Okay, I dug deep in the older fanfiction again and found this story to work on some more. The characters belong to the late great Spelling and I just borrowed them. I hope you enjoy it. It's in a couple parts.
The three of them sped away from the ranch house, in a stolen car. They had fled as soon as they had broken out without thinking about where they were going. All they wanted to do was put as many miles between them and the house as they could, in the brief window of time that they had to escape.
Rhonda looked behind her.
"Don't look back," Fran said, "We can only look ahead of us because once the state police get out there, they're going to come looking for us."
"Do you think the other girls got away?"
Fran shrugged.
"They had the same chance we did," she said, "I hope they took it."
"That was some party," Rhonda said in disgust, "can't say I'm unhappy to leave it."
"I can't say I'm thrilled to be in the same car as the two of you, but it's better than being back there," Fran said.
Rhonda made a face.
"I love you too."
The third woman just looked in silence at the road ahead and kept driving.
Matt Houston sat on his couch talking with the attractive blonde woman that he had met at a business conference. They had struck up a conversation after one of the seminars and then headed out for dinner, discussing their respective business interests. The woman, Shelli, ran a finance consulting firm in Beverly Hills and had seemed fascinated, listening to his stories about being a private investigator.
"Isn't it dangerous," she asked.
Matt didn't know how to answer her question in a few sentences. After all, everyone assumed that private investigators were always chasing some bad guy or being chased themselves when the truth was, a lot of the time, investigators like himself spent their time doing mundane and even boring tasks. Not that these jobs weren't as important as the profession's more exciting side but when he had told other women about the hours spent staking out places all night in yesterday's clothes, they seldom believed him.
Shelli ate up all his stories and looked like she wanted a crack at him. He studied her finely boned face and ash-blonde hair which reached her elegant shoulders and found himself attracted to her. So they took their mutual interest society back to the penthouse suite of his office building in Century City for further exploration. And so they were having a great time when suddenly his mind wandered.
One thought had nagged him all evening and that was that he really needed to check on C.J. who was currently on a road trip to a business meeting in Santa Fe, New Mexico. She had nixed flying out there to take a deposition from a client, instead opting to travel the nearly 1,000 miles of desert in her Mercedes convertible with only a map to guide her. She told him that since the actual act of receiving a deposition would likely bore her silly, she needed some fun and relaxation on the way to prepare herself for such an arduous ordeal. So despite his misgivings about a woman, let alone his closest friend driving on her own through hostile terrain, he kissed her goodbye before she took off, waving at him as she left. But not before checking her trunk to make sure she carried enough emergency provisions to outfit a small town.
"You'll give me a call every night after you check in your hotel," he said, "and sooner if you have any problems."
She laughed at him.
"Oh Houston," she said, "It's just one week. I'll be fine."
"Then I'll call you," he said.
And since she had left town, he had called her each day and sure enough, she was safely tucked away in some hotel with stories to tell him about the nature spots she had visited that day. And then the day of the conference, he hadn't called her at all.
He had meant to do so but the conference ran over and Shelli had kept him captivated at the restaurant though he did squeeze in two attempts to call C.J. and they had remained there several hours. Now they sat alone in his suite without any disturbances. She was moving in for the kill and suddenly, a vision of C.J. wandering lost in the desert crossed his mind.
"Excuse me," he said, untangling himself from Shelli and pulling out his phone.
"What's going on," she said, flustered.
"I'm just going to call the hotel where C.J. was spending the night," he said, "It will only take a minute."
She put her chin in her hand.
"But you already did at the restaurant," she said, "twice."
"I just want to make sure she checked in," he said, "Something probably delayed her earlier."
"Maybe she took a scenic detour," Shelli said, "or she ran into some old friends."
Matt waited on the phone while the hotel clerk checked his registration log. He frowned when the man told him that she hadn't shown up yet. He clicked off his phone, concern filling him.
"What is it Matt," Shelli asked.
"C.J. never checked into the hotel," Matt said, "No one's seen or heard from her."
Shelli smiled and stroked his arm.
"I'm sure she's okay," she said, "She's an adult and can take care of herself. Maybe she's out having some fun."
"But she would have called if anything happened," Matt said, getting up off the couch.
"Matt, is she your girlfriend," Shelli said, "because if there is something between the two of you, I really would like to know before we go any further."
He relaxed a bit and joined her back on the couch.
"No, we're just close friends," he said, "and maybe you're right, maybe she's out having some late dinner before she checks in for the night."
The car stopped at a worn out motel just off the highway outside of Phoenix. The three woman parked the car and one of them got out of it.
"I'll go see if they have a room," the brunette woman said.
"All right Bunny," Fran said, "You go do that."
"You'd better stay outside so if the police come here later on, the clerk will only remember seeing one of us," Bunny said.
Fran raised her eyes up.
"That's good thinking," she said, "I think this is something you've done before."
Bunny shrugged.
"I don't remember," she said, "Maybe I did. Maybe I was some kind of career criminal."
Fran rolled her eyes.
"I wouldn't go that far," she said, "You don't seem the type."
Bunny almost asked Fran what type she was talking about but then decided to drop it. She tried to say as little as possible to Fran. Rhonda seemed cool, but Fran's attitude hadn't improved since Bunny had thwarted an attack by her and her friends in the shower room. She had experienced as much disbelief after she had grabbed Fran into a hold as the other woman had. Who knows, maybe in her forgotten life, she had been a police officer. She wondered if she would ever know the truth.
She left the other women and went inside the office where a young man sat in the chair watching television and looking bored. When he saw her, he sat up straight.
"Hi, do you and your guy want a room for a couple of hours?"
She looked confused.
"Excuse me," she said.
"You're bringing in a customer, right," he said, "Just give me an extra 50 spot and I'll look the other way."
Suddenly, she understood and her face flushed. She didn't know why it did because after all, just several hours ago, she had been wearing a skimpy outfit entertaining the head of the state parole board at a party. But that experience had left her more creeped out than anything else, which she found reassuring. Every time he had touched her, her skin crawled and she had to ground herself to keep from running. Until the moment of opportunity appeared for her to fight back. She looked at the clerk and saw something in his eyes that reminded her of Piser, Sheriff Butz and the rest of them. So she mentally counted the steps to the door and how many different spots on the clerk's body she had to hit to knock him down. Was this some kind of instinct or training she had received that made her do this. She sighed, she had no time for any attempted trips down the foggy banks of memory lane right now.
He kept staring at her. She looked up at him without blinking.
"Guy, there's no guy," she said, "It's just me."
The clerk became flustered.
"Then forget everything I just said. I run a reputable establishment," he muttered, then tried to change the subject, "What are you doing in Phoenix?"
Bunny already had her story prepared.
"I've been driving all day to visit the Grand Canyon and I don't think I'm going to make it tonight."
He smiled.
"It will still be there tomorrow," he said, "You really traveling alone?"
She nodded, waiting while he processed the paperwork.
"I can take care of myself," she said, "in case you're thinking about trying anything."
The tone in her voice made him take a step backward.
"I'm sure you can," he said.
"Do you need anything, like ID," she asked.
She didn't know what she would do if he asked for photo proof of her identity. They'd probably have to sleep in the car on some deserted rest stop or street if they couldn't find a motel that didn't require it.
"Oh that's okay, we don't ask for ID here," he said, "but we do want cash."
She nodded.
"That will be fine."
Bunny reached in her pocket and found some that she and the other women had lifted before leaving the burning building. She handed it to him, trying not to flinch when his fingers caressed hers.
"You're sure an attractive young woman to be out on your own," he said.
"And I'm not looking for any company," Bunny said, "just my room key."
She reached out her hand and he removed a key from a rack of them behind him and gave it to her without another word.
Later, she and the other two women sat on the double beds inside their drab motel room and counted the money they had stolen from the ranch.
"It's not bad considering we were on the run," Fran said, "but it's not going to last very long in this economy."
"So what are we going to do," Rhonda said, folding her arms, "rob a liquor store?"
Fran remained quiet, thinking as usual.
"That's an idea," she said.
"I was kidding," Rhonda said, "I think the last thing we should do is draw attention to ourselves."
Fran smirked.
"It's a little too late for that don't you think?"
"But we've got to keep below the radar Fran," Rhonda said, "or they'll find us fast and what do you think will happen to us when we're back in jail?"
Fran didn't answer. She knew.
"We're fugitives," Fran pointed out, "We're escapees from jail. It would be real easy for us to wind up dead while resisting capture as a mitigating circumstance?"
Rhonda sighed.
"We were being pimped by some crooked sheriff and some politicians for sexual favors," she said, "Wouldn't that factor into our escape?"
Fran looked up from the pile of money.
"Do you think they're really going to buy that there was a prostitution ring operating right under their noses," she said, "Besides most of the people in power in that town seem to be corrupt and in on it."
Rhonda nodded slowly.
"You got a point," she said, "We've got to have a plan about where we're going to go and how we're going to get there."
Bunny stood next to the window looking out. She ignored the conversation going on behind her and tried to focus her mind on what was missing, her life. But every time she tried to remember even basic things about herself including her name, she drew a blank. She did occasionally experience some brief flashes, visions of her old life but the moment she tried to grab onto them, they slipped away back where they came from. Several times that day, a man had flashed in front of her but she couldn't make out his face. Who was he? Was he out looking for her, or was he someone she had run away from? She turned away from the window. All this thinking gave her a headache.
"Are you with us or not," Fran asked.
Bunny looked at them, startled out of her reverie.
"I am," she said, "I'm trying to think about where we can go next. We can't stick around here waiting to be found."
"We've got to leave the state," Rhonda said, "We should have been out of here already."
Fran stood up and started pacing.
"I would have been better off if I'd just taken off without the two of you," she said.
"Oh come off it," Rhonda said, "Bunny saved both of our butts back there. If it weren't for her, we'd be dead."
Bunny just looked at them and sat on the corner of one of the beds putting her hands over her head.
"I would have made it out anyway," Fran said, "And how did Bunny lose that creep Piser?"
"I hit him on the head," Bunny said, simply, "I had to, to get away from him. He didn't follow me out of the room."
"Was he dead," Rhonda asked, softly.
Bunny struggled to remember. She saw him lying on the floor next to his bed, bleeding from a head wound.
"I didn't check to see if he was still breathing," she said, "but I didn't hit him that hard."
"What about Sheriff Butz," Rhonda asked, "I didn't see him anywhere. Did he just take off?"
"He's probably working with the State Police right to put a posse on our tail," Fran said, "and going after the other girls to save his own skin."
"I hope they all made it away safely," Bunny said, "but if they find them..."
"That's all the more reason for us to get out of here as soon as morning comes," Rhonda said.
After Matt had called the hotel several more times, he grew more worried about what had happened to C.J. The first couple of times when he had returned to picking up where he left off with Shelli, she was understanding. After the third phone call, she finally called him on it.
"Look, you're a nice guy and you're sexy as hell," she said, "but I can't go on like this. It's clear you have unresolved issues with your 'friend' and I don't want to be the third wheel while you sit around trying to figure it out."
Matt protested.
"She and I are just close friends," he said, "I'm just worried because she hasn't checked in to her hotel yet."
Shelli folded her arms.
"Has it occurred to you that maybe she's up in her room with some guy she met and she hasn't gotten around to checking in with you yet?"
That thought hadn't occurred to Matt and he looked at Shelli in surprise for bringing it up.
"I don't think she'd do that," he said, "She just broke up with a guy she thought she was going to marry."
Shelli was losing her patience.
"That's the perfect time to get it on with some other guy you've just met," she said, "when you've just been jilted."
He looked at her more closely.
"Is that what's happening here," he asked.
She didn't answer right away.
"Well no...maybe," she said, "but I really liked you. It's just not going to work. I should have known better to mix business with pleasure."
"Look I'm sorry," Matt said, "But I need to make sure that C.J. is safe before I do anything else."
She nodded.
"I understand," she said, getting up, "If you want to give me a call to try again, you have my number."
He walked her to the elevator and they said goodbye.
After Shelli had taken off, Matt had gone to his beach house and then called Chris to meet him at the office to help him. No problem, she said, I'll come right on over. Within an hour, she walked out of the elevator to join him and saw the look on his face that was always there when something had happened to his best friend.
"Thanks for coming so quickly," he told her.
She nodded.
"Have you heard anything?"
He shook his head and went to pour himself a glass of Scotch from his wet bar.
"No one has seen or heard from her," he said, "I'm going to make some calls to the state police. I have a friend who works there and see if they can find anything out."
"What do you want me to do," she said.
"Book me a flight out to Phoenix," he said, "That's the last place that we know she was."
Chris followed him into the living room.
"But it's the middle of the night," Chris said, "Are you sure you don't want to wait until morning?"
Matt turned to face her and his facial expression answered her question. She
"No," he said, having already packed his bags after Shelli had left, "I do want you to stay by the phone in case she calls."
Chris nodded, knowing that it would be a long night.
"I'll tell them to have a car waiting," Chris said, before he took his bags and went to his helicopter.
Bunny got out of bed first and went to take a shower. She closed her eyes and tried not to think too much as she washed away the dirt both visible and not of the past several days. While rinsing, she noted the laceration on her side. She touched it gingerly and noticed how red and sore it was. She had gotten injured while leading the others out of Piser's ranch, including a stint crawling on the ground beneath a barb wired had just felt a slight burning sensation at the time. Escape being the most important thing. She hadn't had time to clean it.
She heard a knock the bathroom door.
"Are you still in there," Fran said, "We got to get moving."
Bunny turned off the shower and grabbed a towel.
"I'm done," she said, "What's next?"
"Rhonda's getting us some breakfast food before we leave," Fran said, "We want to get out of the state as quickly as possible because for sure, we've drawn some heat."
"Why don't you turn on the TV and see what's on the news," Bunny suggested, "That will give us some clue about the attention our escape has attracted."
Fran did that before taking a shower. Bunny sat on the edge of the bed and looked at a female newscaster giving the weather report. Suddenly, the top of the television screen read, "Breaking News" and the station broke away to an ongoing news story. The image of a burning house and police and fire vehicles surrounding the property filled the screen and Bunny felt sick to her stomach. A male reporter filled the viewers in on more details about what had happened.
"The cause of the fire is believed to be arson. When fire fighters were able to finally enter the inferno, they discovered a male body in one of the bedrooms. The Coroner's office has just released the identity of that individual as Seymour Piser, 50, a member of the state correctional board. An autopsy is planned for today to pinpoint an exact cause of death. This is Brad Knudson, channel eight news signing off from Bannon County."
Bunny froze when she saw the familiar image of Piser on the screen. She didn't know why he was dead. The door opened and Rhonda came in, carrying several bags of fast food.
"I got a good deal…"
Her voice faded when she saw the television.
"Is that where we were," she asked, "and why's the house on fire?"
Bunny just stared at the television but finally nodded.
"Piser's dead," she said simply, "and they're saying that the sheriff had brought a bunch of female prisoners there for a special luncheon before they...we escaped."
Rhonda's eyes widened.
"Special luncheon? Benefactors," she said, "Who came up with that fairytale and is selling it?"
"The only people who count," Bunny said, "and we're not there to say otherwise as if that would matter."
"If we were, we'd be dead," Rhonda said, "I heard on the news at the restaurant that Carrie and Donna were found shot to death by the bus station in Phoenix."
Bunny put her hand over her mouth.
"Oh my god," she said, "They've already started it."
Rhonda paused.
"They still haven't said who did it," she said, "It could have been some other bad guys. The world's full of them."
Bunny shook her head.
"No, they're killing witnesses to their crimes," she said, "which means they'll come after us."
Rhonda nodded slowly.
Fran walked out of the bathroom, towel drying her hair.
"What's going on here," she asked when she saw their expressions.
Bunny just looked at her.
"We got to get the hell out of here," she said, "Now."
Matt's plane landed on time at Phoenix International and sure enough, the car waited for him in front of the terminal building. He drove around Phoenix for a while after phoning the state police to say that he had arrived in town and needed to meet with them. His friend, a sergeant there, said that a search for C.J. had reached a dead end, after he checked every police agency, hospital and morgue. Matt closed his eyes at the sound of the last word. He didn't even want to consider that possibility and pushed it out of his almost apologetically, the sergeant said that most of the agency's resources were focused on a murder and arson case that had just happened the previous day. Still, they would keep an eye out for any reports of a woman matching C.J.'s description.
Matt said he would keep in touch and headed on the highway, following the planned route that C.J. had mapped out for her road trip. He turned on the radio.
"…the fire which has been put out may have been set to mask the death of ranch owner and state correctional board member, Semour Piser who was found dead in one of the bedrooms of his estate. It's believed that up to a dozen female prisoners who were attending the special luncheon may have escaped. All of them are considered dangerous and potentially armed."
Matt shook his head. It sounded like all hell was breaking loose in Arizona today.
Bunny kept driving the car, spending most of her time on secondary streets to avoid the highways as long as she could. Both Fran and Rhonda listened nervously on the radio for more news about their escape and bits and pieces came in including that an autopsy would be conducted on Piser by the coroner's office.
"How could Piser be dead," Rhonda asked.
"He got what he deserved," Fran said, unflinchingly, "The guy was a creep. He's probably been running his little prostitution operation with Sheriff Butz for years."
Rhonda looked at Bunny, her eyes narrowed.
"Weren't you the last to see him," she asked.
Bunny kept her eyes focused on the road.
"I knocked him on the head," Bunny said, "I admit it, but not hard enough to kill him."
"Well maybe he couldn't get out of the fire," Rhonda said, "Because you hit him and knocked him out."
Bunny bit her lip. That could be true and what would that make her, a murderer? Maybe Piser's life hadn't been the first one she had taken. She tried to think back to what had been running through her mind when she had hit him but all she remembered was feeling fear enough so to take drastic measures. Wasn't that self-defense? But even so, shouldn't she feel remorse? So many questions and no answers about herself, with each day bringing more questions and only a few quick glimpses into her past.
"I just wanted to get away from him," Bunny said, "and we don't know how the fire even started. That must have happened after we left."
Fran shrugged.
"Maybe they set it to cover their tracks," she said, "So the police wouldn't know why we were really there."
"That's right," Bunny said, "We know Butz kept records in his office. Maybe Piser did too at his place."
"Like the list I found in your clothes," Fran sneered, "I still wonder if you were working with him, if you were a plant."
"I wasn't. I never met him before," Bunny said, "I was arrested along with Rhonda at a diner."
Rhonda nodded.
"How would you even know," Fran said, "You say you can't remember anything yet you claim you found that list in his desk drawer while he was out of the office."
"I don't know why I took that list," Bunny said, "It just felt like the thing to do."
"Yeah right," Fran said, turning to look out the window.
Bunny continued driving. She wasn't in the mood to deal with anymore of Fran's insinuations. All she wanted to do was to put as many miles between herself and Piser's ranch house as possible. That and to find out her real identity hoping she'd live long enough to solve that mystery.
"We need to figure out where we're going," Rhonda asked, "We could hit Vegas and hide out there."
Fran made a face.
"I think I'm wanted there."
The other women looked at her, brows raised. Fran shrugged in response.
"Nothing serious, I ran a scam at one of the casinos and the city doesn't forget or forgive for that."
"You'd been better off if you just killed someone in Vegas than tried to cheat the House," Rhonda noted.
"I'll remember that next time," Fran said.
"So if Vegas is out, where should we head to then," Bunny asked.
Both women gave it some serious thought.
"We need to ditch the car some place first," Fran said, "It's probably been reported as stolen by now."
Bunny nodded.
"I guess we'll have to get another one," she said.
"You mean steal it," Fran said, "Anyone here know how to hotwire a car."
"I could give it a try," Bunny said.
"Let's go find one," Fran said, "and this time not one that's going to attract so much attention."
Matt drove through some of the most desolate desert he had ever seen in his life. Hardly any signs of life existed except some cacti and tumbleweed bushes here and there. He passed through one small town after another and checked in with the police and hospitals, if there were any within the limits showing a photo of his best friend. Always, the people he talked to answered in the negative. No, a woman looking like C.J. hadn't been spotted or shown up anywhere in town. He wondered if she had just fallen off the face of the earth but his logical side told him that wasn't possible. But where could she had gone? And what had happened to her?
He passed a sign that said, "Welcome to Bannon County" and kept driving until he reached yet another small town that if you blinked, it would be in the rear view mirror. Suddenly, something caught his eye. He saw a burned out Mercedes convertible sitting in a lot with a bunch of other vehicles in similar shape. He quickly turned into the business and saw an old man sitting in a chair sipping a beer
"Hi, I am Matt Houston, a private investigator out of L.A.," he said, handing the man his business card, "I was driving by and I saw that car. It belongs to a friend of mine."
The man paused looking at the business card.
"Was this friend of yours a woman?"
Matt nodded and pulled out a photo of C.J., handing it to the man who looked at it and nodded.
"That's her," he said, handing the photo back.
"Have you seen her," he said, "Was she hurt?"
The man shrugged.
"There was no one with the car," he said, "She might have decided to hitchhike to the next town."
Matt put the photo away and asked the man to call him if he heard anything and then he took off again. He drove along the highway and then saw some smoke in the distance. He wondered if that was the fire at the ranch house that he had heard about on the news. He pulled off the highway and drove in the direction of the smoke to find out.
Bunny looked at the sign approaching them that said that they were heading into California. The other women noticed it too. They were riding in a sedan that they had lifted off a street near the Arizona and California border. It looked like it had been parked there a while and she didn't think anyone would miss it so C.J. hot wired it and they drove off. As C.J. looked in the rear view mirror at their former car, she wondered if she had been a car thief in her old life. Then she breathed a sigh of relief that they weren't breathing Arizona air anymore.
"We're in California, now," she said.
Rhonda also sighed in relief, looking out the window.
"God knows this isn't the prettiest part of California but it's great to be out of Arizona," she said.
The others agreed and they pulled into a diner to pick up a meal. They didn't think anyone would recognize them in the god-forsaken desert town so they parked the car and went inside the one small establishment. A middle-aged woman chewing gum handed them some faded menus after they sat in a booth. They looked at their dwindling money supply.
"We're going to need more cash," Fran said, finally.
"How are we going to get some," Rhonda said, "and where are we going to go. You know they're looking for us and it's not just the police."
Bunny nodded, remembering the news about two of the escaped prisoners already being found dead only hours after the escape. They didn't want witnesses witnesses just like they likely burned Piser's house down so that they wouldn't leave any evidence behind for the state police to find. Suddenly, she found herself thinking of the mountains and a nice place located next to a crystal-clear the man whose face still eluded her.
"I think I know where we can hide out," Bunny said, finally, "But it's a bit of a drive."
"We've got a full tank of gas," Fran grumbled, "thank goodness for small favors."
Rhonda looked at Bunny.
"So what are you thinking of," she asked.
Bunny paused.
"It's a small cabin in the mountains," she said, "It's pretty isolated and that will at least give us some time to think about what to do next."
Fran scoffed.
"How do you know about it," she said, suspicion in her eyes again, "Is it some kind of love nest for you and Piser?"
Bunny's eyes flashed.
"Don't you dare even say that or I'll knock you down again," she said, "I felt disgusted every time he touched me. I can still feel him."
Fran rolled her eyes, but she backed down.
"So how do you know about this place anyway," Rhonda asked, "Did you remember anything?"
Bunny thought about it, not knowing the answer to that question. She just knew that this cabin existed, she could picture it in her mind but how she knew about it remained lost with the rest of her memories.
"I don't know how I know," she said, finally, "I just do and I know that once we get there, we'll be safe."
Matt walked up to a couple of state police officers who were watching the activity of investigation and recovery going on around them while fire fighters put out the last of the smoldering embers where a ranch house once stood. One of them, a tall man with stripes, barked orders into a radio.
"Who are you," one of them asked as he approached.
He introduced himself and told them that he had a contact in the state police.
"I'm looking for a woman," he said, "She's been missing since at least yesterday."
They frowned and looked at each other.
"We're looking for a bunch of missing women," one of them said, "Only our group escaped from this ranch yesterday and are on the loose."
Matt looked around at the rubble, still trying to figure out exactly what had happened.
"Why were the women here and not in their cells," he asked.
"Semour Piser was hosting a special luncheon for them," he said, "to provide a change of surroundings for the women and this is how they rewarded him."
The police officer shook his head, disgusted.
Matt reached into his pocket.
"Listen I know you're very busy here, but I wonder if you've seen this woman before," he said, showing the men the photo.
They studied it. One of them reached for it to examine it closer. Matt thought he saw a flicker of recognition go through his eyes.
"She looks kind of familiar," the man said, "but I don't know if I've seen her."
Matt saw a stocky man with a beer belly dressed up as a county sheriff walk up to the state policemen.
"How much longer are you going to need me and my men here," the man asked, "We've got to get back to the jail and make sure the rest of our inmates haven't escaped."
One of the state policeman held up his hand.
"Now Sheriff Butz, we know this has taken a long time," he said, "but surely you can see how important it is for us to secure the crime scene and do a thorough investigation of this homicide and arson. We needed your men for perimeter detail."
Butz nodded then looked at Matt.
"Who are you," he asked, warily.
Matt disliked the man on sight but he introduced himself and showed him the photo of C.J. anyway and this time, he felt sure that someone here recognized her.
But Butz shook his head.
"Nope," he said, "Never saw her before in my life."
Matt studied the sheriff and knew that he had lied but why? How had his path crossed with C.J.'s? Did he know where she was now?
"Look, are you absolutely sure you've never seen her before," he said, "Her crashed vehicle was found within your jurisdiction and no one I've talked to has seenor heard from her since."
Butz shook his head again.
"I just told you I've never seen your lady friend before but you can file a missing person's report with my office," he said, "Now I've got work to do."
Matt watched him walk away, knowing that a lot of information walked away with him. But the odds of getting it out of him in this setting were poor at best. Then he saw his friend, Dave, walk up to talk with his men. The other men deferred to their commanding sergeant.
"Matt, what are you doing here," Dave asked.
"I just showed a photo of C.J. to that Sheriff Butz and I know he's seen here before," Matt said.
"But Butz denied it?"
Matt sighed.
"He said, he'd never seen here before but I know the man is lying," he said.
"How can you be so sure," Dave said.
"Because I just know it," Matt said, "I don't know why he just lied to me."
Dave pulled Matt aside.
"This is just between you and me," he said, "If you say anything about this to anyone, I'll deny it."'
Matt nodded.
"What have you got to tell me about Butz?"
"We know that he's dirty as they come," he said, "and not to be trusted."
Matt ran his hand through his hair.
"I know that he recognized C.J.," he said, "I saw it on his face."
Dave scratched his face.
"We know there was something else going on here besides this luncheon," he said, "The problem is, most of the evidence probably was destroyed in the fire."
"What about the women who escaped," Matt asked.
"Two of them were found shot to death this morning," Dave said, "No witnesses."
"And the rest?"
"They're out there somewhere," Dave said, "Probably not waiting to be found by anyone."
"What about searching the jail facility for more clues?"
"We need a warrant to do that and we're not going to find a judge to sign one in these parts," Dave said, "The truth is that the feds have been itching to investigate the whole county for corruption for years. They just don't have a smoking gun to justify a full-scale investigation."
Matt looked at what remained of the house thoughtfully.
"You might have one now," he said, "And I'll bet that Sheriff Butz is in the middle of it."
"The problem is that Semour Piser died in the fire," he said, "and this was taking place on his ranch and the death of such a prominent individual at the state level has to take priority."
"What's the cause of death," Matt asked.
"It's not public but he had received a blow on the head which probably knocked him out," Dave said, "He probably wasn't conscious when the fire broke out."
"Any soot in his lungs?"
"We won't know until they do the full autopsy later today," Dave said, "There's a lot of unanswered questions here."
Matt realized that too, the least of which was where the hell was C.J. and why had Butz lied about recognizing her? And more importantly, did she have any connection to what had happened at Piser's ranch?
Bunny blinked her eyes, as a wave of dizziness hit her. She tried to focus on the road. They had seen a group of highway patrol cars, sirens piercing driving down the opposite side of the highway so they had gotten off to hit the secondary roads again.
"Are we almost there," Rhonda asked, blinking her eyes.
"I think so," Bunny said, focusing on the road.
"You think so," Fran said, "You either know or you don't."
"It's just like I said," Bunny said, "I think we're getting closer. "
"Oh that's reassuring," Fran said.
Bunny turned around to look at her.
"You can get out if you like," she said, "but I'm not going to end up like those poor women they found this morning."
Fran folded her arms.
"Who are you really," she asked, "It's not strange to meet someone who wants to forget their past but it's definitely so with someone who claims not to remember who they are."
Bunny set her jaw.
"I told you that I don't know," she said, "All I remember is waking up next to a burning car and that's it."
"How do we know you're not on the FBI's Most Wanted list already?"
Not a unreasonable question, Bunny thought, she didn't know what kind of person she was or what kind of life she had lived up to now. She could be a heartless killer. After all she apparently had taken a life within the only 48 hours she could remember. She had felt little remorse when she had struck Piser, just doing what she had to do to get away from him. Anyone would have done the same thing under the circumstances, wouldn't they?
"Hey lay off on Bunny, won't you," Rhonda said, "She told you she doesn't remember anything."
Bunny listened to them, focusing on the road ahead.
Matt drove to the Bannon County Detention Center for Women to check it out. He parked his car when he came upon the facility and looked around. Several women milled outside but other than that, it appeared quiet. He walked into the corridor and ran smack into Butz who apparently had arrived back there recently from his stint at the crime scene.
"Excuse me," Matt said, "I was wondering if you could answer some questions for me."
Butz looked at him and shook his head immediately.
"I've got a lot of work to do," he said, "The State Police kept me and my deputies at the crime scene until they released us about an hour ago."
Matt nodded.
"Well that's all well and good," he said, "But I wanted to talk to you about C.J. Parsons and file that missing person's report like you suggested."
"You can do that at the front desk," Butz said, starting to walk away.
"I'd rather talk about her and her whereabouts with you, Sheriff," Matt said.
"What about her," Butz said, "I told you I had never seen her before."
Matt stroked his jaw.
"Well, that's the part that confuses me," he said, "Because when you looked at her picture, you seemed to recognize her."
"She's an attractive woman," Butz said, "Perhaps that's what I saw."
Matt followed Butz into his office. Butz turned around to face him and Matt wondered if he would call his deputies to escort him out. Instead, he sat down at his desk.
"I told you that I hadn't seen her before," Butz said.
"Did you or the state police distribute any photos of the ladies who escaped from the ranch house," Matt asked, "so that people who saw them could contact the authorities."
Butz just looked at him.
"We're working on that," he said, "Gathering all that information together."
A deputy poked his head in the office.
"There's a guy who wants to speak with you a moment, Sheriff" he said.
Butz looked at Matt.
"Excuse me, but I have business to attend to outside," he said.
The sheriff walked out of his office, leaving Matt alone. Matt took advantage of that opportunity and got up to look around the office a bit, trying to find something, anything incriminating on the sheriff or anything that might lead him to C.J.
Butz glowered when he met with one of his contacts in the hallway.
"What are you doing here," he said, "I have an out of town private investigator nosing around here."
"That's your problem," the man said, "You've got to destroy any evidence you have here before the state police get a warrant and sends a team out here to turn this place upside down."
"They can't do that," Butz said.
"They will do it," the man said, "in a matter of hours. Our state contacts aren't going to be enough to stop them this time."
"I've got to get rid of this Matt Houston first," Butz said, "He's looking for C.J. Parsons."
"Who's she," the man asked.
"She was the woman that came in the other day on solicitation charges who attracted Piser's attention," Butz said, "This man says that she's a lawyer who works with him."
"And she was one of your girls, wasn't she?"
Butz sighed.
"Do you think I could pass up an opportunity like that," he said, "She doesn't remember anything about where she came from, not even her name. Besides, Piser took a liking to her and I couldn't refuse him."
The man's looked at Butz and shook his head.
"Do you think she escaped with the others?"
"Of course she did," Butz said, "She's not hanging around here is she?"
The man folded his arms and sighed.
"Our whole operation risks exposure which will mess up a lot of political careers at the capitol," the man said, "You've got to clean up this mess. You take care of it on your end and some men I hired will take care of our other remaining problem."
"The women," Butz guessed.
The man nodded.
Butz swallowed nervously.
"The men who killed those two ladies at the bus station, that was your people?"
The man looked at him dismissively.
"You don't need to know about that," he said, "You and Piser screwed up and now it's up to me to direct a cleanup. You just make sure that the state police don't find anything when they come here."
"Yes sir," Butz answered, thinking of all the work he had ahead of him.
He knew it would take the state police at least several hours to get a judge to sign a search warrant of the facility but he still had to get busy destroying and shredding evidence. But first he had a inquisitive and persistent investigator to get rid of in his office.
Matt looked around the office, his eyes all over the cramped and disorganized room. He knew he only had a few minutes before Butz came back so he had to make the best use of them. He tried to open the drawers but found most of them locked. Still, the top one swung open and he pulled out some photographs of women scantily dressed in outfits getting cozy with older men, smiles frozen on their faces. He didn't see C.J. among them. He grabbed several of them and put them in his case. Then he walked around the room, right next to a sofa which was across from Butz desk. His eyes narrowed as he saw a glint of something shiny nestled between the cushions. He pulled it out gently and discovered it was a necklace with a broken clasp. Dangling it carefully from his fingers, he looked it over and his eyes shot up as he realized it looked an awful lot like the necklace he had given C.J. for her birthday. He turned it over and read a familiar inscription on its back, one that he had told the jeweler to inscribe when he had the necklace custom made. He stood examining it for a long moment, understanding it was his one link to C.J. and he knew it was proof positive that Butz had lied to him.
With that knowledge, Matt heard the door knob suddenly open and he walked back to where he had been sitting, tucking the necklace in his hand. Butz entered the room and smiled at Matt. After he saw the expression that Matt gave him in return, Butz smile fell right off of his face.
"What are you looking at," he demanded.
Matt opened his hand and Butz's eyes fell on the necklace.
"Where'd you find that," Butz asked, his eyes flittering around his office.
"It belongs to a certain female friend of mine who is now missing," Matt said, "and I have a strong feeling that you've been lying to me."
"That necklace proves nothing," Butz said, "I've never seen it before."
Matt stood up.
"Where is C.J.," he asked, "I'm going to ask you once nicely then things are going to get a bit rough."
"I said…I have never seen your girlfriend before," Butz said, stubbornly.
Matt saw the sheriff hide his hands behind his desk and before Butz had the chance, he pulled out his own gun and aimed it straight at the sheriff.
"Now are you going to tell me where she is," Matt said.
"You can't aim a gun at a law enforcement officer," Butz said, "I'll have you arrested and thrown in jail."
Matt pressed the trigger.
"Where is she," he said, "This is your last chance to tell me."
"If you'll kill me," Butz said, "They'll give you the death penalty."
"Not after they're done investigating you and whatever dirty operation you have been conducting out of your jail and at that ranch," Matt said, "If I shoot you, it will save the state the expense of a complicated and very ugly trial."
Butz looked up at Matt who didn't waver in aiming his gun directly at the sheriff's head. Butz thought quickly, while looking for an escape route. Maybe it was time to find a way to make a deal with the state police and avoid a prison sentence. Ex-law enforcement officers didn't last long behind bars living with all the people they helped put there and he suddenly felt his world crashing down around him. Still, he had one card left in his deck to play.
"If you shoot me, you'll never know where she is," Butz said, "and the hit men that my boss sent out will find her before you do."
Bunny pulled up the car next to the cabin and parked it. She and the other women got out to look at it.
"Wow, it's beautiful," Rhonda said, looking around.
Fran shrugged her shoulders.
"It's not bad," she said, "what's it look like inside."
Bunny smiled.
"I guess we'll find out."
"We don't have a key," Fran said, "Are we going to break in?"
Bunny followed her instincts, looking around the front of the cabin. She found a row of potted plants with dried foliage in them. She tipped them over, looking for a key but not finding anything. Wrinkling her brow, she looked again and found one plant up above the others. She stepped up on her toes, flinching at the sudden pain she felt in her side and checked that pot. She was surprised to find a key under there. How did she know where to look? She didn't give it much thought but chalked it to being another mystery about her past life that might never be solved.
She tried the key in the door and sure enough it worked. The three of them walked inside closing the door behind them. They walked into a spacious living room with a hardwood floor and a stone fireplace. There were several bedrooms and a nice kitchen, with a pantry that was adjacent to a sun room. Immediately without knowing why, Bunny felt that she had come home, or at least to some place familiar but why, remained tantalizingly out of reach.
"This is some cabin," Rhonda said, "The owner must have some serious money."
Bunny shrugged, taking her coat off and laying it on the sofa. Fran came back from inspecting the kitchen.
"There's some canned goods in the cupboard but not much in the frig," she said, "We're going to need to get some food if we're going to hide out here for a while."
"There's a small market a mile or so up the road, I think" Bunny said, "They should have a good selection of food."
"How much money do we have left," Fran said.
"Not much," Bunny said, "so just get some basic staples to start with that will last a while."
Fran nodded.
"Should we go then," she said.
Bunny thought about joining them, but suddenly she didn't feel very well and the wound on her side needed some tending. Surely, there must be a first aid kit in the cabin some place.
"I'll stay here," she said, "You go."
So they went and Bunny went to find the kit. She stopped to look at the paintings on the walls, in the hallway. She wondered if she had spent any time in the cabin and then realized she must have but did it belong to her, or someone she knew? Why did she feel so comfortable time for the first time since her world had been turned upside down?
Matt aimed the gun at Butz and didn't waver even as Butz tried to dangle information about C.J. in front of him to get him to holster it. Matt knew that deep inside Butz lived a coward.
"You're running out of time to tell me where she is," Matt said, his finger pressed against the trigger, "Unless you start talking right now."
"If you shoot me, you'll never know," he said, "and if those men find her, she is dead anyway."
"Whose men," Matt asked.
"The ones who work for the guy that run this operation," Butz said, "These are some very powerful players."
"Your friends at the state Capitol," Matt guessed, "The ones who have you pimping female inmates for their enjoyment is my guess."
Butz nodded grudgingly.
"You're quick," he said, "It was set up to reward these politicians and power brokers for their hard work."
"And to make you and Piser a pile of money and political favors," Matt finished, "Who's the kingpin behind all this?"
Suddenly, Butz pushed his desk against Matt, knocking him down. Matt fought to hold onto his gun as he fell on the floor. He thought Butz might come after him but instead, he simply took off out the door and down the corridor running as fast as his portly body could carry him. Matt sighed and sprung to his feet, taking off after him but the sheriff had gotten a head start. By the time Matt reached the front entrance, a squad car had pulled in front and Butz had jumped into it barking orders at the surprised deputy to take off. Matt stood and watched the car speed away and then went to call Dave.
Bunny cleaned up her wound the best she could with the rudimentary first aid kit she had discovered in the pantry. She wondered if it had gotten infected but all she could do at this point after cleaning it was to put some antibiotic ointment on and slap a bandage over it. She did that and then put on her jacket because it felt chilly again.
She went to the bathroom to wash her face before sitting back down on a couch in the living room. She felt marveled at how she felt comfortable in the cabin the minute she had stepped into it. A wave of happiness had swept through her after she crossed the threshold, but still no memories. Still, she had known about the cabin before actually seeing it, had found it without so much as a trail of bread crumbs and she knew that the times she spent inside it had been joyful ones even if she couldn't remember more than that. Somehow she didn't think she had been alone either during the times she had spent there. Who had she been with? She envisioned the man again, but she couldn't see his face and she found herself desperately wanting to know who he was. But she realized, she could only push her mind so far and what she received in response were only flickers of what might be memories but might also be wishful thinking.
Suddenly, the door opened and in walked Rhonda and Fran carrying some bags of groceries. They went to the kitchen and unloaded them.
"We stuck to basics like you said," Fran said, "but we got some extras too."
Rhonda brightened.
"Some steaks, potatoes and grape juice," she said.
Bunny's eyes narrowed as she picked it up the bottle.
"We couldn't buy liquor," Fran said, "We don't have our fake IDs yet. That's going to have to be our next order of business after we figure out where to get more money."
Rhonda looked around the place.
"Of course, we could hock some of the stuff here," she said, "and probably get a pretty penny for it."
Bunny shook her head.
"No, we shouldn't touch this stuff," she said, "It belongs to someone."
Fran rolled her eyes.
"But you don't even know who that is, do you?"
Bunny looked down.
"No I don't," she said, "But I feel like he's a nice guy and I don't want to rip him off."
Rhonda's eyes widened.
"Oh a guy," she said, "That sounds promising. What does he look like?"
Bunny frowned.
"I don't know," she said.
Fran shook her head and walked over to the back door to look outside.
"I see a barbecue," she said, "Let's cook the steak and potatoes out there."
Rhonda smiled.
"That will be great," she said, "I'll make a salad. What about you Bunny?"
Bunny shook her head.
"I'm not feeling very hungry," she said, "but I'll help with the steaks."
Matt hit the road again after calling Dave and explaining what had happened. Dave said he would put an APB out on Butz as a person of interest to his department but admitted it might not be tough to find him but tougher to find probable cause to bring him in.
"That's all I can promise you," Dave said, "the rest is going to take a lot more work."
"Thanks," Matt said.
"Where are you heading," Dave said.
"Back to the hotel," Matt said, "I've got to check in with the office for messages and I'll pick up the search again tomorrow."
"We'll see what we can dig up on any professionals coming into the state to do a job for Butz or whoever he's working with," Dave said, "But if the murders of those two women found today weren't random, then they're probably already in the area."
"And they're probably looking for the other women who escaped," Matt said, soberly.
"So now you're pretty sure that C.J. is in that group?"
"Her necklace was in Butz' office," Matt said, "The question is, what was she doing involved with these people?"
"You can ask her that when you find her," Dave said, "There has to be some good explanation."
"I know," Matt said, "I just can't think what it could possibly be but I know here and if she did get involved, it was against her will."
After they ate their dinner, they remained on the deck looking out at the lines of trees and listening to the noises of animals coming out at night. They poured the remaining Scotch that they had discovered in a cabinet into their glasses. For the first time since they escaped, they began to relax a little bit.
"It's nice out here," Rhonda said, "I've always loved the mountains."
"Not me," Fran said, "I'm a city girl."
"What about you Bunny?"
She looked at them suddenly.
"I don't know," she said, "I feel comfortable and safe here but I don't know why."
Rhonda took a sip of her Scotch.
"You still can't remember anything," she asked.
Bunny shook her head.
"Just when I think an image is coming to my mind close enough to grab it, it fades," she said.
"It'll come back," Rhonda said, "It always does whether you like it or not."
"I hope so," Bunny said, "I feel like I'm living someone else's life. Even if there's bad, it's got to be better than not knowing."
Fran scoffed.
"Don't be too sure about that," she said.
"I want my life back," Bunny said firmly.
"It still is your life," she said, "whether you remember any past one or not. Just take one day at a time like I do."
Rhonda folded her arms.
"All right, what was your life like before you got caught up with Butz," she asked, "was it all that great?"
Fran paused and took a sip of her drink.
"One bum rap after another," she said, "since I was a little girl."
"Yeah right," Rhonda said, "What did your parents do, throw you out?"
Fran looked up, a flicker of vulnerability showing up in her face.
"Actually they did," she said, "but that was a relief because they used to beat me all the time."
Bunny studied Fran and saw pain there for the first time.
"I'm sorry that happened to you," she said, "It must have been awful."
Fran's eyes turned hard again.
"How would you know," she said, "You have no experiences to compare it with."
Bunny remained silent.
"I do know what it's like to be abused by men," she said, "It didn't take me long to learn that."
Fran laughed derisively.
"Welcome to the real world," she said.
"Maybe not all people are like that," Bunny said, "if we give them a chance."
"Well, my motto is to stick it to them before they do it to you," she said, "and it's worked pretty well."
Rhonda laughed.
"My motto is not to get married again to another loser who raids my bank account and gets my car repossessed," she said.
"And say away from men altogether," Fran finished.
Bunny watched the two of them, knowing that their difficult lives had led them to where they were today but what had happened in her life? Was her life story similar to those of the other two women? She felt a chill pass through her at the thought. But she couldn't argue with their statements about men because she had yet to encounter a nice one during the few days of her life that she remembered. They had all viewed women as commodities to be bought, sold, used and abused. Was that the kind of world women lived in? And if so, what hope was there of any kind of life?
Fran turned to look at Bunny, her dark eyes unblinking.
"Has it ever occurred to you that maybe your life is so horrible that not remembering it might be a blessing," she said.
Bunny's heart sank at those words. She knew that Fran could be right. Still, wasn't it better knowing the truth than being left in some darkness void of memories? Most of the time Bunny felt like she sat in the bottom of a dark pit, with the only light a faint glimmer from the entrance way up above her.
"So what do you think of the few days that you do remember, Bunny," Fran asked.
Bunny just stroked the rim of her glass.
"Ask me in a few days," she responded before finishing the last of her Scotch.
Matt called in to the office and Chris told him that she hadn't heard from C.J. or anyone else about her whereabouts. He told Chris what he had discovered in Bannon County and that he might be staying there another day or so.
"Why would she be caught up with a group of female inmates," Chris had asked.
"I don't know," he answered, "Hopefully when I find her, I'll have the answers."
He ordered in and then turned in, wanting to get up at the crack of dawn to resume his search. Hopefully, the upcoming day would provide him with the opportunity to at least be closer to finding her before the wrong people did. He knew that she was resourceful enough to hide herself well if that was her objective but he also knew that it would only be a matter of time before the men who were pursuing the escaped women would find them. And with two of the women dead so far, that didn't bode very well for the rest of them. He had to find C.J. before they did, before it was too late. Visions of all the things that could have happened to her plagued his dreams.
Bunny snuggled on the couch, pulling a comforter closer around her. She felt chilled and curled up beneath it to try to get warm. The nights were cool in the mountains even during the summer but they didn't dare use the fireplace for fear of attracting attention. She had drifted off to sleep but it proved fitful. Visions of Piser and Butz kept filling her mind each time she managed to nod off. She knew that they were safe in the cabin at least for now but that eventually either the police or Butz' men would find them. And she didn't know which was worse. All she knew was that she didn't want to find out.
Matt sat on the edge of his bed and ate an omelet that he had ordered through room service, while thinking about his plans for the day. He knew now that Butz was dirty and had been running some illicit prostitution ring with Piser who had been found dead inside his burning house. Some other powerful players were involved and that a massive and ruthless cleanup was being conducted to cover up the illegal business. Two women were already dead. Would more of those who escaped be joining them by sundown? Would he find C.J. in time so she could avoid that fate if she had gotten tangled up with this criminal operation?
He still had no leads on where she. had gone if she had been one of the women fleeing from the ranch. The task of locating her would be daunting, like looking for a needle in a haystack. She could have fled in any one of a number of directions which would lead to every corner of the United States. Assuming of course, she still remained inside the country.
He started to pick up his things to leave the room, and then stopped by the phone. He needed to call Chris to see if any details had developed on her end.
"Hi Chris, this is Matt, have you heard anything," he asked.
"C.J. still hasn't called and no one's called about her," she said, "I think it's a long shot that I'll hear anything."
"I know Chris," he said, "But we need to keep all our options open in case she does call there."
"Okay," she said, "Oh, by the way, I did get one phone call but I don't think it's related."
"What was it," Matt asked, looking at his watch.
"A man called," Chris said, "I think it was Dr. Walker."
"Hmm, he owns the cabin closest to mine in the mountains," Matt said, thoughtfully.
"He said that he heard some noises coming from your place last night and that there was a car parked in front of it," Chris said, "He just called to check if you had some friends staying up there."
Matt wrinkled his forehead.
"No I don't," he said, "Maybe some kids found it and crashed there."
"Do you want me to send someone to check or call the local police?"
Matt thought about it. He wasn't sure why but a feeling crossed his mind that perhaps this was something he needed to deal with himself. Logically, he didn't feel like he could afford to take a side trip from where he was now, but a feeling nudged his gut that this was what he needed to do. And he never ignored his gut feelings.
"No, I'd better deal with it," he said, "before they trash the place. I'll tell you what. I'll fly back to L.A. today and check it out myself. I think I can leave the search out here for one day."
"Are you sure," Chris said, "the police…"
"I'll handle it," Matt said, "and the state police will handle its investigation here."
"Anything else," Chris asked.
"No thanks, I'm on my way," he said, hanging up the phone.
They all felt a bit hung over from the Scotch the next morning, but Bunny felt even worse. She had a throbbing headache and felt warm. When she stepped out of the shower, chills hit her suddenly and she shivered, reaching for a robe. What a time to come down with something, she thought. She changed into some clothes she found in the closet of one of the bedrooms and found some jeans that nearly fit along with a long-sleeved shirt that had "Harvard" printed on the front of it.
The other women laughed when they saw it.
"You don't exactly look like the Ivy League type," Fran mocked, "Let alone like anyone who's ever picked up a book."
"It's comfortable and it fits," Bunny said, "that's what matters. I've been wearing those other clothes for two days."
Fran shook her head.
"Still, we were whores two days ago," she said, "and wearing a shirt from a fancy smancy college isn't going to change that."
"Do you have to say that word," Rhonda said, "It's not like we had a choice."
"This time," Fran said, "But what about all the other times?"
Rhonda put her hands on her hips.
"I didn't do guys," she said, "at least not without ripping them off first."
Fran looked at Bunny.
"What about you," she said, "After all, that Piser guy took quite a shine to you before you knocked him out."
"I don't know," was all Bunny could say.
She sat down because her head was spinning and thought about what Fran had said, knowing she was probably right. The woman who this shirt belonged to was probably came from a much different world, hell probably a different universe than the three of them.
"So what are we going to do today," Fran said.
"We should lie low for a while," Bunny said, "There's no way for the cops or Buntz' men to track us here."
Rhonda nodded.
"That might be true," she said, "But we can't stay here forever so we've got to have a plan."
Fran shook her head.
"I've got a plan," she said, "and that's to head off on my own and try to get out of the country."
"How are you going to do that," Rhonda asked, "Trade in on your good looks?"
"I'll find a way," Fran said, "I'm sure as hell not going to wind up back in jail or dead."
"I think that's something we can all agree on," Bunny said, "So we've got to spend the next couple of days coming up with a plan that will save our necks and then put it into action."
Rhonda nodded.
"I'm with you," she said, "and Fran, if you go off on your own, you might just get away but they might kill you too."
Fran looked at her hands, not being able to come up with an argument against that. She decided to stay with the other women a little while longer.
"Okay, count me in," she said, finally.
Matt started driving up the mountain towards his cabin. He had called David before leaving Phoenix and told him about his conversation with Butz. The sergeant responded by saying they had put an APB out on the county sheriff but that he had eluded them. Dave also told him that the autopsy had shown that Piser had been dead before the fire had started but that the body was in such bad condition, it might be a while to determine a cause of death.
He thought about what he had learned in Arizona as he drove up the windy road, through groves of trees to one of his favorite spots in the world. The perfect getaway from the hectic world that he lived in most of the time. Matt thought the disturbance his neighbor had called him about were probably kids using his cabin to hang out but something pulled at his gut and that's what caused him to drop everything in his search for C.J. and come here.
He pulled up slowly in front of the cabin and saw the sedan parked in front. His eyes widened a bit when he saw the Arizona plates and he knew what he would find inside his cabin. He walked up to the door and unlocked it slowly with his key. He opened the door slowly and he saw them right away. Three women sitting in his living room having a conversation. Two of them he had never seen before but the one who wore the Harvard sweat shirt he had known since they were both kids.
The women turned their heads up to look at him, startled. Too surprised at his intrusion to move, as he approached them. They all looked at each other, watching any possible escape route being cut off.
"Must be the owner," Rhonda mumbled.
Fran rolled her eyes.
"You think?"
But despite his surprise at finding out that the intruders in his cabin were three women, he remained focused on one of them.
"C.J., what are you doing here," Matt asked.
He thought of all the different responses to that question that she could give him but what followed didn't even place on his list.
Bunny just looked at him, a puzzled look in her eyes.
"Who the hell are you?"