‘I couldn’t sleep,’ she said. ‘I’m thirsty and thought I’d get a drink.’
‘You didn’t call room service?’
‘I wanted to stretch my legs a bit,’ she nodded back at her room, ‘get out of that… that box for a while. Is it OK?’
‘You can do whatever you like. So long as you tell me first.’
Jay appreciated Hunter being there to guard them, understanding that for him to do so there were rules to be followed, and she didn’t want to compromise them in any way. She had listened to his ground rules for remaining safe, and one of them was that neither she nor Nicole left the hotel without him. She supposed that creeping from her room in the middle of the night wasn’t a contravention because she’d no intention of going outside.
‘I’ll get us coffee if you’d like one,’ she offered.
‘That’d be good.’
‘What about Nic?’
‘I’m sure she’d prefer to sleep.’
‘Uh, I meant…’
‘I know.’ He offered her a smile. ‘She’ll be fine, so long as I can watch who comes in or out of the hotel. There’s a vending machine in the lobby.’
‘You don’t think he’ll come tonight?’
‘Samuel Logan? No, I don’t. But… you never can tell.’
‘Surely the police will catch him before too long?’
‘Yeah,’ Hunter said, but she wasn’t easily fooled.
She smiled at his attempt at allaying her fears and he returned a flicker of a grin. His teeth glistened in the pale glow from a night light at the end of the hall.
Jay said, ‘Well, if he is coming, I wish he’d hurry up and get here because the waiting is the worst part.’
The calm Hunter radiated told her he was the type who could wait out the melting of a glacier, but he nodded anyway.
He followed her down to the lobby. The doors to the restaurant were locked tight, the room beyond in darkness. There was a clerk manning the desk, but as he began to rise up out of his seat, Hunter waved him back down.
‘Over here,’ Hunter said, leading her towards an alcove where machinery purred. ‘Let me buy you one instead.’
Still conscious that they might rouse everyone in the hotel, she moved through the lobby on the balls of her feet, her clothing swishing with the sway of her hips. Hunter watched her, but there was nothing lascivious in his observation, and she felt he was at ease in her presence. The same couldn’t be said for her. When she was under his gaze she felt like a schoolgirl experiencing her first crush and knew that she’d no right. Joe was in a relationship, he was happy with his girlfriend Imogen Ballard, and she should get him out of her head. It wasn’t easy, and some of the dreams she’d had tonight hadn’t been as horrifying as being back in Samuel Logan’s box.
She surprised herself by asking, ‘What’s your story, Joe?’
Hunter’s mouth turned down at the corners, but it wasn’t because he was unhappy at her question. He just appeared uncomfortable speaking about himself.
He laughed self-deprecatingly. ‘I’m a good guy, despite what some people might think.’
‘You’re more than that. Despite how you made it sound to me that time, you saved our lives: mine, Nicole’s and Ellie’s.’
‘That’s Joe Hunter for you.’
‘You were a soldier, right?’
‘Yeah. Special Forces.’ Hunter adjusted the gun in his belt so that it wasn’t apparent should another guest enter the alcove. Beyond him the vending machine hissed and plopped. Hunter winced and it wasn’t at the intrusive noises.
‘It’s an honourable profession,’ Jay said. ‘You should be proud.’
‘I am. I’m damn proud.’ The way he lowered his head told the lie.
‘I just bet you’ve seen some terrible things.’
‘Yeah.’ Hunter grunted as he returned his attention to the vending machine. ‘I had to do some terrible things too.’
‘Is that what’s so difficult to let go of?’
He handed her a waxed cup full of steaming coffee. Jay studied the man opposite her. From her time with him in the desert she recalled that his gaze was intense, and even in the half light of the alcove she could tell that his eyes were more guarded than usual. He seemed to find the floor interesting. Once before she had wondered if Joe found it difficult coming to terms with his past, and the thought struck her again. It was as if he read her mind and he shifted, bringing his head up to meet her stare. ‘What I did out there in the desert? I didn’t do that because your father paid me to find you, I did that because I needed to. Do you understand?’
‘You mean you needed to kill those men?’
Hunter shook his head ‘No, not exactly. I needed to find you and the others and punish the men responsible for hurting you.’
Jay did understand. Hunter thought that by helping victims now it would help him come to terms with those terrible things he’d done in the past.
‘You’re seeking absolution?’
‘Not from any god,’ Hunter said.
‘Isn’t it a little self-destructive? I mean, trying to find peace from a violent past by continuing to be violent?’
‘I don’t see things like that.’
‘You think that if you save someone it counterbalances the bad that you’ve done?’
Hunter retrieved his cup of coffee. He lifted it to his lips but paused. ‘I’m not explaining myself very well. It goes much deeper. Maybe I shouldn’t even be sharing this with you.’
Jay followed Hunter out into the lobby, thinking that maybe she shouldn’t have broached the subject. Hunter was obviously uncomfortable. The pain was evident in the set of his shoulders. She reached out and touched his arm.
‘It’s good to talk to a friend sometimes…’
He shook his head.
‘Talking doesn’t help. I’ve tried. It’s as simple as this, Jay: the Logans were monsters who deserved to die. One of them’s still alive, but, if he shows up here, I’ll kill him. That or I’ll die trying.’
‘That’s the only thing that will make you happy?’ Jay asked. ‘When you kill Samuel Logan… or he kills you?’
Hunter didn’t reply.
36
The police would expect Samuel to flee Arizona so he was not concerned when the train pulled into the station at Holbrook and he alighted on to the platform alongside other passengers. If anything they’d be watching for him trying to board a train, not getting off one. His disguise was working fine, especially with the bonus of the attaché case: it reinforced the image of a businessman in town for a meeting, even at this late hour.
He wandered outside and stood in a dusty swirl of cars circling outside the station as they picked up and dropped off passengers, watching for a cab. The cabs were being snapped up as soon as they arrived, and there were still a half dozen people waiting before him. He had considered stealing another car but thought that the third time would be the charm, an unlucky one at that. He had a raging thirst and walked to a nearby booth hawking cigarettes and soft drinks. He purchased neither but pulled a newspaper from the stand. On the cover was an update of the story that had rocked his homeland. The latest headline carried the shocking discovery of Doug Stodghill’s body at his auto shop. Samuel tossed the vendor a couple of rumpled dollars and walked away, perusing the story. The journalist had taken liberties with his report, much of it speculation, but Samuel was interested in a quote stating that the female victims had remained in Holbrook to help police with their ongoing inquiries.
Never one to worry about consequences, he joined the much-dwindled queue for a cab and told the driver to take him directly to the hotel where Doug Stodghill had told him the girls had been holed up since Friday.