Caught Off Guard Read online

  I plopped onto my backside and grabbed the pot, tugging at the lid to take it off. It didn’t move. I shook the whole thing, but nothing rattled inside. I ran my hand over the lid and its edge, looking for a latch of some sort. Nothing.

  “Twist the handle.” Toby squatted beside me.

  I did, and it came away revealing a keyhole.

  Toby sighed. “And who knows where that key is?”

  I leaned back to pull the mailbox key from my front pocket. Two were hanging from the ring, but I hadn’t given much thought to the fact that they weren’t a set—until now.

  I inserted the key, and the lid popped up. I pushed it aside, and the three of us peered inside to see a keypad between two round knobs, like drawer pulls.

  I grabbed each in one hand and tugged. Nothing.

  “You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?” Precious asked.

  I shrugged. “It’s always worth a try.” I looked up at my friends. “Seven twenty was the number in one of the photos, right?”

  Precious, who was holding the photos, checked and nodded. I typed it into the keypad, and… nothing. I typed in the other number. Nothing again. I typed in all the house numbers starting with the seven twenty, making the combination six digits. Nothing. I reversed the order, starting with one hundred thirty-nine then seven hundred twenty. I was awarded a green light and a clicking sound, like something had released. I grabbed the knobs and tugged, and the entire faceplate, keypad and all, lifted right out of the pot. I set it aside and realized the faceplate acted like a safe door. The faceplate was smaller in diameter than the pot and, therefore, when engaged, would deploy small bolts into the sides of the pot to lock it in place.

  Inside the pot, under the faceplate, were a CD, a thumb drive, and a note.

  I showed the contents to Toby and Precious. Each of them gave me a questioning and worried look.

  The note read:

  Congratulations, Austin. Now you have all of what I have. You win.

  Or do you?

  I said, “I’ll call Leo. Precious, you call Lockett.”

  Precious moved away to make the call, but I stayed still, looking into the pot.

  “Sam?” Toby asked.

  Precious turned back toward us.

  As I looked up at my friends, a shiver of fear ran down my spine. We were in possession of proof, evidence Austin Strong would kill for—literally. I sucked in a deep breath and blew it out slowly, trying to steady my nerves.

  Then I said, “Game on, friends. Strong is coming for this.”

  32

  Monday

  Precious rubbed her hands up and down her arms. “You’re freaking me out.”

  Toby stood. “Me too.”

  I reached into the pot and pulled out the thumb drive. “Your computer doesn’t have a CD drive, right?”

  He shook his head. “Most don’t these days.”

  I waved the thumb drive at him. “You don’t have to watch—not knowing what’s on this could be beneficial—but I need to watch it ASAP. I need to know if what’s on this is the real deal or just another way to stall Strong.”

  “What if it’s the real stuff?” Toby asked.

  “Worst-case scenario is he makes sure we don’t live to tell anyone what we know.”

  Precious asked, “And best case?”

  I shrugged, unsure. I’d never been in that situation. “We’ll probably always be looking over our shoulders. Just because he’d be in prison wouldn’t mean he couldn’t harm us.”

  That was where Strong’s endless dollars came into play, giving him an advantage over us, the likes of which I would never know.

  Toby stroked his chest again until he realized what he was doing. He slapped himself on the chest, sighed, and dug into his shirt to pull out his vape pen then put it to his lips. “Stupid empty vial,” he mumbled. Then with shaky hands, he put the drive on the counter then rummaged through his messenger bag. Seconds later, he pulled out a vial and waved it in our direction. “I’m going to vape this, and neither of you can stop me.”

  I pulled myself up from the floor with one hand grabbing the counter and one hand holding the pot. “Toby, you know they still haven’t figured out what’s causing that vaping lung disease.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t care. I’m going to have this…” He looked at the label and laughed bitterly. “Oh, that’s perf. This flavor is called Bad Apple. Ominous, right? Now I’m freaking freaked out.”

  I studied the CD, debating what to do with it. Leave it or take it? Still unsure, I tossed it back in the pot.

  “Okay!” Precious clasped her hands together with a resounding clap. “We have to get control. Toby, there’s no reason to freak out.” She bent forward while performing deep, calming yoga breaths. “No one freak out. I think I’m freaking out.”

  I was unnerved too. And that bad gut feeling I’d had a few weeks before was back. Knowing I could be holding evidence of someone’s crimes was scary and humbling and, frankly, was giving me a power surge. Right then, all the cards were in my hand, but my foe would stop at nothing to change those dynamics. I opened the cabinet with the monitors and watched each of the screens of the outdoors, looking for signs that Strong was upon us. Everything outside looked quiet.

  I had a better understanding of McVay’s paranoia.

  Toby got his pen loaded and blew out an apple-scented smoke plume.

  “Ah,” he said. “Starts out tart and ends up sweet.” He closed his eyes and inhaled again.

  I went to Toby and reached for his messenger bag. “I’m going to take out your laptop,” I told him.

  He slapped my hand away. “I got it.” He pulled out the laptop and flipped it open. I handed him the thumb drive.

  I glanced back at Precious, who was still bent over.

  I glanced back at the screens. No change—yet the overwhelming sensation of claustrophobia ran over me from head to toe. The air felt thick, and the walls seemed like they were moving inward.

  I glanced back at the screens. “I think we need to get out of here. Get in the SUV and get on the road. The sooner we get this to Lockett and Leo, the better off we are.” Beads of sweat broke out on my forehead. “In here, we’re sitting ducks.”

  Precious nodded in agreement.

  Toby slammed his laptop closed and said, “I don’t need further convincing.”

  We moved with lightning speed. I didn’t bother to replace the key under the mat, instead sticking it in my front pocket. I hung the mailbox key back up by the monitors then shut them off. After that, I replaced the lid on the pot. My hope was that both the drive and the CD had the same information. And if, by chance, Strong found the clues and came there, something would be waiting for him. Maybe having the CD would make him think he’d won.

  We rushed to the car. Inside, I told Toby to send Lockett and Leo a message that we would soon be uploading potential evidence against Strong to my cloud. Lockett would be able to access it from my laptop.

  I peeled out of the drive and onto the road, kicking up a shower of rocks and dirt. “Don’t skip the seat,belts, gang. It’s pedal to the metal.”

  Clicking his seat belt in place, Toby said, “There are seven files. Three are videos. Four are documents. One of the videos is labeled Watch Me First.”

  I scanned the road ahead and behind on a steady rotation as if my head was on a swivel, waiting for something to come at us from any angle. “Play it,” I said while catching sight of that helicopter in the distance far behind us. A forestry helicopter wasn’t unusual in those parts, and if needed, we could try to flag it down to help us. But I didn’t want to think about what would have to happen to make me resort to that unlikely assistance. But I was a girl who liked having options, and that helicopter represented an option.

  From behind me, where Toby was sitting, came McVay’s voice.

  “My name is Keith McVay, and if you’re watching this video and I’ve died under circumstances other than old age or cancer, then that means Austin
Strong killed me. Maybe not by his own hand, but he definitely had something to do with it. Let me explain. Included with this video are several documents and two MP4 files that will substantiate my claim.”

  My phone rang. “It’s Leo.”

  Toby paused the video while I answered, putting my phone on speaker.

  “You’re on speaker, Leo. Did you get my text?”

  “Yes, Sam. Where are you?”

  I glanced around, seeing nothing but trees and narrow roads. The GPS on the display in Precious’s SUV gave more information. “We’re about half a mile from Spirit Lake Highway. That would put us two hours from home.”

  Leo asked, “But where are you right now? If I had to come find you…”

  I explained how we were leaving the cabin. Saint Helens was on our left, to the east, and the town of Toutle was to our right, the west.

  Leo said, “No one can find Strong. Either he’s truly not in his office, or he’s playing a game of hide-and-seek with us. I’m driving your way. You’ll reach Toutle before me. When you get there, call me, and give me an update of your location.”

  Toutle was the town between us and the interstate home.

  “Okay, Leo,” I said.

  A flicker of something dark to my right caught my eye.

  Precious screamed, “Sam, watch out!”

  A second later, we were T-boned by a large dark truck, its front end colliding with our middle pillar.

  The impact forced my phone to fly across the car toward Precious. My head whipped in the same direction, only to be shoved back into the driver’s-side window as the curtain airbags deployed. Glass shattered around me. The force of the steering-wheel bag felt like someone had slapped me directly in the face, stunning me. The seat belt cut across my body, squeezing breath from me as it held me in place, fighting against the momentum that wanted to send me out the window. The crunch of metal bending, glass cascading to the ground, and an engine revving with a loud whine while my teeth knocked together filled the space, bringing disorientation. No sooner had the airbags appeared then they deflated, and I swiped at them to get them out of the way.

  Precious’s SUV skidded sideways on the road, the tires squealing in protest. We met resistance when the SUV came off the road and was pushed into a line of trees, the edge of the forest.

  The truck that had hit us revved its engine higher, pushing more force into our SUV.

  I shook my head and tried to get my bearings. Metal creaked as it buckled, giving in to the force of the truck.

  Precious groaned.

  Toby suddenly appeared between the front seats.

  “Hey,” he said, shaking my shoulder then moving to push away the deflated airbag. “We have to get out of here.” He shifted toward Precious. “Precious. Talk to me.”

  My senses came back to me in a rush of fear powered by adrenaline, a sensation so strong that it left me breathless for a second before flooding me with a million commands. I released my seat belt and faced my friends.

  Where the truck was pushing against our vehicle, the SUV was buckling inward toward us, inch by inch. The truck was acting like a trash compactor.

  “Toby, your computer?”

  “Crazy, right? But it’s okay. So is the thumb drive.” Blood was trickling from his temple down the side of his face.

  He touched the spot tenderly. “I’m okay.” He pointed at me. “You got your own.”

  Like him, my left temple and forehead had taken the brunt of the impact against the window, and I’d been cut. Blood ran in a warm path down the side of my face, those two areas throbbing.

  “Precious,” I asked, “are you okay?”

  Her SUV creaked again and gave up a few more inches.

  She looked at me, dazed. Her nose had taken the brunt of her airbag and was bleeding. She was pale and her eyes wide, pupils dilated. “I think I might be sick.”

  I released her seat belt and brushed hair from her forehead, where it was sticking to several small cuts she’d received across her face. “Hang in there. Deep breath. Visualize getting out of here alive. Toby’s right—we need to get out of here, now. This guy is trying to crush us.” I scanned the car for an exit.

  Toby said, “We have to go out the window. The doors are pinned.”

  And going out the back cargo door would expose us to the madman in the truck.

  I shifted, pulling my legs up so that I was squatting on the seat. “There’s enough room, for now. But not much.” The trees we were being pushed into would eventually block us. I took off my coat and laid it through my broken window, hoping it would block any remaining shards of glass. The deflated curtain airbags were useless as I lifted myself onto the window ledge. My muscles screamed in protest, my chest and neck burning where the seat belt had held tight.

  I dropped to the ground and doubled over in pain, taking a moment to catch my breath, the sudden movement having made my head throb with blinding severity. The high revving of the truck’s engine stopped suddenly, pulling my attention there. The truck reversed a few feet then stopped while the driver shifted.

  “Hurry!” I held out my hands.

  Precious took them, with Toby coaxing her from behind. With his help, we got her out the window seconds before the truck T-boned the SUV a second time. The impact threw Toby against the door and onto the floor, his eyes closed.

  Toby!” I helped Precious to lean against a tree, where she lost her stomach as I went back for Toby.

  The truck backed up a second time.

  “Toby!” I rushed to the window to find him squatting on the driver’s seat but reaching across the console to the floorboard, toward the truck and where the next impact would be. “Get out now!”

  “I can’t find Precious’s purse.” He handed me his messenger bag and my backpack, which I’d forgotten all about, then practically vaulted out the window, falling to the ground, and landing on his butt.

  A moment later, the truck rammed the SUV, the force of which echoed the creaking and bending of steel throughout the forest.

  I helped Toby up while simultaneously pulling him toward Precious. The truck’s revving had ceased, and at any moment, the driver would be out of the vehicle and after us.

  I grabbed Precious by the arm as Toby and I ran beside her and tugged her along while we sprinted toward the protection of the trees.

  Unlike our hide-and-seek game at the Olympics a few weeks before, we had no trail to follow. We had to maneuver over thick brush, fallen branches, and large ferns that covered the land. All of that was creating an easy trail for whoever was in the truck.

  I pushed them deep into the forest before pulling them behind a tree and signaling with my hand for us to stop.

  I whispered, “We need to split up.”

  Peeking back in the direction we’d come from, I could see no one. We were likely being stalked like prey, the hunter waiting for the right moment to strike.

  I held out a hand to Toby. “Please tell me you have the thumb drive.”

  He nodded and dug through his messenger bag before finding the drive and putting it on my palm. “It never dislodged from my laptop.”

  Thank the heavens for small miracles. I handed the thumb drive to Precious. “Tuck this somewhere.”

  She put it in her bra, near her armpit.

  “Get somewhere safe, and try to get that stuff on the cloud.” I pointed at where she’d hid the thumb drive. “We need to separate. You two fan out but go in the same direction. You’re going to need to reconnect to get the drive online. But Toby, if you get caught, I don’t want you to have it on you. I don’t want them to find anything on any of us. There are three of us and, I’m hoping, one of them. Let’s fan out. Each of us should head toward the main road but stay out of sight. We can’t trust any cars unless we know who’s behind the wheel. Leo is on his way.”

  Toby shook his head. “I think we need to find a cabin to hide in.”

  Precious crouched low and hugged her knees. “I don’t want to be out here alone.�
�

  A twig snapped behind us, sounding closer than expected. The hunter was upon us.

  33

  Monday

  Toby whimpered. Precious’s eyes went large and round. I patted my back pocket, searching for my stun gun. I looked at Toby and mouthed the words “stun gun.”

  He pulled it from his front pocket and handed it over. I pointed at each of them and then in the direction I thought Spirit Lake Highway was.

  “Go,” I mouthed. “Run.”

  Toby looked at me with uncertainty. Precious shook her head. We were banged up, scared, and panicking. I was rattled from being hit by the truck. But we didn’t have the luxury of processing our shock normally. We were out of time.

  The whop-whop of that helicopter drew near, and hope sparked. I would need to get into a clearing to get their attention. I peered between the trees, trying to catch sight of the helicopter to gauge its direction. A second later, it flew directly overhead in the direction of the crash. I couldn’t make out who the chopper belonged to. Forestry? Wildlife? Then it made a banking turn, and the text on the side of the helicopter was clear: Strong Protection and Software.

  My heart dropped as hope was snuffed out. No rescue was coming. The only positive aspect of that helicopter was the cacophony of noise from the blades. Maybe they would draw the attention of locals or police as well as giving cover for any noise we might make. I grabbed my friends, signaling we should move deeper into the woods, using the sound to cloak our movement.

  They followed me as we crept along, picking our way slowly to limit any chance of drawing attention, though I was desperate to break into a full-on run. We stopped every five minutes to listen. The helicopter continued to circle the area of the accident. I waited until we were close to Spirit Lake Road but still under the cover of the trees before I pitched my idea again.

  “We need to separate. If we get caught together, then Strong has the evidence and all of us. One of us has to get away.”