You Can’t Run
Hope E. Davis
Copyright © 2021 Hope E. Davis
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 9798729341399
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Denver, and La Junta, Colorado are real cities. However, all portrayals of either city are completely fictionalized.
For my grandmother Marla,
Thanks for always being my biggest fan.
And for Taylor Largusa
Thanks for talking me down off a ledge.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Cover by Victoria Cooper
Edited by K. Joyce
PROLOGUE
MARK
He pulled up in front of a dark multiple story condominium, glancing down at the phone in his hand to make sure he had the right address before putting his car into park.
It didn’t look like anyone was awake at this hour, but as a precaution he straightened the collar around his neck and glanced in the mirror to make sure his hair was slicked back. Even though the darkness was on his side right now, the sun would be rising soon. He reached into the backseat and slid his black duffel bag over his shoulder. The clothing and computer in the bag were all he owned now. He had sold everything else to begin his new life.
Quietly, he walked up to the front door of the building, checking the rental app to find the check-in instructions. He had specifically chosen this rental because of the self check-in. He didn’t want the hassle of dealing with people.
He typed in the number on the security pad to unlock the door, and stepped in while quietly closing it. The hallway was quiet, all the wooden doors were closed and the old light bulb buzzing above his head was the only sound. Directly in front of him was a rickety old silver elevator that didn’t look like it could possibly work, to his left was a staircase. He chose to take the stairs.
Mark made his way to the third floor where he double checked the check in instructions once more. He turned to his right to find door 310 to be directly next to the staircase. He would have rather had a room at the end of the hall, but this would do.
He opened the lockbox next to the door with the code the landlord had provided. Two silver keys fell into his hand. He slid the first in the lock and swung the door open.
The apartment wasn’t much, just a studio in the center of the city. It was modest, containing only a bedroom and cramped kitchen, but that was all he needed.
He set his duffel bag on the queen bed and crossed the room over to the window which overlooked the street. He didn’t turn on any lights.
Mark looked at the empty street, lit only by an occasional street lamp. He grinned as a young copper haired woman emerged from around the corner and jogged nimbly past his window. He looked at his watch. She is up early, which probably meant she has a family she has to get up and ready to go at home. It’s crazy how predictable people are.
Mark slides his window open, grinning as it opens without a squeak or shutter. This would indeed suit him well. He sticks his head out briefly into the dawn air and looks up and down the street.
The location of the apartment was perfect, now he could start his work.
Mark reluctantly turned away from the window and back to his duffel bag on the bed. He unzipped the side pocket and pulled out the new passport and driver’s license he had purchased. He grinned as he regarded his face next to the new name he had chosen,, he pulled a box of hair dye from his bag and headed into the bathroom to begin his transformation.
No one here will know him. No one will recognize him. He will be a new man.
And he will be free to put his plan into action.
Mark will officially be gone.
CHAPTER 1
NAYA
She took a deep breath as she slowly opened her car door and placed one foot on the cement outside. The fresh autumn air came rushing into the car, breaking the cocoon of warmth she had created for herself. She pinched her eyes shut quickly, taking in one more deep breath before she stood.
This was it, her first day at her new job.
Naya leaned her head back against the headrest of her drivers seat and looked up at the large brown office building in front of her, then turned to the backseat of her car to grab the cardboard box which contained all her things. It didn’t hold much, just a photo for her desk, some favorite pens and a few manila file folders of cold cases she had been unable to solve but couldn’t let go.
She had been the Sheriff of La Junta, a small town in the south east corner of Colorado. Assuming the title of Sheriff after her father, the previous Sheriff, retired. She had honestly planned to stay there forever, but her brother who lived in Denver had found out he had cancer, and Naya had immediately requested a transfer.
Being a detective in Denver was going to be much different than her job as sheriff in her humble home town. She had already gotten lost three times this morning on her way to the office, which had done quite a number on her already disheveled nerves. She was a small-town girl at heart
