Hitch

by Anne Conley

  “Right. So we’re just here waiting for him, and we’ll take my car since it doesn’t have cop emblazoned down the side of it.”

  “I can’t use a civilian car in a potential surveillance situation!” Images of him holding onto his bulge in a death grip while he stroked it slowly, hissing air through pursed lips, dissipated in the twisting of her gut at his words. Amber had a hard time keeping her voice down with her surprise at his gall.

  “Seriously?” The arched eyebrow he turned on her almost made her give in without much argument, but she had to say something.

  “If we find something we want to admit in a court of law, we have rules to go by. You have to know this.” She was whisper-shouting in the crowded lobby, but the smirk on his lips made her realize he was going to do what he wanted, whether she liked it or not.

  “I do, but my current situation is a little bit different from yours. I’m working a case. You followed me here, remember? We can work around this. Without taking your car.”

  It would be like flying blind. No lights available. No sirens. No radio to contact the required jurisdictional authorities. Every fiber of her being protested this.

  “We can’t.” It would be a nightmare.

  “We will.” He leaned back as if the conversation were over, perusing his magazine like he didn’t have a care in the world.

  If Nguyen found out, they were going to be so screwed. Hell, if anyone found out, she’d be out of a job so fast her head would spin. But he had a point. If Perkins realized he was being followed by an APD car, he’d disappear, or they’d have a full-on police chase on their hands. Amber was already breaking rules. What was one more? It wasn’t like anyone was giving her any leeway to make sensible decisions.

  She looked at her lap and muttered, “Fine.”

  Dex slumped down on the lobby couch and wrapped his arm around Amber, tugging her closer to him. He smelled amazing, and Amber caught herself unabashedly sniffing him to fill her senses with the scent of his manliness.

  “How’s your cat?” he murmured in her ear, like a lover.

  The contradiction between his tone and his words threw her for a loop, but Amber managed a recovery of sorts as she answered. “Uh, Salem’s fine. He has a pet door and an automatic feeder. He’s used to me not being around much. Pretty self-sufficient.”

  “He getting used to his new home?” She looked up at Dex’s eyes to see if she was imagining the double meaning behind his words. Was he talking about her or her cat?

  “Sort of. He seems to like the new place but hasn’t totally gotten used to things yet. Neither one of us has ever lived anywhere besides Serendipity, and he’s used to having an old barn to prowl around in. So he’s taking a while to adjust to citification.” She pretty much summed up both of them, so Dex could take it whatever way he wanted to.

  She shuttered her expression, hoping he would get the picture. Amber didn’t want to discuss her past. Everything with Dex was too new, too raw, and she had no idea where it would lead. In her experience, information was a hot commodity, and whoever had the information had the power. She wouldn’t give Dex more power over her by giving him information about her past. Not yet.

  He got the picture, having opened his mouth to ask more but snapping it shut as he saw the look she threw him.

  “Do you think the weather will cooperate today?” he asked instead, and she settled back against him.

  They made small talk for a couple of hours while they waited for Perkins to show up and lead them to wherever he was meeting the other man. Amber put all thoughts of the potential waste of time this could end up being out of her head. That was the nature of surveillance anyway, and a part of her job. That’s what this was. A job.

  While she canoodled and made small talk with Dex Hollerman. Sure.

  Perkins came out of the lobby elevator just as she was pointing to a picture of some shopping district downtown. Dressed in a camouflaged insulated shirt, camo pants, and a fur-lined camo hat, he looked like he was doing some hunting. Snapping off a discreet picture with her phone before tucking it into her pocket, she picked up the tourist magazine to hide behind.

  Dex remained casual even as she stiffened. Loud enough for anyone listening to hear, he said, “You figure out where we’re going, doll face, and I’ll bring the car around.”

  He sauntered toward the door, long strides eating up the patterned carpet, his fine frame making her insides do a little happy dance. This man wanted her and hadn’t hidden the fact from anyone, not since he met her. Amber needed to figure out what to do about him. Because, sure as shit, she was getting into trouble with him.

  Perkins had a bag in his hand as he strode out the front door and stood in line for the valet drivers to bring around his car. Good thing, because Dex wasn’t back yet. She cursed the hustle in the valet drivers’ steps as they ran to and fro grabbing tickets and bringing cars around.

  Perkins handed off his ticket, and Amber estimated Dex had about two minutes to bring the car around. When she saw his Tahoe pull up to the curb, Perkins still didn’t have his car, so she ambled out to where Dex sat patiently, his hand on the back of her seat like he was awaiting her arrival.

  Amber got into the SUV, and Dex said, “That’s him, right there?” She nodded, even though he had to know that was Perkins, and he pulled her in by the back of the neck for a toe-curling kiss. He leisurely stroked her tongue with his, exploring the insides of her mouth while they waited for Perkins to get his car. Finally, after she’d nearly lost her mind, he detached himself from her, ignoring the impatient honk behind them, and winked at her. “I do believe this is the most fun I’ve ever had on a surveillance gig.”

  She couldn’t agree because her words weren’t working. But she saw a small, boxy car impatiently maneuver around them, and Dex put the vehicle in gear. “Showtime. Let’s find out where these cats are meeting.”

  Amber was impressed with the way Dex handled the Tahoe. He drove it like a professional; as a police academy graduate, she was fully aware at how skilled the drivers had to be.

  “The hunting garb has me puzzled,” Dex said, breaking the silence. “Why do you suppose he’s wearing that?”

  She chewed on a hangnail while she thought. “The last bullet that hit the Tannerite was a .243, and that’s what’s been used for the last two explosions. The ones before that were a 30-06. Hunting rifles?”

  “Those are hunting calibers. Mid- to long-range shots,” he ruminated. “Did the ballistics turn up anything?”

  “No. You know rifles. They could be Grandpa’s or something. They’re not usually traceable, especially if they’re not inventoried from a previous crime. We need the actual gun to do a test fire from and see if it matches.”

  “Yeah.” They were going toward the north part of town, up the freeway that led to Oklahoma. She didn’t like not knowing, even though that was part of the job. They had to figure out what was going on, but the unknown, as they headed north, still gnawed at her.

  “Did you run a background on Perkins at the station?”

  “Yeah. One prior about seven years ago, a non-violent demonstration at the capitol where he got belligerent with officers. He was protesting some international science conference that supposedly was running tests on animals, but nothing ever came of it.” She had run the background on Perkins when she’d checked into Mike Worthington. She’s run a check on Dex, too, but Amber wasn’t going to tell him that.

  “That’s what this is about. I guarantee it,” Dex said triumphantly. Amber was still lost in her own thoughts and didn’t immediately put two and two together, and Dex didn’t get a chance to explain himself, as Perkins exited I-35 and pulled into a truck stop. The silver-headed man from last night was already there, waiting outside a massive pickup that looked more expensive than Amber’s house. It almost gave her a lady-boner.

  But when Perkins got out of his car and opened the trunk, he pulled out a soft-sided gun case. The silver-headed gentleman reached into the bed of his pick
up, pulling out another one, and they swapped. Both dressed in camo, they looked like they were ready for a hunting trip. Never mind it wasn’t hunting season yet. But along the Texas highways, it wasn’t unheard of any time of year to see two guys in camo swapping firearms. God Bless Texas. Amber sighed to herself.

  “How do you want to play this? I’d be willing to bet that’s a .243 he just gave the old guy.”

  “And whatever he’s going to shoot the next target with is in his trunk now.” Shit. She didn’t have a radio, but she got out her cell phone. “Well, we already know Perkins is probably on his way back to Austin. Let’s follow the truck and see where that’s headed.” She pulled out her notebook and jotted down the truck’s license plate number, wanting to call it in to check any priors on the owner. They could maybe get hold of the weapon to at least run ballistics on it.

  Dex followed the truck north on I-35, and Amber got nervous again. The truck itself was a study in extravagance, with all the gadgets and logos on it. The man driving didn’t seem to care about keeping a low profile, and that sort of scared Amber on a level deeper than she cared to admit.

  She just hoped the two of them could get the guy to stop and talk at some point in all this. Once they figured out where he was going.

  Dex was focused intently on staying a few car lengths behind the truck, saving his passing until the truck was damn near out of sight, then gunning it and catching up to the three car lengths. She’d missed the sign so had no idea where they were headed, but she knew they had no cover from other cars now. Any minute, he would figure out he was being followed.

  She gave in and called Nguyen, getting his voicemail, thankful she didn’t have to hear him lose his shit on her. Amber gave the basic details of what she was doing, leaving Dex out of it, and hung up taking a deep breath.

  Dex eased off the gas, keeping the truck within sight but a football field’s length or better behind it.

  “Shit,” Dex muttered under his breath. “We’re gonna lose him.” He punched the gas, apparently giving up on stealth and just straight-up tailing the guy now. Once there, Dex stuck close to his bumper.

  “I think he’s onto us.” Amber had been watching Dex’s powerful thighs as he drove, lost in embarrassing thoughts of what they would look like naked, but she realized his SUV was going way faster than it was before. Dex was maneuvering these windy country roads with skill, right on the bumper of the truck.

  “He’s not going to pull over unless I show some ID or something.”

  Dex was driving faster because the truck was driving faster. They were speeding along at a ridiculous pace.

  “Okay, get it out. I’m going to pull up alongside him, but watch out. He may try something funny.” Dex grimaced, not happy in the slightest, his voice a dangerous growl, illustrating his distaste for this idea.

  Amber got her badge out of her purse, rolled down her window, and nodded to Dex. “I’m ready.”

  He gunned the engine and swerved out to the side of the truck on the deserted road. Slowly, he managed to get up alongside the man and Amber showed her badge. “Pull over! Police! I have some questions!”

  There was no response, so Amber figured she needed to get in his face. Unbuckling her seatbelt, she moved to lean further out the window.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Dex snarled at her.

  “I’m not sure he sees me,” she replied sarcastically. There was no way he couldn’t see them, speeding along at a velocity she refused to acknowledge. The wind whipped her hair around her face as she leaned out the window, almost where she could knock on the other man’s door.

  Dex let out a string of curses, reaching for his sidearm to back her up. When he saw how far she was leaning, though, he dropped it, reaching for her waistband instead to hold her inside the SUV and keep her from toppling out.

  “Police!” Amber yelled, hoping beyond hope the silver-headed man would simply pull over and answer their questions, handing over the gun he had in the back of his truck without incident. Having Dex’s grip on the back of her pants was a reassuring backup, knowing if he let go, she would probably go ass over end out of the window. It gave her more bravery than she probably needed right now.

  Of course, like all things, the dude pulling over was just too much to hope for.

  Her words disappeared in the wind as they barreled along the thankfully deserted road.

  Silver Head glanced over at her, a grin of something evil spreading across his face, which was entirely too close to her given the fact they were careening down a tiny country highway. Dex muttered “Shit” again. He yanked her into the car, and Amber fell in a tumble of arms and legs.

  She braced herself awkwardly as Dex slammed on the brakes. Silver Head swerved to take them off the road, but Dex anticipated the maneuver, managing to slip behind him before he could crash into the side of the SUV.

  Amber risked a glance at the speedometer, her stomach plummeting. They were driving ninety miles an hour, even with Dex slowing down to get behind the truck. He started honking his horn at the guy, waving him over, and Amber scrambled for her seatbelt.

  “He’s not going to willingly pull over, doll face. He knows he’s a bad guy.” Dex’s dry humor at this moment was more soothing than she cared to admit.

  They were out of options. At this point, they could just follow him to see where he went, or turn around and head back to the hotel to regroup. She voted for the former.

  “Let’s just see where he takes us,” Amber suggested.

  Dex’s voice was frustrated. “We’re headed nowhere, where he already has at least one deer rifle in his car. Do we really want to find out how armed he is? We’ve got his plate number. You can fill out the person of interest paperwork when we get back to civilization. He’s on the radar. That’s what you needed, right?”

  Amber was about to argue just for the sake of argument when his Tahoe made all the decisions for them.

  Dex was suddenly struggling with the steering wheel and muttering his favorite obscenity under his breath. They’d gotten a flat, and he had to pull over.

  The police chase, Amber’s first, was finished.

  It was dark by the time they got back to the hotel. After changing the tire and finding their way back to Dallas, they were both exhausted yet edgy with adrenaline.

  But the truck was long gone. Amber had called an update in to the station, spoken with Nguyen, and gotten totally reamed for her inability to find anything concrete while simultaneously breaking radio contact. She skillfully left Dex’s existence out of the conversation. Dex held his tongue, knowing Nguyen’s knowledge of his presence wouldn’t help matters much. He’d just watched his girl push back her shoulders as she tried to explain her case to the supervisor.

  He could hear Nguyen through the phone as he yelled at Amber. “… local police involvement. He’s just going to call Perkins now and warn him, and he’ll dig deep in hiding …”

  Yadda yadda yadda.

  Dex had heard it all before but was proud when Amber finally interrupted his banshee-like rambling. “Sir, there wasn’t time. I made a judgement call, and I was wrong. But now we have some concrete leads to follow when I come home tomorrow.”

  There was more yelling on the other end and a chagrined “Yes, sir” from Amber before she finally hung up the phone with a huff and tossed it onto the sofa. “Well, that was fun.”

  “He’ll get over it. He’s a hothead. He loses his shit, blurts whatever is in his head, then when he calms down, he thinks things through and goes back on everything. He’ll see you did good up here.” Dex was trying to reassure her because he’d been there. He’d borne the brunt of Nguyen’s temper on a number of occasions and knew he always came back around. “He won’t apologize, but he’ll see you, and he’ll make some acknowledgement.”

  He folded Amber in his arms, so damned proud of her. She’d done everything right today, not that he doubted it. She wasn’t some simpering little girl who couldn’t handle her badge. “You’re one
tough lady, Amber,” he murmured into her hair. “You want a drink? The mini bar is stocked.”

  “Yes, please. Is there vodka tonic in there?”

  He mixed her a drink while she settled on the sofa, and when he brought it to her, she looked at him warmly. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” He wanted to talk about something that wasn’t related to the case but didn’t know how to start the conversation. “What brought you to Austin?”

  She waved him off as she sucked down half her drink. “Not going there, stud. I’m wound too tight.”

  “Stud, huh?” He teasingly waggled his eyebrows at her.

  “Not there, either. Let’s talk explosions. Do you have a map?” She flopped her body back, a pose of relaxation, but he could see she was tense, on edge.

  “No, but I can probably get one from the gift shop.” He stood, willing to do damn near anything for this woman.

  She nodded, and he left to do her bidding. While there, he got some ice cream as well, his stomach rumbling. When he got to the room, he realized they both needed food. Maybe pizza? That was great brainstorming food.

  After he ordered a pizza, he spread the map of Texas with the large inset of Austin on the table. Amber handed him a marker and started rattling off addresses.

  “What did you mean earlier, in the Tahoe, when you said ‘that’s what this is about’?” She was studying the map with the dots on it.

  “Animal protests. You said he got in trouble already for protesting about the safety of animals. Councilman Mims is working on a proposal to have Congress Bridge enlarged to decrease traffic congestion, and people are worried it will displace the bats.”

  “Bats?”

  He sighed. “Have you never heard about the bats? Austin’s sort of famous for them. Every night, millions of bats stream out from under Congress Bridge and take flight for the evening. In the morning, they come back and go to sleep.”

  She shuddered and went back to the map. “Could be …”

  “No. I think that’s it. Mims told me a while back, when he first made public what he was working on, that he’d been getting a lot of calls about it and stuff. It’s your motive.” He looked back at the map, trying to divine meaning from the dots.