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The Past Between Us

Page 4

by Kimberly Van Meter


  THOMAS TOOK THE FIRST off-ramp that indicated there was food and gas, but before he parked the car, he made a slow sweep of the area.

  “What are you doing?” she asked, squirming a little in her seat. “Remember me? The woman with an immediate and personal issue? I have to go.”

  “Just getting my bearings,” he said, finally selecting a spot right under a bright streetlamp. He offered her a short smile. “This isn’t my first apprehension. History or not, I’m not taking any chances.”

  There was something of a dark expression that flitted across her face and he almost got back on the freeway. She was up to something. It’d been a while but he recognized the cunning look in her eyes that she was doing her best to blanket. He turned and tried to level with her. “Listen, I know you’re probably thinking of a dozen different ways to get away from me but don’t waste your time. I’ve done this more times than you know. I don’t want to hurt you but I will disable you if need be in order to get the job done. You got it?”

  She had no reason to doubt his words. She could see that Tommy wasn’t the same person but she had to believe that deep down he still felt something for her, even if it was buried and nearly suffocated beneath the layers of time. Still, she wasn’t willing to bet her life on it so she had to think of Tommy as nothing more than an obstacle. It should be easy, seeing as she could feel the bruise forming under her skin from his knuckles. Her gaze hardened but her mouth trembled as she said, “I have to pee.”

  “All right, all right. I heard you. Just making sure we’re on the same page before you go and do something stupid. I’ve seen that look on your face. It’s the one that signals trouble.”

  “You don’t know me any longer. You shouldn’t presume to know any look of mine, Tommy. Trouble or otherwise,” she retorted. “Now can we stop with the chatter and get on with the need at hand?” She lifted her bound wrists and he laughed. She actually thought he was going to take off those manacles? She frowned at his soft chuckle. “What’s so funny? Surely you don’t expect me to manage the bathroom without the use of my hands.”

  “I’m sure you’ll manage. Get creative,” he said, getting out of the car. He had a feeling Cassi could manage just about anything she put her mind to in her present occupation. According to her file, she was a chameleon. She melted into her surroundings and took on a persona flawlessly. One thing that bothered him the minute he picked up her file was something that he had no business wanting to know but he did anyway…why did she stick to the East Coast? She would’ve stood a better chance at evasion if she’d skipped to the West, but she’d stayed within a certain area, almost as if she were following a pattern. Didn’t make sense for someone who was just looking to rip people off. That’s the part that bothered him. Or maybe he was just loath to believe that the girl of his memory had truly turned out bad.

  He walked her to the restroom and she gave him a scowl for not accommodating her desire to free her hands but he didn’t trust her. Besides, he wouldn’t trust anyone in this position. She was in his custody, not a date.

  “I’ll be waiting,” he said.

  “Fabulous,” she muttered and kicked the door shut. He had no doubt she was imagining that it’d been his head.

  CASSI PACED THE GRIMY FLOOR of the rest stop bathroom, her bottom lip scraping against her teeth as she wondered how to get out of this situation. She found it vaguely disturbing that Tommy had seen right through her. She’d have to be more careful—that is if she couldn’t manage to ditch him. There was a sharp knock at the door and his muffled voice told her to hurry up.

  She narrowed her stare at the warped and ugly door then dropped her gaze to the floor, looking for something to pick the lock on the cuffs. She found a broken pen in the corner, nearly covered by a sopping paper towel. She tried not to think too hard about where that pen had been in a previous life. By the looks of the floor, it was nowhere pretty. She broke off the metal clip and worked it into the small hole for the cuff key.

  Another sharp rap caused sweat to bead her forehead even though it was freezing in the cramped bathroom. “Gimme a minute,” she yelled. “A little privacy please!”

  He grumbled something on the other side but didn’t try to come in. She thanked her stars for the smallest blessings and worked harder at freeing the lock. She’d practiced this before using a bobby pin but this was a bit trickier. Just as she was about to give up, the lock sprang and the cuffs slid open. She exhaled softly. She had to make it look as if she hadn’t messed with them so she clicked the manacles back on loosely, checking to make sure she could easily slide out of them. She risked a tremulous smile for her accomplishment but smothered it before walking out of the bathroom.

  Tommy’s nose had reddened from the cold. He gave her a once-over and she held her breath as his gaze fastened briefly on her cuffs. When she lifted her chin and met his stare head-on he seemed satisfied that everything was as it should be. He took hold of her arm and walked her back to the car.

  “Such a gentleman,” she quipped as he opened the door for her.

  “Do you ever give that acid tongue of yours a rest? I see time hasn’t done much for your disposition.”

  She glared. “Excuse me for not being a chipper little companion for your road trip.”

  “Cassi, I’m just doing my job. Would you really rather have had someone else hauling your butt back? Because that can be arranged. All I have to do is make a call and someone else can be here and I can guarantee you they won’t give a rat’s ass if you have to pee or if you’re hungry. I’m just trying to make this as painless as possible but if you’re not interested in the kindness I’m showing you…just say the word.”

  She swallowed and blinked back a sudden wash of tears. For a moment he was the Tommy she remembered. He’d always had a way of grounding her when she went a little crazy. He was that solid, calming influence that had kept her from losing herself in the ridiculous circles she often traveled. And what he was saying right now…well, she could see the logic of it. She supposed she was glad it was Tommy. Especially since someone else likely would’ve double-checked her cuffs after she exited the bathroom.

  A twinge of regret filtered through her. But if he knew the whole story, she could almost bet that he’d understand.

  The only problem? He wasn’t willing to listen to her side of the story. So was it really her fault that she was about to do what she had to do?

  A part of her wished she could just sit down and show him the evidence she’d collected so far. He might even have valuable insights, maybe even dig out some leads she might’ve missed. A small ache spread across her chest and a pinprick of nostalgia, sharp and deadly, pierced her mind, dredging up memories that almost made her cry. She risked a look at Tommy, wondering if she should take the chance and tell him what she knew. But even as she searched his face for a clue as to which way to go, she knew she couldn’t tell him. He was an agent. His world was black-and-white. That was the world he knew and understood. And she’d be a fool to try to drag him into the chaotic mess that had become her life.

  Once she took her seat, he said, “I’m going to go pay for the gas. Don’t touch anything.”

  “I’ll try to restrain myself,” she said, but adrenaline had already started to flow through her veins. He’d taken the keys but there was another skill she’d picked up on her travels…

  Keys were unnecessary.

  THOMAS PUSHED OPEN THE scratched and dull glass door of the convenience store and it took him a full second to realize what he was seeing—or more specifically—not seeing.

  His car.

  And his prisoner.

  Somehow, cuffed and without keys, she’d stolen his car.

  He muttered a stream of swear words that would’ve earned him a bar of soap back in the day and shoved the packaged salad and three different choices of dressing he’d purchased for her into the trash.

  If it were possible, he could almost see the steam rising from his ears into the chill air. In glaring detail
he knew where he’d screwed up. He hadn’t checked her cuffs after she’d emerged from the bathroom. Somehow she’d gotten them loose. He’d made sure they were tight when he put them on, which meant she’d sprung the lock when she was out of sight and banked on the fact that he would be distracted by her in general. And she’d banked right.

  The weight of his keys resting in his pocket told him that she’d hot-wired the car. Shit. His cell phone was in the car but he had his wallet, badge and gun. He had two choices: Call it in and have an APB put out on her but risk the ridicule of every one of his peers as well as the ire of his superior. Or he could just go after her.

  Like there was a choice.

  He spied a pay phone and strode to it. He lifted the receiver, swiped his ATM card and punched in his cell number. He doubted she’d answer but if she did, he had an earful for the runaway, former society girl. The phone rang four times before transferring to his voice mail. He hung up and stared at the road where she’d disappeared. Whatever tender nostalgic feelings he’d had for her withered and died.

  This time when he caught her—he’d show no mercy.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CASSI KNEW SHE DIDN’T HAVE much of a head start on Tommy, maybe an hour at best, as he probably wasted little time in finding a rental car to chase after her. She also couldn’t afford to get pulled over driving a government vehicle so while it grated on her nerves to drive so slowly, she kept her speed at the limit and obeyed all traffic rules.

  Tommy’s cell phone buzzed to life at her hip in the console but she ignored it. No good would come from answering that phone, even if she were tempted to apologize for putting him in a bad spot. She bit her lip and wondered if this was something he could get fired for. He was probably a very good agent. He’d always held such a rigid concept of morality that she’d half wondered how he was ever going to survive high school—particularly theirs—but those smoking good looks of his hadn’t hurt and he’d done just fine, even if he never paid much attention to the politics of his peers.

  Unlike her. She settled into the seat and set the cruise control. She’d been such an idiot. All the things she’d thought were important had turned out to be as insubstantial as shadows on the wall. No one really cared that she’d been voted Biggest Flirt their senior year or that she’d been named Prom Queen over Tiffani Jenkins in what had been the biggest coup de grâce Winston High School had ever seen. If only high school cred had extended to something that really mattered, such as getting someone to listen to you when you told them your stepfather had killed your mother but made it look like an accident so no one believed you.

  She hadn’t realized how much she’d taken her family’s money and connections for granted until it’d all been yanked away. Two years was a lifetime to wander in exile.

  Some days she couldn’t quite believe the life she was living.

  But if she could put together the scattered puzzle pieces of Lionel Vissher then the whole picture of deception would become clear. At least that’s what she hoped would happen.

  Her biggest fear, though, was that, even if she managed to prove that Lionel wasn’t who he said he was, no one would care and nothing would change. Lionel would continue blowing through her family’s fortune and she’d end up in prison.

  A chill puckered her skin and she rubbed at her forearm. Just thinking it made her sick to her stomach.

  She may have been born a spoiled princess but she’d become a soldier and she wasn’t about to let Lionel win this war.

  “Sorry, Tommy,” she whispered and then pushed the thought of her childhood friend far away. She didn’t have the luxury of nostalgia.

  THOMAS HURTLED DOWN the freeway, back to the city, his mind working quickly to assess the situation. He had to regroup, get his head on straight and apprehend the target. It was likely she was returning to her apartment to get whatever she’d left behind—probably the date book she’d asked about—and then she’d take off again. He wasn’t going to waste time going back to her apartment. By the time he reached the city, she’d have cleaned out her essentials and moved on, and he could expect to find his vehicle dumped somewhere. He’d already called in the theft, leaving out the part that it was his target who had stolen it. She would need transportation. The closest bus station to her apartment or her place of employment was the best bet as she’d need someplace quick and easily accessible if things got hot.

  He grabbed the disposable phone he’d purchased and quickly dialed someone he trusted. Owen, his foster brother and someone he knew would keep things between them, picked up the line.

  “Who is this?” Owen asked. It was nearing midnight in California but Owen was still awake, no doubt crunching numbers on some project or deal for his logging company.

  “It’s me. I need a favor.”

  “Tommy? What number are you calling from? You okay? You sound funny.”

  “I’m fine but I have a bit of a situation I’m dealing with and lost my phone. I’m on one of those disposable things.”

  “Like the ones drug dealers and pimps use so it can’t be traced back to them? Must be one helluva situation you’re in. So what’s the favor?” Owen asked, getting straight to the point. “I’ll help if I can.”

  “You near a computer?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I need you to text me the addresses of the bus stations nearest to Gorkey and Landon Streets in New York City.”

  “Going on a trip?”

  “Not recreationally.”

  “You sure you’re okay?”

  “Everything’s fine.” Or at least it would be once he caught that little escape artist who had managed to make him look like a rookie and a dumb ass with one shot. “I’d do it myself but this disposable isn’t internet capable and I don’t have time to locate a computer.”

  “This sounds personal,” Owen murmured, and Tommy didn’t waste time denying it even if it wasn’t exactly true. But Owen didn’t press for details, either, which was another reason Tommy picked him instead of Christian, who lived in Manhattan and was always interested in getting the dirt. “All right. Sent. Anything else?”

  “No,” he answered, a short satisfied smile following as the cell dinged with an arriving text message. “That’ll do it. Thanks, man. I’ll explain later.”

  “Can’t wait,” Owen returned dryly but then added, “Be safe.”

  “Always.”

  The line went dead and Thomas tossed the cell on the seat beside him. Both his brothers were solid guys in different ways. They didn’t share a drop of blood but Tommy knew Owen and Christian would have his back just as he would always have theirs. That’s how Mama Jo had raised them. He missed spending time with them, but the past few months had been consumed with tracking down Cassi, leaving little time to socialize and catch up. Besides, he wasn’t the only one whose personal life was submarined by the job. Christian was a bartender at some swanky place, pulling down more money a year than he was, while Owen had his hands full over in the wilds of the Santa Cruz Mountains in California trying to keep his logging company alive in an economy that had determined logging was something of a dirty word.

  They’d scattered but it was rare that they didn’t connect a few times a month. And he was feeling the separation. He made a mental promise to pop in and at least say hello to Mama Jo after he dragged Cassi back to West Virginia.

  He missed Mama Jo’s cooking.

  And right about now he was thinking he needed one of her signature finger thumps on the back of his skull for being such a class-A idiot.

  CASSI DUMPED THE CAR IN A relatively safe place so it wouldn’t get stripped overnight and then hopped a cab back to her apartment. She didn’t stroll through the front door but used the fire escape like before, only this time she did a thorough search of the place before she let her guard down. When she was certain Tommy wasn’t hiding behind a shower curtain or closet door, she gathered her essentials, including the stuffed date book and the prepaid bus ticket to Jersey and then with one last
look around the small place she’d called home for such a brief time, she disappeared out the window.

  With the familiar weight of her backpack against her shoulder blades and the ticket in her hand, her thoughts returned to her situation. She hadn’t exactly finished her business in New York when Tommy busted in on her but with the authorities closing in, she didn’t have a choice but to lie low for a while. She figured Jersey was a good pick since she could disappear fairly easily into Newark, due to its size. She tended to steer clear of small towns as anonymity was something she prized, and it was damn near impossible to get when everyone wanted to know your business.

  She checked the time for the next bus. She had about a half hour to kill. Lucky. It could’ve been worse. Her stomach growled. Repositioning her pack, she went to the vending machine to check out what kind of toxic waste cleverly packaged as food was available. Hmm, the choices were slim. She settled for a candy bar, figuring the sugar kick might bolster her flagging energy if not help keep her focused.

  For some reason she couldn’t shake the sense of guilt that shadowed her every movement. Damn Tommy. Why’d he have to be the one to come after her? If it’d been anyone else she could’ve left without a second glance or even a smidge of concern weighing her down.

  She huffed a short breath and took a bite of the candy.

  THOMAS SPOTTED HER STANDING in the bus station foyer, chewing slowly, her brow furrowing ever so slightly as if she were wrestling with something. She crumpled the wrapper and threw it in the trash can with a little more force than was required and the expression of consternation was replaced with resolve.

 

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