"Drew," Beth said in a low voice, "smush down in your seat and don't move." She turned and looked at him, and added, "Unless someone shows up with a weapon, stay put!"
Once he'd nodded, she went back to stalking her prey.
The woman was loaded down by a large purse and a lumpy carry-on, and the man carried several suitcases. Beth waited until she saw the shuttle entering the lot, popped the trunk, got a suitcase out and shut it; then she carefully walked to where the shuttle had stopped. Well, really she kind of tip-toed along, because she was only stepping on her left toe.
She waited until the bus door opened, and the woman was reaching for the rail to climb aboard, and Beth was within inches of her. Then she stepped down hard on the heel, which promptly snapped off, causing her to crash into the older woman, taking them both to the ground.
The contents of both their purses along with the things from the woman's tote spilt out, all over the tarmac.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," Beth exclaimed, as she helped gather up the woman's things and stuffed them back into the bags, helped her stand, and even brush some dirt off.
"Damn it, Jean!" the husband snapped, "Hurry up or we're going to miss our plane. We were cutting it close as it was, before you knocked that poor lady down."
"No, really. It was me who knocked your wife down," Beth protested. She gave the maligned wife a sympathetic look and added, "And I am so very sorry. Really".
Then she spoke over the couple's heads to the driver, "I'm going to have to find another pair of shoes. I have more than enough time to make my flight. Hours, in fact. Don't wait for me. Really."
The bus driver looked from the couple and then to her, and said, "If you're sure. Another bus will be along in about ten minutes or so." Then he closed the door and pulled away, as Beth headed back to her car.
As soon as the shuttle had cleared the fencing, Beth hobbled to the driver's back door, ripped off the other shoe, and peeled off the jacket, skirt and camisole.
Andrew watched this strip-tease, but remained quiet. However, he had opened his own car door, gotten out and opened the back door.
"Do you think you could take the license plate from this car and swap it for another one? Any other one, except that Le Sabre."
"Of course, but," Drew said, "I still don't see how switching license plates gets us any closer to another car."
Then Beth clicked the keys she'd palmed and the Le Sabre's interior lights came on and its trunk popped opened, as she looked over to him smiling and added, "Then take the filched license plate and switch it with the Buick's."
"Brilliant!" Drew told her. Then he looked at her and asked, "But how did you know she'd have the car keys? He was the one driving, after all."
"I was married to Tom long enough to recognize the type."
"Okay..."
"They're his keys. But, he doesn't want to sit on them through the flight. And, since they won't need them until they return, why should he even be bothered with keeping track of them. I bet you she'll end up with the passports and anything else he normally carries -- other than money."
"I always learn something from you."
"Yes, well," she answered, appreciatively, "but, we need to get moving. As soon as you're finished with the license plates, transfer things from the rental to our new car. And don't forget the parking ticket."
Meanwhile, Beth had pulled the other set of clothes from the tote, and donned them. She finished by pulling on her socks and then slipped into her loafers.
Then she gathered up the discarded outfit and stuffed it in the tote, as she called out, "How are you doing, Sweetheart?"
"All finished," Drew responded.
A few minutes later, as they approached the toll gate, she held her hand out to him and hissed, "Just play along."
Andrew merely placed the ticket in her palm and nodded. As she jerked the car to a halt, and lowered the driver's window, she snapped, "I can't believe you forgot our goddamned passports! Use the ride home to think if you've forgotten anything else."
Holding the ticket out, she looked at the ticket collector, and said, "I know we aren't suppose to come in and then leave again so quickly, but my idiot husband forgot our passports and God knows what else. Here's a twenty," she said, as she tossed it at the man, smiled sourly, and closed the window. She barely waited for the gate to lift, before she zoomed out.
They were off.
*****
"Idiot husband?" Andrew repeated, but he was smiling.
"I was thinking of Tom."
"Well, all right then."
"How are you feeling?"
"I'm all right. I won't lie, it's really starting to hurt. But, it will only get worse, so I'm going to try and stick it out another hour or two."
"Okay, now...where am I going? San Diego? Litchfield?"
"Neither. Whoever's after you will probably be watching both places. We need to get to Jack's. Hopefully, we can sneak into Georgetown without our shadow."
"Our shadow?" she asked.
"I didn't spot anyone on our drive to the airport, but then, I didn't see anyone following us around New Orleans."
"But, surely that was the woman, and she's dead."
"I'd like to believe that she was the only one." He scowled and then added, "However, I wouldn't count on it."
"But why, Andrew?"
"That's what we're going to have to try and figure out as we drive."
"All right. I'd hoped the gas tank would be full, but it's less than half. It's about the same age as the Park Avenue in Litchfield, so I'm going to assume it gets about the same gas mileage. We could probably drive close to two-hundred miles on what's left. But I think I'm going to stop at a truck stop somewhere up the road. We can gas up, get the maps you want and some snacks," she paused before adding, "and use the bathrooms."
"But Beth--"
She looked at him and said, "I know, you're going to say you won't need to, but here's the reality. Right now you can get in and out of the car, but with that bullet still in you, we can't know how long you'll be able to. At least you were naked at the time, so we know there's no fibers, or bits of cloth, or anything in there with it. But, that doesn't guarantee it won't become infected. I also don't know how the medications will hit you. And, I can't get you in and out of the car and restroom."
"All right, Beth."
They got cleared of New Orleans and its surrounding suburbs before she exited the highway for gas. But she didn't pull up to the pump first. Instead, she parked in a handicapped space.
"Beth, I know you don't want me to have to walk very far, but we really can't risk drawing attention to ourselves..." His words trailed off as she reached under the visor and brought down a Handicap Parking Permit.
"How did you do that?" he asked.
"I saw it when they drove in. I was holding out for a car that you would be comfortable in. You know, one you could get in and out of easily. But, the handicap permit was sheer luck."
Drew took her hand in his, squeezed it and said, "You are amazing."
"I try, Andrew. I try. Now, go to the bathroom. I'll move the car to a pump, and wait for you to get back. Then I'll go in, tell them the pump number and gather up a few supplies. Do you want coffee, or soda, or what?"
"I don't think the coffee will sit well with the pills. So, I suppose, just more bottles of water for me. And," he added, "the maps."
By the time she returned to the car, it was gassed up, and Drew was sitting in the passenger seat, but she didn't particularly like the way he looked. Beth got in the driver's seat, and moved the car to a dark corner of the parking lot. There she jumped back out and grabbed the throw pillows and afghan, as well as the sport's jacket.
"Andrew, I really think you need to put the coat on. I'm going to have to keep the air conditioning on 'freeze' to stay awake. And, I don't want you getting chilled."
He yielded and stood up, but Beth could see he had to work at it. Walking to the building and back, and filling the car with gas had
taken its toll. She helped him into the over-sized jacket, back into the car, and then stuffed the pillows around him, in an attempt to make him comfortable and protected from jostling.
Before she closed his door, she tucked his weapon in the sling, where he could easily get it. "Let me know if it's too heavy and you're uncomfortable with it there. But I thought it would be handy there, yet be hidden."
"Thank you, Beth. You think of everything. Let's hope I won't need it." He looked over and asked, "You have yours handy, right?"
"Yes, I have one in the pocket of the door, and another in my purse." I'm prepared. Don't worry." When she leaned in and kissed him, she found his cheek was very warm, and it worried her.
It got worse. Once she was back in her seat, Andrew said, "Beth, could you please fasten my seatbelt? I...I can't seem to reach it this time. It must be all these pillows around me."
"Of course, Sweetheart." Once they were both belted in, she checked that the huge foam cup of soda was secure in the cup holder on the armrest, held out a bag, and announced, "Okay, I have a mega-blast of Dr. Pepper -- with plenty to share, should you want some. There are half a dozen bottles of water, a bottle of chocolate milk, and a bottle of orange juice...for me," she said, grinning at him. "I also have a large bag of pretzels, some gummy bears, and a package of Vienna Fingers. What's your pleasure?"
What she didn't tell him she had in the bag were several energy shots. Or, that she'd already downed one in the store.
Andrew's voice took on that velvet softness, and answered, "You know what my pleasure is -- you." Then in a louder voice, asked, "What are Vienna Fingers? Not those awful little canned sausages? I can't believe after two weeks of exquisite food, you'd eat them."
"Those are Vienna Sausages, and you're right -- I wouldn't eat them. I wouldn't let any of the boys eat them, let alone you. Vienna Fingers are vanilla sandwich cookies. The good thing about them is they're sweet -- but not too sweet."
"I see. And the pretzels?"
"Are salty, but not greasy." She looked at him, frowned, and said, "You haven't gone on a lot of road trips, have you?"
"Of course I've driven on trips. I drove to Monte Carlo, didn't I?"
"Well, you drove from the Nice airport to Monte Carlo. And that, my sweet, does not, a road trip make."
"This is one of those things Jack would understand, isn't it?"
"I'm afraid so."
"I think I want to take a pill now."
Beth handed him her purse, and said, "They're in here. While you're in there, count out how much money we have. Read those drug instructions carefully before you take anything. And then, let me know what you take and when."
"Yes, ma'am."
"I'm sorry, Sweetheart."
"No, Beth. I was teasing. You're doing just fine. I see no reason to argue with you about anything."
"Then, you won't get upset with me, when I ask you if we have to go to Jack's?"
"Yes, Beth. I'm afraid we do. But what's the matter? You love Jack."
"Well, yes...I do. But, first of all, Jack has a life and job of his own. And, secondly, I don't think you want to be in the actual room with him when he finds out we've left a body on his very rich friend's gallery."
"You think he's going to be upset, don't you?"
At the risk of wrecking the car, she turned to face him, and asked, "Ya think?"
Andrew pointed forward and grunted, "Uh..."
Beth looked back and swerved to avoid the rather large chunk of tire in the lane. "Sorry."
"We need to get to Jack's in one piece. Besides," Drew said, smugly, "He won't be angry when he finds out the corpse was aiming at your head. He's extremely fond of you. But, I was watching him...uh...her."
"Are you sure she was aiming at me, Andrew?"
"Yes, and what worries me is she knew where the bed was in that dark room, and which side you were on. I think she'd been inside while we were gone and scoped the place out. And, I didn't notice anything amiss."
"But, why would she want to kill me?"
"I told you. We don't know. Neither Jack, nor I have a clue. That's what we need to try and find out.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
After they'd been driving a while, Beth asked, "You said that you came to New Orleans to identify my body?"
"Yes," he replied, "Jack met me. We were really afraid you were dead. The woman had your purse, with all of your IDs and driver's licenses. And, she was built like you and all the others."
"Others?"
Andrew let out a deep sigh, but said, "Let's start at the beginning. This is what we believe happened. You had your meeting with Sir Anthony, and decided to run." He looked over and when she nodded, he continued, "You took all the money you could find, scooped up all the assorted IDs, and bolted.
"You took the train to Paris, then flew to Canada, and finally crossed into the US at Niagara. You made it to New York City, and then Litchfield -- where you raided the house for more money and supplies. Went to New Jersey and bought an old car. That's when we lost you. We thought you'd eventually end up in San Diego. But we didn't know how or when."
"I must not have done a very good job," Beth groaned.
"Don't put yourself down, Elizabeth. The only reason we were able to find you was because I knew you'd use some of my college girl friends' names for your fake IDs. If I hadn't known that, we might never have found you."
Beth gave out a long, drawn out sigh, and then said, "But, you did find me. You not only found me, but pretty much followed me from Europe, across Canada, and then through the US."
"Seriously Elizabeth, if we didn't have some specific names to search for, we wouldn't have found how you left England, let alone follow you halfway around the world.
"And even then, it took us several days to track you to as far as Paris. Really, for a spur-of-the-moment plan, it was excellent."
"I shouldn't have run, Andrew. I'm sorry. I just..."
"It's all right, Bethy. I understand why you ran. I understood then. If we'd been getting on better, I would have taken you to San Diego to visit your parents -- before Sir Anthony even had a chance to suspend you."
"What do you mean?"
"I would have whisked you away, before he could upset you," Andrew told her.
"Why would you know before me?"
"Ah..."
"Andrew, why would Sir Anthony tell you about my suspension before speaking to me?"
"Bethy..."
"Tell me!"
"I was against it. To be honest, Sir Anthony was against it, as well. But, the PM said you were to be accused and suspended. It was supposed to put the real mole off-guard. And I told him--"
"Edmund Andrew Oliver! Are you saying that I wasn't actually suspected? That I was never suspected?"
"Well...no, as I said, it was supposed to flush out the--"
Beth switched on her turn signal and pulled off onto the shoulder. After she threw the car in park, she switched off the engine and turned to face Drew. She was frowning, and when she spoke, her voice was cold, hard, and brittle. "I want to make sure I understand this correctly. Are you telling me that I was never really suspected of passing information, at all?"
"Of course not, Beth. I told you, it was a stupid plan the Prime Minister insisted on Sir Anthony following."
"Why me?"
"I don't understand..."
"Why was I the lucky person to be chosen for this?"
"Because, Elizabeth, you're Caesar's wife. You are above suspicion."
"When the bloody hell," she asked, her voice rising in pitch with each word, "did you become Caesar?"
"I'm not...I don't think I am...it was...it was just a figure of speech. You know...Shakespeare," Drew stammered.
"I don't believe what I'm hearing. Do you know how hurt and ashamed I was? And not just for me, but for you and Father to be tainted by your connection to me."
"Don't you see, Beth? That's why it had to be you. You're Sir Roger Emery's daughter, the Minister of Defense's
goddaughter, and my wife. If anyone is beyond reproach, Sweetheart, it's you."
"Andrew," Beth snapped, becoming angrier as she spoke, "I didn't complain when I was left in Litchfield, as if I was some sacrificial lamb, tied to a tree. I did what I was supposed to: remain calm, stay focused, secure weapons, and wind Meeker up. All you men had to do was come in, noisily, and allow yourselves to be caught."
"But, Bethy--"
"And, I didn't argue with Sir Anthony when my first assignment was to take Padma out to lunch and shopping. I looked up your first assignment -- you infiltrated a Soviet work camp, rescued a scientist, and brought him back to England safely.
"I knew I was the pretend security. And I didn't complain. I played along. And, what happened then? Oh, yes, the real security team," she said in a sneering voice, while making quotations with her fingers, "got themselves waylaid, and I saved Padma's life, and the Ministry's reputation.
"And, in the process I was severely injured -- and that injury cost our baby his life. How dare you, or Father, or Sir Anthony make me the bait again!"
"Elizabeth--"
"Andrew, I love you. But, I'm very angry. And, I can't punch you in the arm, because the damned bullet is still in there. But, don't be surprised if you get smacked once the bullet's out."
"Bethy..."
"Do not speak to me!" she yelled, as she turned the key, revved the car engine, and jerked the car back onto the highway without even looking.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Andrew stole another look at Beth. They'd driven in silence for well over an hour. She had every right to be furious -- with him, Sir Anthony, and the Prime Minister. To be fair, Andrew didn't think her father had been told about the stupid plan until after she had.
The sun wasn't quite up, but it was beginning get light. Drew's shoulder throbbed, and he was pretty sure he had a fever. So, even though he wanted another pain pill, he took one of the antibiotics. He even drank down an entire bottle of water, in the hope Beth would notice and be pleased.
The trouble was she was truly and righteously pissed.
"Beth..." he said, "I think we need to get something to eat. We really didn't eat much yesterday, and you've been driving all night. We still have at least twelve hours of driving ahead of us. I think you should get yourself something to eat, and maybe take a little break."
Duty With Honor Book Five: An Unexpected Pause Page 22
