They’d only made it a few feet when he heard somebody shout his name. He didn’t respond or even turn around, but his shoulders tensed and he broke his stride. That was confirmation enough for the media vultures. An army of reporters and their camera-wielding crews descended on him, forming a circle that was impossible to break.
Greg found himself bathed in a blinding glow of light. Microphones shoved into his face. Questions yelled at him from every direction.
“Are you the cop that solved those murders in the Bay Cities?”
“Where have you been hiding out?”
“Why did the sheriff’s department call you in to help with this raid?”
“Are you working undercover for the DEA?”
“Is it true that they were growing a mutant strain of marijuana up here?”
Greg kept his mouth shut tight and waited for the cavalry to arrive. Ten officers broke up the news crew blockade and whisked him away to a waiting car. Reporters shouted after him as they chased the car on foot. Greg kept his eyes forward, trying hard to catch his breath.
It was only a few minutes before the cruiser pulled up to the end of the road that led to Greg’s cabin. Greg pulled on the handle and swung the passenger door open as the officer spoke.
“You’re the hero cop, right? The one that brought who gang down in Virgil Heights.”
“All I did was shoot some kid.”
He slammed the door shut, turned, and walked off. The cruiser pulled away, taking all the light with it. Greg shuffled along the winding gravel road, letting his memory guide him through the dark. His El Camino came into view just before the darkened cabin did.
The back door was unlocked, just like it used to be when he was a kid. He stepped inside and started peeling his pants and shirt off as he walked. The strong odor of woodsmoke from the fireplace in the living room was no match for the stench of his clothes. Greg tried to make sense of everything that had happened as he made his way to the bathroom.
He pulled the chain on the overhead light and turned the faucet on in the sink. His body was suddenly sore all over, now that he wasn’t worried about escaping from Grizzly Flats. Images of Marco flashed in his mind as he splashed cold water on his face.
“What took you so long?”
Greg almost sprang backward through the bathroom door. He was still gasping for air when she sat up in the bathtub. The bear paw tattoo flexed and danced on her shoulder as she rubbed a washcloth across her neck.
“You mind getting my back?”
He took a step forward and knelt down. Kristen pulled his head against her naked chest and ran her fingers across his cropped hair. A whisper was the most he could manage.
“I couldn’t find him.”
“Magnus?”
“No, Marco. It looks like Magnus got away with a few of his men.”
“I’m sorry, sweetie.”
She stood up and grabbed a towel from the rack. Greg let his cheek rest on the edge of the bathtub, too exhausted to move.
“We need to get out of here right away.”
“Kristen, you have to turn yourself in.”
“No way! He kept me there against my will. He kept me high and he…he used me. You saw it with your own eyes. Besides, none of these cops even know that I exist.”
“For now, but what about down the road? They’re questioning everybody they caught. Any one of them could give up your name to make a deal.”
“Hardly any of them even know my real name.”
“You’ve got blood on your hands, Kristen. You said so yourself.”
She was trembling now. He wanted to comfort her, but couldn’t bring himself to stand. Everybody he got close to seemed to get killed.
“Listen to me, Greg. If Magnus is still alive, then he’s gonna come looking for me. For both of us. Probably tonight.”
“Are you insane? The sheriff’s department has officers searching for him all over these mountains.”
“That won’t matter to him. Turn me in if you want to, but not until we’re far away from here.”
There was a cup of instant coffee waiting for him when he emerged from the bedroom in clean clothes. She had a pair of his loose-fitting board shorts on and a tattered tour shirt. He thought she looked just like every surfer girl he’d ever known. They threw her pack beside his in the back of the El Camino and started down the winding mountain roads.
They got waved through several checkpoints on their way out of the Angeles National Forest. The first signs of civilization came into view less than two hours after they’d left. Greg was merging onto the freeway ramp when two motorcycles came speeding up behind them. Kristen dug her fingers into his thigh as he stepped on the accelerator.
“What’s the matter?”
“Magnus does business with some of the local bikers.”
The two motorcycles were gaining on them fast. Greg knew he couldn’t lose them. He reached across her legs and yanked the Glock from the glove compartment. His finger was on the trigger just below the window as the bikes whipped around them. Greg tapped the brakes and tried to steady his aim. That’s when he saw them—just a couple of cocky teenagers taking their girlfriends out for a ride on their crotch rockets.
Greg set the gun down in his lap and exhaled. It felt wrong to be leaving the mountains with Marco missing, but he needed to get Kristen out of there. He needed to take her somewhere safe, somewhere far away from Magnus and Grizzly Flats. Descendents were kicking into “Silly Girl” on the car stereo as she rested her head on his shoulder and gave a little sniffle.
Chapter Five
They’d only been home a few days, but Greg already needed to get out of the house. The Sunday night barbecue at Junior’s was the perfect excuse. Greg and his friends had started it twenty years ago, back when they were still young and thought they would live forever. These days, Greg felt like he was one of the last ones standing.
He threw the El Camino into park and climbed out. It felt just like old times walking across his high school girlfriend’s front yard. There were almost no toys scattered around the lawn now that her son, Chris, was thirteen years old.
Greg was still worried about Kristen, but felt glad she decided to stay home. He hadn’t spent much time with Junior and her family since he got back to town, and he was looking forward to catching up with her dad, Eddie. The old man had been like a father figure to Greg for as long as he could remember.
The door swung open before he even knocked. Eddie stepped out onto the porch and pulled him into a tight hug. It felt good, like coming home. His gray hair was a little thinner on top now, but he also looked healthier than he had in years.
“Greg! How the hell are you?”
“Doing pretty good, all things considered. How’s retirement?”
“I’m bored out of my mind. Come inside.”
They stepped into the living room. Greg was surprised that Chris wasn’t sitting on the ground in front of the TV playing video games. He spotted Junior in the kitchen tossing a salad in a wooden bowl. She fought off an ear-to-ear grin as he walked over to give her a kiss on the cheek.
“I barely recognize you, stranger.”
“I was just about to say the same to you.”
Greg