"Have you thought about witness protection? Maybe it's still on the table-"
Annie shook her head before Walt finished his thought. "No. He'll still find me. He's that good."
Ferg wasn't crazy about losing her to the feds and was glad she had tabled that. Although if it kept her safe . . . "It could buy us some time to find him-"
She glanced up at him, her face still pale, but at least the spark was back in her eyes. "I said no. I'm not running again. I can't run from him anymore."
"She's right, you know," Vic said, propping her hip on the edge of her desk. "If he's crazy enough to track her all the way out here, he's crazy enough for anything."
"So what do we do now?" Branch asked.
"I can't hide from him forever, or he wins." Annie's voice was quiet, but her words were steady.
Ferg was good with hiding. As long as she was safe.
She glanced at all of them. "I want to thank all of you. I know you've been running patrols past Ferg's for the past few days. You don't have enough manpower for that, but I really appreciate it." She reached up and linked her hand with Ferg's. "But, you have other people to protect. And I have to go back to work-"
"No! You can't!" Ferg protested.
She smiled sadly up at him, and Ferg was once again struck by how pale she looked. In fact, just this morning, he heard her throwing up again. She claimed she was fine, it was just a virus, but he wasn't so sure.
"You can't keep me in a bubble forever."
"I can sure as hell try."
She leaned her head on his arm before looking at the rest of them. "I have an idea. And I know it may not be well-received, but it's the only way I can think of to get out of this mess. I've thought about it a lot, and I wish it was different but . . ."
Ferg knew he wasn't going to like anything she said at this point.
"I need to continue on as normal. Life as usual. He knows me by now. My patterns." She looked at all of them. "He'll try again. I know he will. Maybe not now, but soon. He was never big on patience. If I let myself be dangled in front of him like a prize . . ."
Ferg jerked his hand out of her grip, floored by what she was saying. "No! Absolutely not! I won't . . . I won't have it!"
"But, Junior will have it any way he wants, no matter what you want," Branch pointed out calmly.
Ferg got down on eye level with her, his words tinged with desperation. "Listen to me. There's another way. There's got to be. I'm not going to have you put in danger like that."
She smiled sadly at him, putting her hand on his cheek despite their audience. "Branch is right. Junior has set the rules, and if we want to catch him – to get him out of our lives – we've got to flush him out. And I'm the bait. I have to be."
Ferg was shaking his head before she was finished. "I almost lost you playing this same game before, and I'm not going to allow it again. I'll send you to Alaska before I'd use you as . . . bait." He said it like it was the most distasteful word in the English language.
"He'll find me there, too. Or the moon. It doesn't matter. I won't be able to sleep at night until he is put away for good this time," her words were calm, but her eyes bored into his with an intensity that made him look away.
She'd already made her mind up.
And Ferg silently made up his - he wasn't going to let Junior go back to prison. He'd put him away for good. Six feet under.
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Mind-numbing exhaustion had been Annie's best friend these last two weeks. They'd tried every scenario they could think of: broke down on the side of the road. Home at Vic's 'alone.' Going shopping in Billings. Always with a tail. Always with someone close by.
Nothing. Not a trace.
It was frustrating because she knew he was out there. Waiting. Watching.
She'd kept working at the garage and Henry's. Fred had been apprised of the situation, and he'd taken to sporting a sidearm while he was at work. Vic had even given her a little .22 and made her practice with it. She kept it in a holster in the small of her back. It helped her feel better. A little.
Ferg didn't like any of this, even with the tails planted on her. He kept pointing out Junior wouldn't fall for it, and he was right.
Junior was smarter than that. He was waiting for their guard to be put down. Then, he'd pounce.
Her stomach rumbled, and she fought nausea again.
It was stress. Worry. Who wouldn't be after being attacked in what you thought was the safety of your own home. She couldn't eat, either, just the thought of it making her want to puke. She did that often, too.
Junior was making her life a living hell without actually being in it.
Oh, but he was out there. Somewhere.
Vic sauntered into her room and tossed a bag on her bed. "Here."
Annie sat up, dizzy, and gave it a moment to pass. She reached for the bag. "I told you, it's just a bug. I don't need any medicine-"
She stopped when she saw what was inside.
A pregnancy test.
She glanced up at Vic, who was watching her steadily, her arms crossed. "Are you serious?"
"I'm as fucking serious as I've ever been."
For a moment, Annie's eyes swam.
Nope . . . not possible . . .
Frantically, she thought back, counting.
Oh . . .
Not now. Not when Junior was waiting. Waiting to kill her.
Bile rising in her throat, she barely made it to the bathroom before she threw up.
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She stared at the innocent-looking white test as she sat on the toilet seat, the two lines mocking her.
"Maybe it's a false positive," she said meekly.
"Fat chance," Vic said sensibly from the bathroom doorway. "You, my dear, are officially knocked up."
Annie couldn't help the small twinge of happiness that threatened to bubble over. For a moment, she imagined herself with a little boy or girl, playing with them, feeding them, rocking them to sleep.
Ferg was going to make a great father.
Vic interrupted her happy little inner monologue. "You've got to tell him-"
"No! Not until this is over." She hadn't had enough time to think this through, but she knew that much was true.
Vic's jaw dropped open. "That's the stupidest fucking thing I've ever heard! You just-"
Annie looked at the other woman, her voice calmer than she felt. "If I tell Ferg, he's going to put me under lock and key. It'll delay the inevitable, Vic, and you know it. I-I can't worry about just me now. If I wait and have this baby, Junior will pop up down the road and kill this child and make me watch." Tears sprung into her eyes at the thought. "Then, he'll kill me."
Not as long as there is breath in my body, she promised her unborn child.
Vic glared at her, then threw up her hands. "Fuck! I don't know why the two of you just couldn't use a condom or something!"
"Well . . . we did. Sometimes. . ."
Vic's intense gaze settled on her. "I'm telling him if you won't-"
Annie jumped up and grabbed her arm to make her pay attention. "Listen to me, Vic. My entire life, I've only thought of me. That's why I got involved with Junior to begin with. Because it felt good at the time. But now, I've got to think of someone else. Actually, two someones – Ferg and this baby. And Junior has to go if any of it will work."
Vic glared at her, then yanked her arm out of Annie's grasp. "I don't want to be you if you have to explain yourself to him when this is over."
Annie stared at the test for a long time, hoping she was doing the right thing.
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It was hard not to blurt it out the next time she saw him. But, she didn't.
She wondered if he would be excited or scared. Or both, like she was.
A baby. She was going to bring a life into this world . . .
But, with the dark cloud that was Junior still hanging over her, she kept her mouth shut.
They stopped with the fake scenarios. It wasn't working. He wasn't going to fall for it.
That didn't mean he still wasn't out there. It would be when she was the least protected.
She was rarely by herself. Someone always escorted her to and from work – even if it was Ruby. Junior was less likely to mess with her if he knew he couldn't get away scot free. Plus, Ruby wielded a rather mean-looking .45 in her purse. She wouldn't be a pushover, that's for sure.
Annie wasn't sure how long this was going to take. Part of her wished Junior would get it over with, so she could go on with her life.
If he didn't win.
But, she couldn't think like that.
Before too long, she'd have to tell Ferg about this baby. Only eight weeks along, according to the doctor she had secretly seen, Vic in tow. After a couple more weeks, she'd start to show.
Annie knew she couldn't wait that long to tell him.
And she hadn't realized how much she didn't know about pregnancy until all the questions started popping in her head. She took vitamins. She made herself eat. She also found out that working at the garage probably wasn't the best thing for her. Feigning a back injury, she had Fred doing a lot of the heavy lifting, but that couldn't last forever, either.
Damn Junior!
One Saturday, she found herself with the entire day off. And glad for it, so she could sleep.
Ferg was working that day, so she knew she'd be stuck in his house all day long. She'd taken to staying there most of the time. He had installed a security system – despite the fact she told him Junior could easily get around them. She was also pretty sure there were high-velocity hunting cameras all around the house, thanks to Omar. They were so well-hidden, she couldn't even see them.
It made staying by herself a little easier.
She had gotten up with Ferg and made him breakfast, fighting nausea by nibbling on a piece of toast. After swearing up and down she wouldn't leave the house for any reason, he kissed her good-bye, set the alarm and left.
Annie couldn't help but feel like an animal in a cage. But, it was for the best. Ferg was trying to protect her, and whether he knew it or not, his unborn child.
Sighing, she set to work cleaning the kitchen after the sound of his engine died away.
She thought she saw movement outside, but it was sunny and breezy today, the wind blowing what was left of the leaves across the snow-strewn ground. Could have been a squirrel. Or anything.
Scaredy-cat. That's what I've become.
Shaking her head, she resumed doing dishes.
There was a noise from the backdoor, the alarm bleating in protest as it creaked open.
Annie wiped her hands on a dishtowel. "Ferg? Did you forget something-"
It hit her that she hadn't heard his car return up the driveway.
Frozen in place, her heart hammering in her throat, she realized this was it.
He's here. He's found me. Been watching, waiting patiently . . .
She ducked behind the counter and crawled towards the front door.
Her cell phone.
Frantically, she reached for it.
She didn't have it. It was upstairs charging.
She did have something, though.
The .22 in the small of her back.
She didn't pull it. She wasn't sure where he was. She may need that card later.
Instead, she snuck towards the front door, heart pounding. The alarm suddenly went quiet, her ears ringing with the silence.
She paused when she heard his voice. "Come out, come out wherever you are!"
It made her skin crawl.
One thought kept going through her mind.
I can't run . . . I can't run . . . I can't run. . .
If she ran, he'd try again. And again and again. Until he won.
It was time to stop him. Now. No matter if her inner self told her to hide, protect herself.
She just wished she had her phone with her. It would be a whole hell of a lot easier to do it with help.
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Junior figured if he jimmied the lock just after that deputy left for work, he'd have all day to play with her. Toy with her. Torture her before they realized she was gone.
Then, he'd kill her. Maybe leave her where her deputy boyfriend was sure to find her.
It had been amusing to watch them try to flush him out. He'd been there. He wasn't going to be caught by a bunch of local yokels, that was for sure.
His adrenaline pumping with excitement, he heard her call out, then stop. Everything was quiet.
He couldn't help but grin.
She knew.
It would make it more interesting.
Almost as an afterthought, he reached out and yanked the face off the keypad of the alarm system, cutting a few wires inside of it.
It went silent.
He folded his knife and stuck it back in his pocket, listening for a moment.
He thought he heard shuffling towards the front of the house and headed that way. He was wearing thick leather gloves – she wasn't going to pull that same biting stunt again. His hands twitched, anxious to get his hands wrapped around her throat. . . to have her beg for her life . . .
He felt himself getting hard just thinking about it.
"Come out, come out where ever you are." His voice had a sing-song quality to it.
He crept forward through the kitchen. "I know you're here. I saw your boyfriend leave. It's just you and me, baby cakes!"
Shuffling. He thought it was towards the front of the house. He changed direction.
She was headed towards the front door. He picked up the pace, not concerned about her getting away.
She wouldn't get far.
"You leave this house, and I'll wait right here. Until he gets home. Expecting to find you here playing housewife, you stupid whore. Then, I'll kill him instead."
That was a new idea that hit him, but he found he liked it.
He heard something behind him and whirled around. She was standing there, a little .22 pointed right at him, wavering just a little as her hands shook.
He grinned, not feeling at all threatened. "Oh, so your little cop boyfriend taught you how to shoot. How convenient. How . . ."
When she pulled the trigger, he ducked, diving behind the couch. The shot ricocheted off the fireplace.
More shuffling. Another shot that embedded itself into the couch cushions.
He grinned. Just get her to use all the bullets. That's all he had to do. A novice mistake.
"Maybe I'll wait for him to get home even with you here. Slit his throat and make you watch. Wouldn't that be fun?"
Another shot imbedded itself in the hardwood floor. She had moved. This time, it was from his left. He scooted around to the side of the couch, listening.
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Annie knew she was wasting bullets. But, he kept talking, kept telling her what he would do to her. To Ferg.
I can't let that happen . . . I've got to kill him myself.
Frustrated beyond belief, she tried to get closer, but with little training and only desperation on her side, she knew she was grasping at straws. Fleetingly, she thought of dashing upstairs to her cell phone, but then she wouldn't have an exit if he went after her. She'd be trapped.
"You stupid bitch. How could you think you could have a normal life after what you did to me? I could disappear now and pop back up six months, a year, five years from now, you know. Kill every single one of the children I know you want to have with this fucker. Make you watch. Wouldn't that be nice?
Exactly what she knew he'd do.
Running on adrenaline and instinct, she emptied the rest of the bullets into the couch until the chamber was empty. Tossing it aside, she sprinted towards the door.
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Ferg hated leaving her alone. Hated. It. In fact, he was tired of all of this.
But, what could they do but try their best?
Out of habit, he checked his phone when he pulled up to the courthouse, opening the app where the pictures from the hunting cameras were sent automatically. He installed them on a whim, especially after Omar offered. Most of the time, there were pictures of squirrels and deer. Sometimes, there was nothing at all, only the wind blowing leaves in front of the camera.
His finger paused on one.
It looked like . . . a foot.
Quickly, he scrolled to the next one.
Definitely a person. Creeping up to the front door.
Holy shit!
Desperately, he checked the time.
Nine minutes ago.
He may already be too late.
His phone rang as he started his car with a roar, slamming it into gear and stomping on the gas. He answered it without thinking.
"Mr. Ferguson, this is Life Shield. Your home alarm was activated five minutes ago, but it stopped. The code was not entered."
Shit, shit, shit!
"Call 911. Tell them to get out there immediately. There's someone in the house." He ended the call without waiting for a response, and quickly dialed another number, hands shaking as he tried to keep one eye on the road, praying he was at his desk.
"Walt? He's in the house."