Rhy sighed. “She thinks the boy would be safer in DC. I disagree. Northern Maine is the last place Everson will think to look for them if something goes wrong when we hit Simon White’s cabin, and the two of them are our best link to catching the bastard. Until we do, they stay close.”
“Yeah, I got that much.” Tim turned to pin him with a wry smile. “What I want to know is what’s going on between you and the General’s daughter.”
Rhy shot an aggravated glare at the empty staircase and turned toward the kitchen. Tim followed on his heels.
Snatching a mug from the counter, Rhy poured a cup of coffee. “The only thing going on between us is a mutual desire to see Everson caught.”
Tim leaned his hips against the counter. “Bullshit. Watching the two of you argue is like having a ringside seat to a lesson in foreplay.” He studied Rhy with keen eyes. “Don’t take this wrong, but other than a few quick hookups, you’ve barely noticed women since Pamela and Emily died. It’s like you’ve put on blinders and refuse to let yourself look. All of a sudden, you can’t keep your eyes off this one. I can’t decide if you want to strangle her or throw her over your shoulder and find the nearest bed.”
Rhy ground his teeth. There was no point in denying Tim’s accusation. Having met in the same unit in Afghanistan, they’d been friends a long time, and over the years, Tim had had his back in some fucked-up shit. One didn’t survive the trenches they’d experienced without getting to know the other, inside and out, and Tim had been a solid wall of support throughout the darkest days following the funerals and in the years since. Tim knew him as well as anyone, and although his friend’s ability to read a situation quickly and accurately had saved Rhy’s ass on more than one occasion, it was a quality Rhy didn’t appreciate in this case.
“I’m leaning toward strangulation at the moment.”
Tim grinned. “She’s hot as hell, buddy, but you don’t seem to have impressed her.”
“Whether I’ve impressed her or not doesn’t matter. She’s a client.”
“Uh-huh. I thought maybe you’d forgotten that.”
“I remember,” Rhy said through gritted teeth.
“Good to hear, and since it doesn’t matter, you won’t care when I take a shot at her…after you’ve crashed and burned.”
Rhy snorted at the teasing in his friend’s eyes. “Fuck you.”
Low laughter rumbled in Tim’s chest as he pushed off the counter and crossed to open the fridge. He bent to study the contents.
Rhy sighed. “I admit, if the circumstances were different, throwing her over my shoulder and finding a bed would be the first item on my agenda, but neither one of us has any business ‘taking a shot’ at a woman who might possibly be a thief.”
“Possibly?” Tim straightened and turned slowly, the teasing smile faded from his face. “What about the documents Everson gave you? Didn’t they check out?”
Rhy scrubbed a palm down his face. “I didn’t look.”
Tim’s arched brows sliced at Rhy’s guilt. It wasn’t like him to take on a job without a clear grasp of all the angles. For the first time in his career, he hadn’t done his homework. Anxious to clear the debt with Everson, he hadn’t bothered to check the validity of the evidence he’d been given.
“Yeah, I fucked up.” Rhy lifted the mug to his lips then set it aside without drinking. “Everson played me like a chump. It won’t happen again, but in the meantime, odds are the documents are bogus. What they claim doesn’t add up.”
“How so?”
“The cabin where she was hiding looked like it hadn’t been renovated since the seventies, and the furniture was even older. Even if she was trying to keep a low profile, she’s supposedly sitting on two million. You and I both know a thief doesn’t steal that kind of cash just to hide it away, and what woman wouldn’t spend a few bucks to replace forty-year-old appliances and furniture, if only in the name of comfort?” Jerking his coat from the back of a chair, Rhy shoved his arms into the sleeves. “More importantly, why would a woman cunning enough to pull off a two-million-dollar embezzlement agree to put her life on the line to help find the man who could send her to prison?”
Tim crossed his arms. “You said Senator Hawley believes Everson killed her father. Revenge is a powerful motivator. It might be just that simple.”
Rhy nodded and couldn’t help but agree, not with the need to avenge Brian’s death eating at his stomach lining. “She’s angry enough, but she’s also scared. Until I get to the truth and Everson is caught, I don’t trust her not to bolt.” He glanced at the clock on the wall. “The team should be gathered to hit the cabin. You good?”
“Yeah. You want me to check out those documents while you’re gone?”
Rhy studied his friend. On his way home from an assignment in Kuwait when he’d gotten Rhy’s call, thirty-plus hours without rest hadn’t stopped Tim from checking out the slim lead involving the cabin in northern Maine. He looked like shit.
“When was the last time you slept?”
Tim rubbed a palm around the back of his neck. “I don’t have a fucking clue.”
“Get some rest. The documents will wait.”
“And them?” Tim jerked his chin toward the ceiling. “I can’t watch them if I’m snoring.”
Rhy smiled. “Keep your keys in your pocket. They aren’t going anywhere on foot.”
Curled beneath the dashboard of the old pickup, Nicky offered a silent thank-you to Mother Nature for her recent nor’easter. Thanks to the sheer amount of snow, the driveway of the safe house where McLean had stashed her and Alex had yet to be cleared, forcing Tim Burns, a trusted member of McLean’s team, to park his truck on the street.
His obvious exhaustion had been the reason Tim was chosen to babysit them while McLean and the rest of his team raided the cabin twenty miles away. In the cold night air of the pickup’s cab, she held her breath as the well-tuned engine purred to life. She popped up from under the dash and shot a wary glance at the house and the window of the first-floor room where Tim slept. At least she hoped he slept.
Nicky shifted into gear, expecting to see the front door flung back on its hinges by an angry, dangerous male. Having your truck stolen in the middle of the night was bound to put anyone in a bad mood. She had no interest in experiencing Tim’s mood firsthand.
Hot-wiring was a skill she’d picked up—she’d be sure to thank Devin when she saw him again—but until tonight, she’d never put the skill to practical use. She hoped she’d never have the need to do so again. Of the many nerve-racking actions she’d been forced to take over the last half-decade, committing auto theft was definitely near the top of the list. Her heart pounded so hard, she was amazed the occupants of the houses close by weren’t throwing open their doors to discover what the racket was all about.
Beside her, Alex remained silent. Nicky’s heart ached at the knowledge that he accepted, without comment, the midnight departure from yet another strange house. His simple acquiescence in the face of behaviors most people would question as odd was an unfortunate but understandable by-product of a lifetime on the run.
Someday. Someday, we’ll live the life others take for granted.
A last glance in the rearview mirror assured her their leave-taking had gone undetected. She braked at the end of the snow-covered side street and turned left onto the two-lane road, heading south. Without a map and unwilling to use the phone’s GPS, in case McLean used it to track her, she had no idea where the rural byway would take them but wasn’t concerned. They were headed away from Simon White’s cabin, and that was all that mattered.
According to the call Tim had received before he finally fell asleep, the raid hadn’t bagged Jonathan as they’d hoped. She glanced down at the cell phone on the seat beside her. “Tim needs to get some shut-eye,” McLean had explained as he handed her the phone before leaving. “If you sense anything out of the ordinary, call me immediately.”
Nicky winced, picked up the phone, and depressed the power bu
tton. No doubt he’d consider their disappearing without so much as a good-bye as way out of the ordinary, but though McLean and his team had Jonathan’s cabin surrounded, there was no guarantee Jonathan would fall into their trap. If their plan worked, fine, but if Jonathan learned of the raid somehow and knew Global Shield was involved, she and Alex would be the ones to pay the price.
Once again, everything had changed. As a fugitive, Jonathan was more dangerous than he’d ever been. He no longer had anything left to lose, and she and Alex no longer had the luxury of hiding, not without her father there to be their eyes and ears.
Paul was right. Nicky had no choice but to make a stand. That was exactly what she planned to do once Alex was safe. McLean would be seriously pissed when he discovered they were gone. In a stolen truck no less, but she couldn’t take the chance. Not with Alex’s life.
She knew how Jonathan worked and the kind of connections he had. As soon as he discovered McLean’s part in the cabin’s raid, McLean and Global Shield would become the central focus of attention for some of the most vicious criminals in this hemisphere.
She ran her gaze over Alex, his eyelids drooping as he slipped into slumber. No, better she take him somewhere having nothing to do with Rhyder McLean.
Nicky fought off a yawn and gripped the steering wheel one-handed to shrug out of her coat. After tucking the material around Alex, she opened the window enough to let in the cold winter air. The chill would keep her awake and alert. Her gaze fell on the phone beside her and shifted to the open window and back. Biting her lip, she tossed the phone out of the truck into the dark. She’d deal with McLean’s anger if and when the time came.
In the meantime, she needed to get her hands on another vehicle then find a safe place to make some calls and get some rest.
Six long hours later, she spotted a mall and exited the highway in a town just north of Boston. Eyeing the Pancake Barn as they passed, she continued toward the mall lot and a spot close to one of the main entrances where Tim’s truck would remain inconspicuous, lost in the crowd, until the mall closed later tonight. They’d be long gone by then.
She checked her watch. Nine fifty. The mall wouldn’t open for another ten minutes, but already the parking lot was crowded with shoppers eager to beat the crowds. The stolen truck was quickly swallowed up in the sea of vehicles. Checking twice to make sure they’d left nothing behind, she climbed from the vehicle, took Alex by the hand and, with her full duffel bag hung from her shoulder, headed for the restaurant. They could have breakfast before calling a cab.
The six-year-old sedan hadn’t exactly been the deal of the century, but Nicky had haggled enough the casually dressed car salesman wouldn’t be able to do a lot of bragging, either. He hadn’t blinked an eye when she said she’d pay in cash. The paperwork was filled out, and not once did he ask to see the fake identification she was prepared to produce.
“Megan Hartley” and her young son drove off the lot in their new-old Taurus less than an hour after they’d arrived. Apparently, the slightly transient appearance of the lot was more indicative of the owner’s business practices than she’d previously considered. That suited Nicky fine. Shady businessmen were less likely to answer questions truthfully.
The motel she chose was more upscale than some of the others along the highway. Anyone pursuing them would expect her to keep a low profile. This place wouldn’t fit that bill. Still, she experienced a moment of unease as she handed the credit card to the woman at the front desk. Despite the name on the account being a fictitious one, just like the name she’d given the car salesman, Jonathan might still find them. He already had once.
Had he followed her back from her father’s funeral, or had Jonathan known where she was all along and simply bided his time until he was ready to make his move? Hopefully, even if he had known where she was, he didn’t know all her aliases. She hadn’t used this particular one for over two years.
She dropped the duffel on the floor inside the motel room door. Alex ran to one of the two double beds, scrambled onto the mattress, and climbed to his feet. He tested its firmness with five or six healthy bounces and grinned widely. “Can I have this one?”
“Whichever one you want, baby.”
Nicky chuckled at his whoop of pleasure and laughed outright when he landed on his back, flapping his arms and legs on the burgundy comforter as if making a snow angel. She locked and chained the door then wedged one of the chairs from the small table in the corner under the doorknob. Alex moved around the room, checking out everything. The television had just come on when she sat down at the table and picked up the phone.
“I need to make a phone call. Don’t turn it up too loud, okay?”
“Okay.”
The unmistakable sound of cartoons floated from the set. With his chin propped on his palms, he stretched out on his belly. His little elbows stuck out to each side, he toed off one sneaker then the other. The discarded shoes lay where they fell. A moment later he was absorbed in the antics of the famous cat and mouse.
“Hello,” a familiar voice answered on the other end of the line.
“Hello. It’s Nicky. I need your help.”
Chapter Eleven
On a wide yawn, Nicky stretched her arms above her head and considered how a few hours of sleep did wonders for a body. Five hours of shut-eye and she was almost human again. The television droned on, the volume low, but she recognized the music signaling the conclusion of Alex’s favorite show even before she opened her eyes.
“Are you hungry, baby?” She sat up and brushed her hair back from her face.
He glanced over. “No, I had a snack.”
She’d purchased several toy cars and some coloring supplies in a dollar store near the mall, along with some snacks. The evidence of his having polished off a number of the snacks was clear around his mouth, if not in the wrappers that littered his bed. She couldn’t help but laugh, and he grinned in response.
“I guess you did.”
“I saved you a cupcake.” Scrambling off the bed, Alex crossed to hers. He climbed up beside her, almost managing to keep from smashing the cupcake in his hand.
Nicky accepted the crumbled dessert and smiled. “Thank you, but I think I’ll keep it for later.”
“Okay.” He shrugged.
“You were so good.” She set aside the snack before tucking him against her side. “I didn’t hear you one time. What did you do while I was sleeping?”
“I colored some pictures.”
Alex slid from the bed to gather the coloring books from the floor and brought them to her. His dark head dipped as he set the books on the mattress beside her knee. “Is the bad man gonna get us?”
Nicky’s heart lodged in her throat, and she hooked a fingertip under Alex’s chin to lift his face. “Oh, Alex. Where would you get an idea like that?”
Wide and wary, his eyes met hers. “Mr. McLean left us with Tim so he could go catch the bad man, but I don’t know if he did.”
Her eyes slid shut, and she gathered Alex into her arms. She rested her head on the top of his. “No, baby. I promise. He won’t get us.” Holding him close, she silently cursed the circumstances of life that had made her little boy more perceptive to danger than any child should be. “Don’t worry, okay?”
He nodded against her chest. “Are we gonna live here?”
She straightened, and though her heart pulsed with resentment for the circumstances thrust upon them, she brushed back his bangs. “No, we’re not going to live here. This is a motel. A place where people who are traveling can rest.”
“Where are we gonna live then?” His question didn’t accuse. He was merely curious.
Pain squeezed Nicky’s heart. It wasn’t right he expected to move more often than most people rearranged their furniture. “Well, that’s something we need to talk about. I kind of like the idea of staying in Flagstaff. What about you?”
“Stay?” His eyes went huge with excitement. “At our house?”
“Maybe
. We’ll have to see, but I like Flagstaff.”
“Me, too.” Alex grinned, and she pulled him into her lap.
“But there are some things I need to do before we can go home.” He waited patiently. “I spoke to Grace and Devin earlier. How would you like to spend some time at Maxwell Ranch?”
“With Drake?”
“And Simone.” Nicky laughed when he scrunched up his nose.
“She’s just a baby,” he complained. “I don’t even know her.”
Considering they hadn’t seen the Maxwells for almost two years, he didn’t exactly know six-year-old Drake either, but Nicky had told him stories of their time in Prescott, Arizona. He liked the idea of having spent time on a horse ranch even if he didn’t technically remember.
“That’s right.” She ruffled his hair. “I’m sure Drake told her all about you. She’s still little. You can help Drake keep an eye out for her.”
“I guess.” Alex’s words were given as a concession, but it was clear from the interest in his eyes that the idea of being an older, more responsible child intrigued him.
“Okay.” She gave him a quick squeeze. “Then you’d better let me up if we’re ever going to get there.”
Nicky reminded him once more not to answer the door, despite believing he wasn’t strong enough to maneuver the chair out from under the knob. After pulling a change of clothes from her duffel, she padded into the bathroom.
The shower revived her, which she needed if she was going to remain alert enough to drive for the next four or five hours. She still hadn’t had enough sleep, but staying in the New England town any longer was risky. Once the mall closed in a couple of hours, Tim’s stolen truck was bound to be noticed. She wanted to be far away when it was.
A childish revving and squealing tires greeted her when she came out of the bathroom. Alex sat with his legs folded under him in the middle of his bed as he maneuvered the tiny vehicles on imaginary roads.
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