“Do you have a death wish or something?” he asked. “Because they’re gonna go for the death penalty when they get hold of you.”
“They won’t get hold of me.” He must not have seen anything worrisome coming up from behind because he made the turn that led to their cabin and they rode in silence for the next twenty minutes.
Once they pulled into the drive, L.J. stared out at the growing darkness. He was thinking about the men Ink had shot and the stomach-churning process of burying them. He wondered about their families, whether or not they had children. This was all so senseless. His life was turning into a nightmare. He didn’t feel big or bad, like he thought he would. He just felt like shit. Worse than shit, because he knew how ashamed his grandfather would be.
“What are we going to do?” he asked. “We can’t go back into town. Not with all those flyers everywhere.”
“We’ll wait until it’s too dark to see us clearly.”
He had an answer for everything. They hadn’t shaved since they left the California Men’s Colony, but his beard growth hadn’t stopped Trudie from recognizing him. “And what if it doesn’t work? In another day or two, every one in town will have seen that flyer.”
“That’s why we’ve got to go back tonight. But we’ll wait another hour or so, let things die down.”
Bile rose in L.J.’s throat. “Are you joking? We can’t go back there.”
“We have no choice. And we need to do it soon, or you’re right—it’s only gonna get harder.”
It was already hard enough. “That’s asking for trouble. We’re screwed, you know that.”
Ink shut off the engine. “No, we’re not.”
L.J. didn’t move. He’d pissed himself rushing out of that damn grocery store, and there was no way he wanted Ink to see the wet spot on his jeans. He’d never live it down.
Fortunately, it was getting darker by the minute. In a little while it would be too dark to see that small detail, especially way the hell out here. “How can you be so sure?”
Ink met his gaze. “I remembered her name.”
L.J. didn’t immediately follow. “What are you talking about?”
“Laurel’s daughter. I remember her name!”
This wasn’t exciting news. L.J. had been a fool to come to Montana with Ink, but…now that he was here, he had to get through it the best he could until he found a way out. He’d been so set on becoming a Crew member. Now he couldn’t imagine why. If they were anything like Ink, then Ink was right. He wasn’t cut out for it. “How?”
“Don’t know. When you came out screaming, it just popped into my head. Can you believe it?”
Frankly he couldn’t. What if Ink only thought he knew the name? It didn’t make sense that he couldn’t remember it for so long and then suddenly there it was. Was Ink bullshitting him? “You’re dreaming.”
“Dreaming?” Ink echoed. “You mean lying, don’t you? But I’m not. And even if I was, it’s not your place to question me.”
Question him? What was he, L.J.’s father? L.J. had never had a father, and he didn’t want one now, especially a freaking psychopath only fifteen years older than he was. “We almost got caught back there!”
“I’m telling you we’re going to be able to find her now. Then we’ll get the hell out of here.”
Finding her wouldn’t save the day. Too much shit had already gone down. L.J. was pretty sure he was headed for death row no matter what. “But she might’ve changed her daughter’s name, too. Or given her up for adoption. Or maybe she…she died of a childhood disease. This solves nothing. Let’s leave Montana. Get out. Revenge isn’t worth spending the rest of our lives in prison. Or worse.”
“You gotta be kidding me.”
L.J. had the impression that Ink would kill him right here, right now, if he did or said anything more to defy him. “All I’m saying is…we’re taking a risk.” He hated himself for backing off, but Ink was too unpredictable, too volatile.
“That’s what I thought.” Ink opened his door. “Anyway, you’ll see. She wouldn’t give this kid up. And she didn’t change the kid’s name—that would confuse the little bitch. Laurel isn’t the kind of mother who’d want to cause her precious babies any pain.”
“How do you know?”
L.J. couldn’t believe he’d dared ask another question. He wanted to kick himself when Ink’s attention swung back to him and those cold eyes riveted onto his face, but Ink seemed to have snapped out of psycho mode.
“I’ve seen how hard she tries to protect them.”
With a sigh, L.J. thrust a hand through his hair. He was as trapped as he’d ever been in prison, maybe more so. In another hour, they’d be cruising through town, risking their futures again. “But is her daughter’s name different enough that people will know who we’re talking about?”
When Ink smiled, it was the coldest smile L.J. had ever seen. If he’d needed proof that Ink was crazy, there it was. Jack Nicholson in The Shining had nothing on him. “People will know who we’re talking about. How many little girls in this town are called Mia?”
Not many, as L.J. soon learned. When they returned to town, they found a woman who was just locking up Chrissy’s Nice Twice store. Afraid his usual spiel would only alert her to trouble, especially after what had happened at that grocery store, L.J. approached with a frown. “Darn, you’re closed?”
The woman pivoted to face him. “We closed several hours ago, actually. Why, is there something you need?”
“I was hoping to buy a gift for my niece, Mia. Maybe you know her?”
“Vivian Stewart’s daughter?”
He had no idea, but he figured it’d be smarter to play along. “Yes.”
She hitched her purse higher on her shoulder while juggling a box of files and an armful of clothing he guessed she was taking home to wash or mend. “Oh, I know the whole family. Mia goes to school with my daughter.”
“Can I help you with that?”
Smiling in relief, she allowed him to take the box. “What did you have in mind?”
“Maybe a pretty dress? You know, just a nice surprise since I’m visiting from out of town and haven’t seen her in a couple years.”
“Did you want a present for Jake, too?”