Dash paced the area in front of the car.
“Start her up,” Stan instructed. “And see if that engine light flashes back on.”
Eagerly, Dash climbed into the driver’s seat and turned the key. The engine roared to life, and Dash focused his attention on the dashboard. After a couple of seconds, his face broke into a smile and he gave Stan a thumbs-up.
“It looks like we’re good, then.” Stan patted the engine as if it were a well-behaved child.
“What did you do?” Dash wanted to know, as he climbed out of the car and left the engine running.
Ashley was curious herself. She hadn’t seen Stan do anything more than lower his head and supposedly listen to the car talk to him before twisting a couple of cables.
“She just needed to know she’s respected. Rental cars can be finicky, seeing that they have someone new behind the wheel every few days. She’s had to deal with quite a lot since the factory released her. She doesn’t feel she’s appreciated.” He lowered the hood and gave her a gentle pat.
Dash was about to blurt out something, but Ashley’s hand on his arm stopped him.
“How much do I owe you?” he asked, reaching for his wallet in his hip pocket.
Stan the Man held up both hands. “It’s on the house.”
“No, I insist.” Dash took out two large bills and stuffed them in the pocket of Stan’s coveralls.
“Not necessary, but I appreciate it,” Stan the Man said.
“You ready to go?” Dash asked, looking at Ashley.
“Oh sure.” On impulse, she hugged Stan. He was a character, and while it seemed unlikely that he had actually fathered an alien baby or could convince cars to give up their secrets, he was a likable guy.
They climbed into the car, but before Dash could close the door, Stan the Man stopped him. “You and your woman have a merry Christmas.”
“Thanks,” Ashley said, beaming him a smile.
Dash frowned. “She’s not my woman.”
Stan grinned, revealing a row of uneven, yellowing teeth. “Not yet, but something tells me she will be soon enough.”
“Something tells you?” Dash repeated. “You mean like that block of steel engine?”
Stan widened his eyes. “You need to be more sensitive, young man. That car’s got feelings.”
“Oh sorry,” Dash returned, and gently patted the steering wheel as if petting Little Blade.
Stan the Man stepped back as Dash backed out of the space in front of the garage.
“Was that not the weirdest guy you’ve ever met?” he asked, shaking his head as if he continued to find the entire encounter nothing short of bizarre.
“He was certainly entertaining.”
“He’s off his rocker.”
“You’re just jealous,” Ashley teased. “I saw that gleam in your eyes. You want one of those hot alien chicks for yourself.”
Dash snorted, mocking her. “No thanks. I’ve got all I can handle with you.”
With her? That was by far the most romantic thing he’d ever said to her.
Back on I-5, Dash glanced over at Ashley; actually, she’d noticed that he had a hard time keeping his eyes on the road. He seemed to be glancing at her more and more frequently. “What’s that secret little smile about?” he asked.
“I’m not smiling.” Just to be on the safe side, she tossed him a dour look.
“Now you’re not, but you were a few seconds ago.”
“I can smile if I want,” she insisted.
Little Blade whined from the backseat.
Motioning toward the backseat, he said, “See, even the dog agrees.”
“Men,” she clucked, shaking her head. “You all stick together. Why should it bother you when I smile? One would think you’d be happy that I’m happy.”
“It wasn’t that you were smiling, it was the way you were doing it…like you had this deep, dark secret and were intent on keeping it from me.”
“I can assure you I don’t have any nefarious secrets. I’m not a spy or an alien about to take you to my spaceship.”
He chuckled, apparently finding her amusing. “I should be so lucky.”
“Hey, you were singing a different tune just a few minutes ago.”
He seemed more relaxed now. “So you don’t want to explain that smile?” Dash questioned.
“All right, if you must know, I was thinking that maybe we should thank this car for getting us where we need to go. We’ll be in Seattle in plenty of time for you to make your interview.”
“Let’s hope.”
At the rate they were currently traveling, it wouldn’t be a problem. “Stan the Man was right. Being owned by a rental agency must be trying on a car. New drivers every other day, uncaring folks who drive recklessly and leave their empty fast-food bags scattered about. I bet she sees her share of spills, too.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he chided. “Cars don’t have feelings, no matter what Stan claims. And they don’t talk, either.”
Ashley could see that he was more amused than annoyed, although he did his best to pretend otherwise. She might have been fooled if she hadn’t noticed the edges of his mouth twitching to hold back a smile.
“Will you call me after the interview?” she asked, before she remembered that he no longer had a phone.
“Why?”
“So I can hear how it went. I know you want this job, and I’ll be anxious to hear how everything goes.”
“I would if I had a phone.”
“I know. I realized that right after I asked. Don’t you feel naked without it? I know I would, and mine, for now anyway, is just a flip phone.”
“Did you ask Santa for a smartphone?”
“Oh yes, top of my list. I’ve got a laptop…”
“With you?”
“No. If I brought it I knew I’d be constantly studying and fussing with email. This time away is a gift for both Mom and me, and I didn’t want to spoil it by getting caught up in classwork.”
“That’s thoughtful.”
She grinned. “I am capable of being a caring, compassionate woman, Dash. Don’t sound so surprised.”
He snorted. “I figured that much when you insisted on rescuing Little Blade.”
They continued driving and then curiosity got the better of her. “You want to tell me about the girl who dumped you?” she asked, as conversationally as she could manage.
“What? Who told you that?” He took his eyes off the road long enough to question her.
“You. Don’t you remember? You were fairly adamant that long-distance relationships don’t work. I have to assume this was someone you were involved with while you were in Afghanistan.”
“I don’t want to go there.”
She was curious, but decided to let it drop. “No problem, but it’s a shame.”
“What is? That I don’t want to get involved with you?”
She hesitated and then figured she had nothing to lose. “It’s more than that. I get the feeling you don’t want to get involved…period. It isn’t only me.”
He barked a laugh that didn’t hold any amusement. “Thank you, Dr. Phil.”
“You’re welcome.”
He turned her words back on her. “I seem to recall you telling me you weren’t willing to get involved, either. Something about concentrating on your studies and not having time, blah, blah, blah.”
“I lied.”
“You lied? You’re admitting you lied?”
“I felt I had to,” she confessed. “I mean, here you were, so eager to discount the kiss we’d shared. So what was I supposed to say? Your kiss was…wow. It was great, and then this morning you had to set matters straight by letting me know you didn’t want any distractions. Apparently, the kisses weren’t the same for you as they were for me, and so yes, I lied.”
Dash paused and then admitted in a low voice, “Okay, you’re right. I said I didn’t want to think about it, but I have nearly every minute since.”
“In other wo
rds, you lied, too.” Her smile was wide enough to cause her mouth to ache.
“I didn’t want to mislead you.”
That made no sense. “You didn’t want to mislead me, so you misled me?” She shook her head in an effort to make sense of that. “You’re confusing me.”
“I’m confused, too. This thing with us, if you can even call it a thing, came out of nowhere. When we met up at the airport I was convinced you were going to be a royal pain.”
“Me? Okay, to be fair, I wasn’t high on you, either.”
“I didn’t expect to like you or to feel this…connection, for lack of a better word. It’s like I got hit between the eyes, and it couldn’t happen at a worse time.”
Ashley knew how he felt.
“I want this job, Ash, and this is the worst time possible for me to be distracted.”
“And I’m a distraction.” She knew it was true. He should be mentally preparing himself for this interview.
“Yes. If I get this job, which I want and need, it’ll basically put me in the same situation as before, and I don’t do long-distance relationships.”
“And if you don’t get it…”
“If I don’t get the job, I’ve got to start over with no guarantees that I’ll continue to live in the Bay Area. I’d like to see you again…”
“I’d like to see you, too. Instead of fretting about this now, why don’t we wait until after the interview?”
He agreed, and reaching over, he grasped her hand, squeezing her fingers. It was hard to describe the emotions Ashley felt at his touch. Neither of them had been expecting this. The timing was all wrong for him and for her. Still, she couldn’t imagine not seeing Dash after this trip, and she hoped he felt the same.
“Can we talk about something else now?” he asked.
“Sure. Looks pretty out there.”
He relaxed. “Actually, it’s overcast, and I heard there’s a chance of snow around the Portland area.”
“Kids will love that. You like kids, don’t you?”
He shrugged. “As long as they’re someone else’s.”
“You don’t want children?” she asked, and then realized she might be broaching a taboo subject. Quickly, she held up both hands and, pretending to be horrified, added, “Don’t answer that.”
“Why not?”
“I was trying to not talk about anything personal, you know, to distract you.”
“Some questions I don’t mind answering. As for you wanting to know about me and having kids, the answer is yes, I’d like a couple of kids someday.”
“Just not in the foreseeable future.”
“Right. Satisfied?”
“Yes.” They were riding in a companionable silence when Ashley noticed she was hungry. In fact, she was famished. The only thing she’d had to eat or drink all day was the cup of coffee Dash had brought her early that morning.
“Can we stop for food? I’m starving.” It all became clear to her then. “That explains it,” she said righteously.
“Explains what?”
“Why you’re…preoccupied.” She didn’t want to say he was cranky, because he wasn’t. “You get that way when you’re hungry. Remember yesterday when I fed you my protein bar?”
“I am not testy.”
“True, but you’ll do better on the interview if you’ve eaten properly.”
“The interview isn’t until later.”
“I know that,” she countered. “Besides, Little Blade needs a potty break.” She did as well, but she wasn’t about to make a point of it. There were certain personal subjects she would prefer to avoid.
“Okay, fine. But let’s make it fast food. I want to get into Seattle as quickly as I can.”
“Whatever you want.”
He frowned. “I worry when you get overly accommodating. It’s like when a woman says, ‘Correct me if I’m wrong…’ Trust me, most men know never to make that mistake. It’s a trap.”
Ashley was not amused. “You have a low opinion of women.”
He grinned. “As a matter of fact, I don’t. I happen to like you—for the most part, anyway.”
“You did it again.”
“Did what?”
“You criticize me in what should be a compliment.”
Dash frowned.
“What’s that saying…damning me with faint praise? Sounds like something Shakespeare wrote, but I don’t think he did.”
“How was I criticizing you?” He seemed genuinely curious.
“You mean you honestly don’t know? You just said that for the most part you liked me, which implies there are certain parts of me you find irritating.”
“You mean to say you don’t find me irritating at times?”
“More so every minute,” she said with a snicker.
“Now look who’s cranky. There’s an exit coming up. McDonald’s, Burger King, KFC. The choice is yours.”
“Any of those is fine.”
“Oh no, I’m not falling for that. The minute I pick one, you’ll want the other.”
“That is so not true.”
“All right, Burger King.”
She smiled as if the sun set and rose on his choice. “Perfect.”
Dash took the exit and followed the signs leading to a long row of fast-food establishments. Thankfully, they’d already made their decision, because there were a dozen others just as close.
The Burger King was on the right-hand side, and Dash was able to turn in to a long line of cars queuing up for the drive-through. Without her even asking, Dash ordered a hamburger patty for Little Blade.
“That was thoughtful.” He’d surprised and impressed her.
“I can be thoughtful.”
“I know.” When it came their turn, Dash insisted on paying. They parked in the lot and Dash turned off the engine. “We can eat inside if you want.”
“No, it’s fine.” She didn’t want to leave Little Blade in the car alone. Between bites of her burger, she tore off small bits of meat to feed to the puppy, who gobbled it up fast and licked her fingers, seeking more.
After a restroom break, Dash collected their garbage. He got out of the car and emptied their wrappers into the trash can.
“I think I’m losing it,” he said when he returned.
“How so?” She wasn’t clear on what he meant.
“I didn’t want to hurt the car’s feelings, so I got rid of the trash instead of leaving it in the car.”
Ashley smiled.
In response, he reached for her by the shoulders, pulling her toward him, and gave her an open-mouthed kiss that left her dizzy and warm and utterly stunned. And utterly happy.
The frustration was killing Agent Jordan Wilkes. He was close to making the biggest capture of his career and once again had been thwarted by one of the cleverest criminal masterminds he’d encountered in his thirty-year time with the bureau. It was no wonder Ashley Davison had eluded the law these last two years. Capturing her would be the pinnacle of his career with the FBI.
“What now?” Agent Buckley asked.
“We wait,” Wilkes told the younger agent. Patience was a key virtue when it came to being an agent, and it often paid big dividends. Agent Buckley would learn that lesson soon enough, if he remained in the agency.
“How long should we wait?”
“However long it takes.” Crime knew no holiday. Wilkes couldn’t remember the last Christmas he’d spent with his wife and family. But if sacrificing Christmas gave him the opportunity to aprehend Ashley Davison, then it would be worth it. He wanted this woman’s capture on his record, and he wanted it badly.
As he knew it would, his cell buzzed. “Wilkes,” he answered, doing his best to hide his eagerness to hear the latest update.
The disembodied voice came fast and furious over the line: “An Oregon state patrolman pulled them over.”
“Where?”
“Outside of Ashland.”
“Tell him to keep them in custody until we get there. Call in backup
; I don’t want to take a chance of letting Davison slip through our fingers again.”
After a slight pause, the agent on the other end of the line continued: “He let them go.”
“What? How in the hell did that happen?”
“This was before we realized they’d switched license plates. It was the same year and model in the bulletin. That was what caught his attention, but the plates were different.”
“Why’d he pull them over?” The officer must have had a reason. The bulletin that had gone out to law enforcement agencies said to look for a woman holding a man hostage.
“He pulled them over for expired tabs.”
So Davison wasn’t as clever as she thought. If she was going to exchange license plates, she should have noticed the one she switched had outdated tabs. This was just the break Wilkes was looking for. “I want to interview the officer.”
“I have him right here.”
A short pause followed. “This is Officer Jamison.”
“Yes, Officer, thank you.” Wilkes looked toward his partner and nodded, indicating they weren’t about to give up yet. His gut had told him Davison was close.
“I stopped the vehicle at Milepost 431 for expired tabs.”
“You saw the photo of Dashiell Sutherland and identified him?”
“I did,” the state patrolman verified. “I wasn’t able to positively identify the woman from the photo.”
That was understandable, seeing how clever Davison had been about hiding her identity. The woman was a tease. She got her jollies from thwarting law enforcement. But her time was running out…sands through an hourglass.
“Was the woman driving?” Wilkes asked.
“No, the man was.”
It made sense that she’d force Sutherland to take the wheel. “What kind of vibe did you get from him?”
“Vibe?”
“Did he show signs of stress? Did he appear overly nervous?” Wilkes asked, hoping to get something that would help in Davison’s ultimate capture.
“Not really,” the patrolman answered. “All drivers show signs of stress when pulled over.”
“Did you detect anything suspicious or out of the ordinary?” he asked next.
“No…”
“What is it, man?” Wilkes demanded, sensing the patrol officer wanted to tell him something more.
Dashing Through the Snow Page 11
