Suspicion (30 page)

  "How do you feel about his betrayal?" another one shouted.

  "Have you forgiven him his indiscretion?"

  "Is the wedding still on?"

  As cameras flashed and microphones were pushed in her face, Megan did her best to ignore them and hurried across the parking lot, wishing she had let the valet attendant get her car. "I have nothing to say."

  "Oh, come on, Miss Hollbrook. Just a sound bite for the six o’clock news." A woman with a microphone in her hand and a cameraman in tow caught up with her. "It isn’t too much to ask, is it?"

  "Please leave me alone."

  An unpleasant-looking little man with a pallid complexion ran ahead of her, then turned around, blocking access to her car. "Eddy Povich with the Washington Chronicle, Miss Hollbrook. Do you believe Eric Logan is guilty or innocent?"

  "One hundred percent innocent." The words escaped her lips before she could remember her resolution not to say a word.

  "Does that mean you still intend to marry him?"

  Encouraged by Megan’s reply, the herd closed in around her and started shouting more questions at her.

  Tears streaming down her face, Megan pushed past them, nearly knocking down the Chronicle’s reporter as she yanked the Jaguar door open.

  In the safety of her car, she heaved a sigh of relief and quickly pulled out of the parking lot, keeping her head high as a camera continued to record the scene.

  Sitting on the bed in his motel room in Goshen, Eric watched the live broadcast of Megan’s hasty flight from the Village Green Country Club on CNN.

  He had never seen her look so upset. Or so hopelessly lost. But it was the vehement proclaiming of his innocence that shocked him the most. Her support was the last thing

  he had expected. And the realization that she still loved him after all he had put her through staggered him.

  Talk about an awakening.

  As Megan’s Jaguar disappeared from sight and the broadcaster invited viewers to stay tuned for further developments, Eric, on a wild impulse, picked up the phone and dialed Megan’s car phone.

  She answered on the third ring, a weak, tentative hello that made him feel like a total heel. "Megan, it’s me. Eric."

  "Oh."

  He heard the screech of tires as the Jaguar came to an abrupt stop. Then he heard her uncontrollable sobs.

  "Megan, please, don’t cry. I can’t stay on the phone long." He glanced toward the parking lot to make sure a fleet of police cars weren’t already storming the building. If Megan’s car phone was bugged, they would know his location in a matter of minutes and send the local fuzz after him.

  "Oh, Eric." After another few seconds, the sobs began to subside. "Is it really you?"

  "It’s really me. I saw what happened at the country club on television and I had to call. I’m sorry I put you through this hell, Megan. I wish I could take it all back."

  "I love you, Eric." The words were whispered, but he heard them loud and clear.

  "You do?"

  "With all my heart. I don’t care about that woman. And I don’t believe for one moment that you killed her. I’d stake my life on that."

  "Then you must be the only one."

  "No, I’m not. Kate doesn’t believe it, either."

  Eric let out a bitter laugh. "Is that why she dropped me like a hot potato?"

  "How did you find out about that?"

  "It made the news, kiddo. Kate is almost as famous as I am now."

  "We can get you another attorney. But you have to come back, Eric. You have to turn yourself in and tell the police that you didn’t do it."

  Eric drew a breath and let it out slowly. Megan was a sweet girl, but she could be so damned naive at times. "They’ll never believe me, Megan."

  "They will if you tell them the truth."

  "No way. I’m not coming back until they find the real killer."

  "Then tell me where you are. I want to come and see you."

  "No way. It’s too dangerous." She started to cry again, a pitiful sound that affected him more than he ever would have believed. "Don’t cry."

  "Then tell me where you are. I want to be with you, even if it’s for just a little while. And I won’t tell a soul where you are. I swear it."

  Eric hesitated. Should he risk it? It would be good to see Megan, to have a conversation with someone who believed in his innocence instead of always talking to himself. Not to mention that his funds were getting dangerously low. If he could think of a safe place to meet her, she might be able to bring him some money. Enough for him to move farther west. Montana maybe. Who the hell would think of looking for him in Montana?

  "Eric, did you hear me?"

  "Yeah, I heard you." He paused. "Maybe we can work something out, but you’ll have to be very careful. If at any time you think you’re being followed, you change course, you understand?"

  "I understand. Tell me where to go, Eric."

  "Wait a minute." Eric reached for the tricounty map on the nightstand. "There’s a better way to get here than the one I took." He spread the map out on the bed and prayed he wouldn’t regret this. "Take Route 66 west out of D.C., then 81 south. Follow the signs to Goshen, Virginia. At some point, you’ll see an old, faded wooden sign with Abbot Farms written on it. The road leading to the property is barely visible under the brush, but it’s there. You have to look for it."

  "Can my car get through?"

  "Yes. There are lots of twists and turns, but it’s wide enough for the Jag. At the end of that road and up on a hill, you’ll see an old, abandoned farmhouse. I’ll be there, waiting for you."

  "How long will it take me?"

  "About four hours. Maybe less. Oh, and Megan, I’m nearly broke so…could you bring me some money? As much as you can withdraw?"

  "All right. I love you, Eric."

  "I love you, too." He said it automatically as he had dozens of other times. When he hung up, he was wondering, too late, of course, if he had just made the worst mistake of his life. One that could cost him his freedom.

  At seven o’clock that night, Eric finally spotted the headlights of Megan’s car coming up the narrow, winding road.

  The camping lantern he had brought with him stood on a tree stump, illuminating a twenty-foot radius. He had discovered the abandoned farmhouse a couple of days ago during a foray through the countryside in search of a safe place to hide in case he had to leave the motel in a hurry.

  When the Jaguar neared the top of the hill, he picked up the lantern and swung it slowly back and forth until the car turned the bend and stopped.

  In an instant, Megan was out of the car and running toward him, half crying and half laughing. "Oh, Eric." She threw herself into his arms. "You’re here. You’re really here."

  "Didn’t you think I would be?"

  "I wasn’t sure. It took me so long. I got lost and had to backtrack. I must have wasted an entire hour."

  "You didn’t see anyone following you, did you?"

  "Not a soul. In fact, the last couple miles or so, I was the only one on the road." She stopped abruptly and took a step back.

  "What’s the matter? What’s wrong?" he asked.

  "You look different." She touched his hair, his beard.

  "With my picture in all the papers and on television, I had to do something to fool the cops."

  She giggled. "You look like my late grandfather."

  "Well, at least I know it works. I passed a cruiser on my way here and the cop behind the wheel didn’t even blink."

  "I would recognize you anywhere." Taking his face between her hands, she kissed him with a passion he never knew she possessed. Or maybe he had never noticed.

  "Did you bring the money?" he asked when she finally let him go.

  "Yes. Ten thousand dollars. That’s all I could withdraw without having to fill out a lot of forms. Even then, the manager, who knows me, came out when he heard I was taking all that cash out of the bank."

  "What did you tell him?"

  "That it was a personal matter."

  "What if he calls your mother?"

  "Let him. I’m not going back anyway."

  "What?"

  Megan seemed much calmer now, and her face looked more serene than he had seen it in months. "I’m not going back. I’m staying with you."

  "Absolutely not."

  "You can’t make me go back."

  He took her hands and held them tight. "Megan, listen to me. I live in a crummy motel. I eat sandwiches from a goddamned vending machine and I spend all my time looking over my shoulder, afraid some cop is going to grab me from behind. When I travel, I’m either on foot or in the back of some foul-smelling pickup truck."

  "We have my car now."

  "Oh, sure. How long do you think it will be until the cops spot it?"

  "We can have it painted. And we can put an old set of license plates on it. I passed a junkyard not too long ago. We could go there late at night and just…take what we need."

  Astounded, Eric looked at her. "I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Five minutes with me and you’re already talking like a fugitive."

  "I had several hours to think about it," she said.

  He gave a slow, incredulous shake of his head. "How can you choose a lifetime on the run over what you have at home?" Given the same circumstances, Eric wasn’t sure what he would have done. No, that wasn’t quite true, he thought with a twinge of remorse. He knew exactly what he would have done.

  "It’s easy." In the glow of the lantern, her eyes looked luminous. "I love you."

  "Your mother will never forgive you," Eric insisted.

  "I don’t give a damn about my mother! This is my life. And I’ll live it any way I please."

  Stunned, Eric took a step back and stared at her intently. He had never seen her like this. This girl, who had taken orders since the day she was born, who only knew how to be sweet and obedient, even submissive at times, was changing before his very eyes.

  "Megan, this is crazy. I have nothing to offer you."

  "You’re all I want. I would rather die than spend another day without you."

  "And you’re all I want." To his amazement, he realized that he truly meant it. It may even have been the one true statement he had ever made in his life. His feelings for Megan were changing, not because of her money, not because of what she could do for him, but because of what she had already done, because of her total faith and her unconditional love.

  Taking her in his arms, he kissed her, aware that his whole body was yearning for a lot more than this passionate embrace.

  "Come on," he said, afraid he’d ravish her right there. "Let’s go before we both freeze to death."

  She leaned her head on his shoulder as they made their way toward the car.

  Nothing Megan had ever imagined about being with a man could have compared to the feeling of total elation she was experiencing now, the morning after making love with Eric.

  Memories of last night brought a flush to her cheeks. She had been a little apprehensive at first, afraid of disappointing him. But the moment Eric had begun to undress her, slowly and lovingly, all her fears had melted away.

  With an inner chuckle, she remembered the day she had set the boundaries of their relationship, explaining that her virginity was important to her. It was a gift she had chosen to give to only one man-her husband.

  Eric had been upset at first, calling her old-fashioned, but eventually, he had understood. Maybe her request was the reason he had never been overly affectionate with her after his first few attempts to seduce her. He didn’t want to start something he knew he wouldn’t be allowed to finish.

  But last night had been different. Last night, up on the hill and then later during the short drive to the motel, she had given him clear signals, a little astounded with herself at this unexpected boldness.

  And now here she was, sitting up in bed beside Eric, munching on a cheese Danish and feeling like a newly wed. Soon, however, too soon, the moment would pass and she would have to face reality. And make a tough choice. To keep on running with Eric, or convince him to turn himself in and risk losing him.

  Although watching over her shoulder for the rest of her life didn’t particularly appeal to her, she had been sincere when she had told him that she would rather die than live without him.

  But she knew him too well to believe that sleeping in dingy roadside motels and eating out of vending machines was a viable compromise. Eric had always enjoyed the finer things in life. He loved expensive clothes, fast cars and traveling to exotic places. While he had, at times, experienced a serious shortage of funds, he always found a way to get back on his feet. Simply put, Eric was a man who couldn’t envision life without luxuries.

  The fact that he seemed content with his present situation didn’t fool her one bit. Weighed against the possibility of spending life behind bars, freedom, even under these conditions, was a luxury in its own right. But how would he be six months from now? Or even three?

  Miserable, Megan reflected as she watched him finish the last of his Danish. Eventually, the ten thousand dollars she had brought with her would be gone and they would be penniless. He would hate the life he had created for himself, and in time, because she had become a part of it, he would hate her, too.

  She couldn’t bear to see that happen. Which left them with only one option. To go back and try to prove his innocence.

  "I was thinking about something," she began, handing him what was left of her Danish.

  He ate the morsel and washed it down with coffee. "What’s that?"

  She chose her words carefully, knowing he would rebel at the slightest attempt on her part to pressure him. "I haven’t had a chance to tell you yet, but Detective Calhoon resigned last week."