let me get back to him soon,” she whispered, her voice cracking.
Turning toward the bedroom, she yanked open the closet door and rummaged until she found Cosmo’s travel crate. There was no question she’d leave him.
A soft nudge against her shin made her jerk, then she looked down to see Calvin, his eyes full of concern. She bent and rubbed his muzzle. “Hey, boy, you miss your master, don’t you?”
Hobbs sprang across the room, tail wagging.
“Do you have to go outside?” Skylar laughed, as they ran to the front door. “This way, babies,” she said then walked to the back door and eased it open. A blast of frigid air caught them, swirling snowflakes into the warm light of the kitchen. She ushered them into the fenced backyard, watching them leap andvanish into the drifts, emerging with snow-dusted muzzles and joyous yips.
“Do your business, please,” she called as they bounded here and there, their pawprints crisscrossing the sparkling yard.
Inside, Skylar fetched a few thick, worn towels from the laundry room. She peered through the window and saw Calvin and Hobbs scratching at the door. Unlatching it, she let them back in. They charged through like furry missiles and shook their bodies making snow fly everywhere. “Hey!” They flopped at her feet.
“You clever devils,” she murmured, gathering a towel in each hand. She rubbed them vigorously, fluffing their damp fur until they rolled onto their backs and paws in the air. “Spoiled, I see.”
She dragged the sodden towels to the washer, tossed them in and added detergent, then pressed the start button. Soon they would be warm and dry, for now anyway.
Once the dogs were dry enough, they ran to the living room and chased Cosmo around the house. Skylar sat on the sofa, pulled the blanket off the back and snuggled under it. She’d watch a movie or two and wait for Rawley to get here this evening.
****
Rawley heard the door open again and saw the man he’d talked to in the parking lot slink in, shoulders hunched against the biting winter wind. His pale face was pinched with anxiety, eyes darting like a cornered animal, so Rawley rose from his chair and strode toward him.
“I appreciate you coming in, especially in this snow.” Rawley fixed him with a steely gaze that made the young man fidget with his coat sleeve.
