Susan Sleeman

No Way Out


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voices swirled out of the soupy fog that had rolled in with the setting sun. The harsh words cut through the night and wound their way up the hill. She stopped in surprise when she recognized one of the voices as that of Nolan Saunders, her neighbor and her deceased husband’s partner on the Pacific Bay police force.

      What was Nolan doing out here with a storm on its way?

      She recalled that he was on duty tonight—he must have responded to a call here. No matter—she needed to get home to her twins before the clouds burst. She continued ahead on the trail, grateful for tiny solar lights mounted on wooden landscape beams that cast a dull light over her feet and kept her path unobscured.

      “You’re in too deep to walk away, Gibson.” Nolan’s raised voice, now sharp and clear, sent a whisper of unease down her back, and she came to a stop directly above them. She could make out the shadows of three men. The “Gibson” Nolan talked to must be fellow officer Frank Gibson, but who was the third guy?

      “C’mon, Saunders, I have to get out,” Frank said, sounding desperate.

      Nolan stepped closer, and Alyssa saw him stab his finger into Frank’s chest. “That’s not gonna happen, pal. Once a meth dealer, always a meth dealer.”

      Meth? Her husband, Todd, had died on the job from a fatal gunshot to the chest, but the resulting investigation found meth in his blood. They also linked him to a meth distribution ring, and he’d been branded a dirty cop.

      Had Todd worked with Nolan and Frank to distribute drugs? Was the whole Pacific Bay police force dirty?

      “You came to me, remember?” Nolan continued. “Said you needed the money.”

      “That’s because Danny was sick.” Alyssa had been praying for Frank’s son in his battle with leukemia. “Now that he’s in remission we’re caught up on our bills and I want out.”

      “See, here’s the problem.” Nolan moved closer to Frank. “There was no time limit on our association. You said you were with us for the long haul. Now a few of our dealers are busted and you want to run home to mama. Too bad. You belong to me now.”

      “Just let me walk away, man,” Frank pleaded. “I don’t want to go to jail, but I can’t live with the guilt anymore. I’ll turn you in if that’s my only way out.”

      “What makes you think I’ll let you rat us out?” Nolan’s volume had dropped, but it held twice the threat. “There’re other options if you decide to bail.”

      “Like what?” Frank paused, and she could imagine him glaring at Nolan. “Fine. You’re too chicken to say it so I will. I’ll end up a homicide statistic and framed as a drug dealer just like Todd.”

      “Just like Todd. Dead and buried,” Nolan answered. “But in your case there won’t be a need to frame you.”

      Oh my goodness, Todd!

      Nolan said “framed.” Maybe her husband hadn’t been dirty. Maybe he’d found out about the meth operation and threatened to report Nolan. Then Nolan had killed Todd and framed him.

      Nausea rose up her throat followed by a rush of anger. She considered Nolan a friend. He’d been there for her since Todd was murdered. Had let her and her seven-year-old twins live in one side of his duplex rent free. Helped her care for the children, becoming like a brother to her and an uncle to them.

      She wanted to climb down the hill and confront him. She took a step.

      No. She couldn’t. If what Nolan said was true, he was dangerous. A murderer! She had to get out of here before he discovered her. Once she was away from him, she could take her time to figure out what to do.

      The men continued to argue as she set off slowly for fear of making any noise. She made it a few feet when a blustery wind pummeled her body, knocking her off balance. She tried to right herself, but her foot caught on a rock, and she tumbled onto her hands and knees, smacking into the path with an audible thud.

      “Someone’s here,” Nolan said in that deadly-calm voice. “On the upper path.”

      “You think they heard us?” the third man asked.

      “I don’t know, but we’re not taking any chances,” Nolan said. “Get ’em.”

      Barely able to see through the thickening fog, Alyssa pushed to her feet. With the tiny landscape lights as her only guide, she ran. Hard and fast. Each step sent her heart beating faster. Powerful winds threatened to take her down, but she kept her footing and continued.

      She heard heavy footfalls pounding on the path below her. They were heading in the same direction—toward the downtown parking lot holding her car. They were a bit behind her, but Nolan’s long legs would catch her in no time.

      She picked up speed. Sharp pellets of rain assaulted her face, soaking her lightweight running jacket and weighing her down.

      The storm was upon them. Full force now. Raging and angry. She was struggling to get through the wind gusts and driving rain but took comfort from the knowledge that they would be struggling, too.

      She heard footfalls growing closer. Thud, thud, thud—they pounded on the soft soil that sucked at her feet. She fought hard to stay on course for the main road.

      No. Don’t go there. That’s where they’d have parked their cars.

      She had to think defensively. It would be too easy for them to catch her on the open road.

      She took a leap and plunged into the ditch ahead of them. She slogged through waist high grass, the sharp blades slicing into her hands. She raised them high.

      “He’s in the ditch. Get him,” Nolan called out to his buddies.

      Good, he thought she was a man, which meant her identity was safe. If she managed to outrun them.

      She kept going, her side hitching and her body begging to stop. Her pace faltered, and she slowed. The faces of her precious twins flashed in her mind. She had to make it out of here for them. She moaned with pain but pumped her legs harder. Her muscles burned but the ground disappeared behind her and the sound of her assailants finally fell off.

      Stopping, she filled her lungs with air and listened.

      Silence. Nothing but blessed silence, save the howling wind and brutal rain.

      They wouldn’t have given up. They’d probably gone to get their cars.

      If she kept going while they backtracked, she had a chance to escape before they figured out her identity. But where should she go?

      She searched the area. The beach.

      Yes, that’s it.

      They couldn’t follow her there in their cars.

      Lungs still screaming for air, she kicked into gear again. When she saw no traffic, she crossed the road, barreling down the hill and onto the sand. She heard sirens swirling closer and then stopping on the road behind her.

      No! They must have seen the direction she’d headed. She was too far away for them to identify her for now, but they would soon be tracking her on foot again. Her worst nightmare was coming true. They’d catch her and her children would be orphans.

      She wouldn’t let that happen. She raced toward the icy water and paralleled the shore, letting pounding waves erase her footprints. She hoped by the time they parked their car and made it down to the water that she’d be far enough away and they wouldn’t be able to see the direction she’d run.

      Cold sliced up her legs and tightened her muscles. She wanted to crumple onto the sand, but her only hope was to take shelter in her favorite spot. She often took her morning run along the softly flowing tides then sat on an outcropping of rocks and watched the waves, wishing for things that could never be. Things she thought she’d attain by the time she turned thirty-two but had remained elusive in her life.

      Tonight, instead of wishing, she could rest there and