“I have shirts in the bug-out bag. We just have to get to the car.”
I finished with Dan’s shoes. He reached for my hands to help me stand, but I shook my head, using the bed to pull myself up. He’d just hurt himself more, trying to help me. I stepped over to the wheelchair and pushed it closer. “Your chariot awaits. You can wrap yourself in a blanket until we get to the car. You don’t want to get the nurses all hot and bothered.”
Dan gave me an are-you-crazy stare. “The chair’s not for me. It’s for you.”
I returned his look, and raised him with a you’re-an-idiot glare. “Your ribs are fractured,” I said sharply. “You may have a concussion. I can’t catch you if you start to go down.”
“I’m not going to go down. I’ve dealt with worse injuries than this. And my ribs aren’t broken, they’re just bruised. I’m going to lean on the wheelchair, and you’re going to ride so it won’t look funny for me to be pushing it.”
“Or you could sit down, and let me roll you out of here, so you don’t have to worry about the need to lean on anything.”
The set of Dan’s jaw grew rigid. “I will not have my eight months pregnant wife pushing me in a chair.” His tone had gone hard and even more quiet. He glared at me, his expression implacable.
I glared back, unable to believe my relaxed, laid-back husband could be so pig-headed. Our escape was going nowhere fast. “How about a compromise? I’ll push you down to the elevators, and then we’ll switch drivers in the lobby. That way the nurses won’t wonder what the hell you’re doing exerting yourself.”
I thought Dan might break a tooth the way he clenched his jaw, and that he’d flat out refuse, but a few seconds later, he said, “Deal.” He tried to ease into the chair, but plunked down the last few inches, and I heard his sharp exhalation of pain.
I rolled my eyes but didn’t say anything. I wished I could ask Mark if all former soldiers were as bull-headed as Dan, or if it was just former Green Berets.
We waited until the coast was clear of nurses, then slowly made our way down the long hall toward the elevators. We left the door closed behind us, hoping that would delay the staff’s discovery of our absence. Every moment I expected someone to challenge us, to demand to know where I thought I was going with a man who was supposed to be resting in bed, but we made it into the elevator without incident.
I blew out a heavy breath of relief and leaned back against the wall.
Dan struggled to his feet and pointed to the seat. “Your turn.”
From the stiff way he held himself it was clear that his ribs were hurting him. I wanted to dig in my heels and make him ride the rest of the way, but a deal was a deal. I made a face and sat down, ignoring Dan’s smug expression.
I let him push me through the deep lobby, then made him sit while I went to bring the car around. Several minutes later, I had him in one of the shirts he’d packed and loaded into the passenger side.
I squeezed behind the wheel of Dan’s 1972 Mustang. I adjusted the seat, compromising between being close enough for my feet to reach the pedals and having enough room for my belly. “We’re going to need to buy another car,” I said, as I pulled out of the lot. “There’s no way I’m wrestling a baby into a car seat into the back of a sports car every day.”
Dan’s expression grew even more pained. “This car is a classic! We can’t get rid of it. What about your Corolla? It has four doors.”
“My Corolla is an old tin can on wheels. And it’s parked in front of our house.” The rest of that sentence, where the cameras are watching, didn’t need to be said.
“I’ll think about it,” Dan muttered, then turned to look out the window.
I drove for a several minutes, then as we neared the Five, I asked, “Where to? North, or east?” West was Hawaii, and not so easy to get to. Mexico was less than fifty miles south, but I wouldn’t exactly blend in there.
“East.”
East. He’d answered my question, but just barely. I made the appropriate lane changes and merged into traffic. We had the whole country in front of us now. We could be heading anywhere. To Gran in Pennsylvania, Jill in Albuquerque, my folks in Illinois, Ringo in Phoenix. But we couldn’t go to any of them. Kincaid would look for us there, and if he would arrange for Dan to be run down, he’d probably threaten our families too, to get to Evan.
I glanced over at Dan. He’d leaned back against the headrest and shut his eyes. The faint glow from the dashboard lights was enough to reveal the strain in his face. We had hours to go before I needed more information. I let him rest.
Three and a half hours later, we stopped in Yuma for gas and food. I’d pushed the fifty-five speed limit as much as I dared, but I hadn’t wanted to draw any attention from law enforcement. When we stepped into the bright lights of the McDonald’s I could see the pain etching Dan’s features, but I waited until we’d eaten before I said, “I think I need to call it a day.” He might not stop to rest for his own sake, but he’d stop for mine.
I braced myself for an argument, but he surprised me by saying, “Yeah, me too.” He sucked his milkshake dry. “Take 4th Street. We’ll stay at the Yuma Cabana.”
I regarded him with narrowed eyes. “You planned to stop here, in Yuma.”
Dan lifted one shoulder in an abbreviated shrug. “It was one of several options, depending on when we left, under what circumstances, and how you were feeling. Boy Scout, remember?” He wrapped an arm around his side. “I confess, though, I did not plan on having two fractured ribs.”
“I thought you said they were just bruised?” I accused.
Dan looked guilty. “That’s what the doctor said. But ‘fractured’ gets more sympathy than ‘bruised.’”
“Now you’re trolling for sympathy?” I shook my head. “Too late.” But I winced watching how stiffly he moved when he got into the car.
Several minutes later we were at the motel. We checked in, paying cash. Dan showed a fake I.D. that he’d taken from his bug-out bag. He raised a brow when I asked for two double beds.
“I’m tossing all night now. You don’t need to share that—not with your bruised ribs.”
He must have been feeling pretty bad, because he nodded and asked the gray-haired manager for help with our bags.
The accommodations were standard for a mid-range motel, with slump block construction, a small but clean bathroom and a Magic Fingers box on the night stand between the double beds. The not-standard feature was the sliding door that led directly to the parking lot. We had two ways out of the room if we had to leave in a hurry.
I piled up the pillows on one of the beds, then helped Dan ease back on them.
“Do you want help taking off your pants?”
“Too much like work.” His face was pale. I dug out a couple of Tylenol and handed him a glass of water. When he’d settled, I reached for the phone, but Dan caught my hand, pulling me down to sit on the bed beside him. “I’m sorry, kiddo. We can’t call anyone.”
“If we disappear without a word, my folks will worry. So will Janna, and Jill. We have to let them know we’re all right.”
“Later. They won’t start worrying for a couple of days.”
I knew he was right, but I still didn’t like it. A part of me recognized that it wasn’t his fault, but it felt like he was ripping every last bit of my life away from me. At this rate nothing would be left except him and the baby.
He must have seen the frustration in my face, because he conceded a little. “We’ll call them tomorrow from a pay phone. That’s harder to trace.”
I wondered if the Trust would already be monitoring the phones of our family and friends. But hell, they’d bugged our house, so why not the houses of our families? Bugging private property without a warrant might be illegal, but Foxworth had been friends with Reagan back when the actor had been governor. It only stood to reason that the various directors of the Trust would also have friends in influential positions. Kincaid and his cronies might be able to get away with anything.
/>
The reality of our situation crashed in on me. We were cut off from everyone we loved, and who loved us. We’d be constantly looking over our shoulders, as long as Kincaid wanted to control our child. All we had was each other. “How long will we have to hide?”
He shook his head slightly, and looked sorry that he had to admit bad news. “I don’t know.”
I felt my lip tremble as my eyes filled. I dashed the tears away, angry for feeling sorry for myself. Dan tried to pull me to him, but I resisted and put out a hand to stop him. “No! Your ribs. I don’t want to hurt you. I’m fine! It’s just hormones.”
He let me get away with that lie, and settled for rubbing his thumb over the back of my hand. “It won’t be forever.”
I sniffed and wiped away my tears. “I know.”
“Get some rest. Things will look better in the morning.”
I shot him a wry glance. “They can’t get much worse.”
I should have known better than to say that.
I slept fitfully, rolling from one side to the other, as I had for the last few weeks. It was nearly impossible for me to find a position that was comfortable for more than an hour. I felt huge, and I was so ready for this pregnancy to be over. Except now I wouldn’t be delivering in the hospital I’d toured, or be attended by the doctor I’d been seeing for the last eight months. When Evan decided it was time to make his appearance, he’d be doing it among strangers.
According to the clock, it was just after five in the morning when my eyes popped open for the umpteenth time. I gave up on sleep and rolled to a sitting position. A sliver of light from the parking lot showed around the edge of the curtain, and I could see that Dan’s eyes were closed and his breathing was steady. I was glad I’d insisted on the double beds.
A mild tingle washed over me. I almost didn’t recognize it for what it was, because for once this feeling wasn’t a warning of danger, as so many of late had been. This was just a “normal” premonition, one that suggested I should put my clothes on now, rather than wait.
The idea of getting dressed so early felt ridiculous, especially since I wanted to let Dan rest as long as possible. Instead I rubbed some lotion into my stretch marks. But the feeling grew more insistent, so I finally gave in and struggled into my maternity wear. As soon as I was dressed, the pressure eased—only to be replaced by a sense of expectancy.
I lifted the curtains aside to peek out at the graying sky, and jumped back with a squeak of surprise when I saw the dark silhouette of a man standing right outside the glass.
Dan awakened instantly. “What is it?”
It took me a second to answer. “There’s someone out there,” I said in a small voice, pointing to the sliding door.
Dan got to his feet quickly and silently, only the tightening around his eyes betraying his pain. He pulled his .45 out of his bug-out bag, and strode across the room. “Check the peephole,” he whispered, pointing to the other exit.
I crept up to the door and looked through the little lens, feeling as though anyone in the hall would be able to see me, too. “There’s no one there,” I whispered back.
A light tapping on the glass made us both hold our breath.
“Marianne! Let me in! It’s Barry.”
Dan and I looked at each other. Was he here on behalf of the Trust? How had he found us so quickly?
I shrugged. “Might as well let him in before he wakes up the other guests.”
Dan flipped the lock on the sliding door while I knelt and pulled the dowel out of the track. A second later, Barry was in the room, making sure the drapes were drawn. He looked from Dan, to me still kneeling on the floor. “I’m glad you’re dressed. We don’t have much time.”
“Barry, what are you doing here?” I asked.
“How did you find us?” Dan asked at the same time.
Barry’s glance touched on the weapon Dan held at his side. “Your car has a tracking device on it. A prototype that lets them locate you from a distance. When Marianne didn’t return home last night, the guys monitoring your house called the hospital to see if she was there, and found out you were missing. So they started tracking your car.” His brow furrowed as he looked at me sitting on the floor. “Do you need a hand up?”
I lifted both arms. “Please.”
He grasped my wrists and pulled me to my feet. His eyes widened as he recognized the effort required, but wisely, he didn’t comment on it. “I got the assignment to locate you and pull you back in, but I’m only the first of the team. The others will be here in less than an hour. You’ve got to go.”
“Why should we trust you?” Dan demanded.
Barry made a face. “If I wanted you caught, all I would have had to do is wait for the rest of my team. Besides, Marianne would have sensed some kind of warning if I meant you harm.” He looked back at me. “Did you?”
I looked at Dan and shook my head. “I only felt like I should get dressed.”
Dan considered Barry for a moment, then asked, “Can you remove the tracker?”
“That would take too long. I have a rental outside for you. You can drop me back at the agency where I left my car.”
“But the Trust will know it was you who helped us.” I protested.
“I know how to cover my tracks.” Barry’s half smile wasn’t quite humble. “Which reminds me, I have some new I.D.s for you, too.”
“Thanks, but we’re covered.” Dan tucked the gun in his waistband, and zipped up his bag. “But we’ll need some help with these.”
Barry picked up a bag in each hand and sidled out the door to the Cadillac Seville parked three slots down from the Mustang.
Dan pressed his lips together tightly as he stared for a moment at his blue convertible, then turned back to Barry. “Why are you helping us?”
“I’m not helping you, I’m helping Marianne.” Barry chewed on his answer for a moment, then met my eyes. “I don’t understand why you want to keep this baby instead of turning it over to Kincaid, but you do. I let you down before, and I don’t like the way that feels. Besides, I had a lot of respect for Foxworth, and I don’t like how Kincaid is changing everything around.”
Dan considered Barry’s explanation, then nodded. “Okay. But we’re not taking your car. I have another idea.”
Barry shifted the bags he held. “What’s the plan?”
“It’s better you don’t know.”
After Barry put our luggage in the Mustang Dan asked, “Do you want me to tie you up and stuff you in the Caddy’s trunk? So no one will suspect you helped us. I don’t mind.”
Barry responded with a tight smile. “Thanks. That very generous, but I’ll pass. I’ll just return the car and say you were gone by the time I got to the motel. They have no reason to doubt me.”
An hour and a half later, Dan and I were heading north on US 95, to Lake Havasu City in a rental we’d picked up downtown. We’d abandoned Dan’s Mustang in the long term parking at the Yuma International Airport, purchased two tickets to Toronto, then taken a taxi to the rental agency. We hoped it would take our pursuers a while to figure out we hadn’t gotten on the plane.
Before we left the airport we called Janna and Jill. The Trust already knew we were in Yuma, Dan explained, so even if they back-traced our calls, they’d have no more information about our location than they already had. And we wouldn’t be there much longer, anyway.
It was hard to keep our conversations brief. Janna and Jill were both confused and alarmed that “something had happened at work” that was bad enough that we were going to “keep a low profile” for a while. They wanted details, and were angry when we wouldn’t give them any. Janna tried to argue with me, but in the end, both of them agreed to call our other friends and family and reassure them that we were all right.
Ringo was more phlegmatic when Dan called him, and their conversation was short.
“I have a situation,” Dan said, as a greeting. Then his brows rose in surprise and he glanced at me for a second before saying, “Y
es.” Ringo said something, and Dan’s face clouded with anger. “No. And watch your mouth.”
I had a feeling I knew what Ringo had said, given his warning to me at the rehearsal.
“Someone wants me out of the picture,” Dan continued, “and I need you to take care of Marianne and the baby if they succeed.”
“What?” That was not what I’d expected Dan to say. I did not want to consider the possibility of him dying. Not again. Not so soon after almost losing him.
Dan raised his hand to quiet me so he could listen, and I bit my lips, fuming. He was going to get an earful when he hung up.
“Meet me at that pub we got drunk at last year. Four o’clock. I’ll explain then.”
Ringo must have asked, “Which one?” because Dan huffed a shallow laugh and answered, “The one where you fell in love with that bitch. Make sure you’re not followed.” Then he hung up.
Dan’s remark surprised me. I’d never heard him refer to a woman so rudely before, but then, guys said things to each other that they didn’t say to women.
“Come on. Let’s go.”
Launching into an argument about Ringo would be a great distraction from the anxiety shrouding us, but Dan’s expression was grim and strained. I wasn’t going to add to his worry for me by delaying our escape.
An hour later, Dan and I were racing north at sixty miles per hour through the bleakness of western Arizona.
I’d held my tongue as we caught the taxi and rented the car, then I’d been busy driving, watching to make sure no one was following us, and feeling bad that I’d put Janna in the uncomfortable position of having to tell my parents that I wouldn’t be calling them anytime soon. My folks would be out of their minds with worry. The news might have been easier to take coming directly from me, but it would have been too painful for all of us for me to refuse to tell them why I was doing this, and where I was going. It was better for Janna to call. She could honestly say she didn’t know anything.
Then I remembered Dan’s request of Ringo. My ire flared, and I embraced it. It was more comfortable to feel angry than guilty or afraid. I glanced at Dan. He was awake, and his color was much better than it had been yesterday. I reached over to turn the radio down. “I don’t need Ringo to take care of me,” I said without preamble.
Betrayed by Trust Page 18
