Free No Time to Hide by Karen Troxel

to headquarters. They’ve probably got squads out everywhere looking for us now.”
    “Won’t Dom be able to track them tracking us?” Kerry asked.
    “That’s always a concern with a big manhunt, but most of the squads will be strictly for show. They’ll be around the cabin going through evidence, searching for bodies. They’ll let the local law enforcement do their turn, mugging it up for the media and stuff.”
    “The media, that’s good. Dom hates the media.”
    “Yeah, it can be useful sometimes. Of course, most of the game now is disinformation. We want to lead the media and Dom to the conclusions we want them to have. But your ex-pals are experts at this game. They won’t be fooled by a little public relations mumbo-jumbo.”
    Some of Kerry’s euphoria faded. “That’s right. The helicopter did see us driving away.”
    “Yes. But don’t worry. I’ve been a marshal for fifteen years. I know procedure, and the book says when things go bad to follow the steps we are taking. Mostly, my boss will wait until I contact him before trying to make contact with us. Right now, they’re busy lining up your new ID.”
    Kerry rocked and nodded until she nearly rapped her head on the car’s sun visor. She bit her lip and tried to control the outward sign of stress.
    “That’s good,” she said, then lapsed into silence as she tried to get the picture of the cabin exploding out of her mind. “The quicker everything is set up and I can get out of here, the better.”
    Kerry bit the inside of her lip to keep the tears from flowing. She was so tired of this, so tired of the running. Sometimes she wished she’d never agreed to testify against Dom. But after her father had been murdered, after she’d heard Dom discuss it, she hadn’t had a choice. At least, she hadn’t thought she had a choice then. Now, not for the first time in the last year, she wondered if she wouldn’t have been more successful running away.
    ***
    Saturday, 7:00 P.M.
    “Mr. Giancarlo?”
    Dom looked up slowly. He had left strict orders not to be disturbed. He really needed to crack down on the discipline here. He sighed. Well, you had to work with what was available, especially when incarcerated.
    “I told you not to disturb me for thirty minutes.” He glared at the imbecile who had dared to risk his wrath. The man was Little Billy Joe Hacksaw. He had the brain of a fly and the size of a giant, which was the source of humor behind his nickname. He also had a childlike desire to please his superiors, no matter what they asked of him. Dom tamped down on his anger. No use going for the psychological discipline. It would go right over Billy Joe’s head. “What is it?”
    “I’m sorry to bother your thinking time, sir, but one of the guards passed me this note for you. I was out on my exercise period.”
    Dom shook his head. Billy Joe was like an overenthusiastic puppy now—an overenthusiastic mutt, that is.
    “Give me the message.”
    Billy Joe handed Dom the wrinkled and stained sheet of paper. He scanned it, then crumpled it into a ball.
    “This is completely unacceptable,” he raged. He turned and kicked the wastebasket sitting beside his bed. “How is it one simple task cannot be completed?”
    Dom felt the rage almost engulf him, but managed to pull it back when he saw the haze of red fogging his vision. He looked at his hands, which were inexplicably wrapped around Billy Joe’s throat, with his thumbs pressing into the man’s carotid artery. He looked down at the previously unnoticed scratches on his hands and arms where Billy Joe had tried to get away. Now the idiot had passed out from the pressure. Dom shook his head and looked at the crowd of inmates now surrounding the open door of his cell.
    He let Billy Joe drop to the floor and adjusted his prison uniform shirt. “Please take him back to his cell.”
    “Is he dead?” one of the prisoners asked.
    “What? No. I don’t think so. But you’d better tell the guards to