“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
Megan took a deep breath, feeling the adrenaline surge dissipate. “What were you doing? Were you trying to sneak out?”
“Please don’t tell anyone,” Sara said, the tears glinting in the bathroom light as they trailed down her face.
Megan shook her head, annoyed that Sara would put her in this position. “I have to tell my father.”
“No!” Sara began to cry. “I just wanted to see my brothers. I’m okay. I—I . . .” She stopped and took several breaths. “I didn’t leave the room. Nothing happened.”
Megan relented a bit, feeling guilty for her earlier irritation. “It will be okay. I’ll just tell him you tried to see Ricky and Neal. But Sara, you cannot do that. Don’t you understand? The only reason you are safe here is because no one knows you’re here. All it takes is for one person to see you and the whole cover’s blown.”
Sara jerked her arm away and stumbled over to her bed. Even burying her face under the pillow didn’t muffle her sobs.
Chapter Three
It was just a little after two in the morning when Agent Reynolds woke Jaci. She knew the time because she had checked the digital clock on the nightstand a few minutes before. No matter how she tried to sleep, her nerves were too taut to allow it.
“Come on,” he said, touching her shoulder. He moved to Sara next, gently shaking her. “It’s time.”
Jaci shook her head to clear the fog. They were leaving. Yesterday, their last day in the hotel, had been strangely silent. She couldn’t begin to imagine what came next. She leaned over and picked up the plastic sack that held her belongings.
Megan stirred when he woke Amanda. “Make sure you lock up behind us,” he said to his daughter.
“I will,” she murmured.
With their plastic sacks in hand, the girls stood behind Agent Reynolds while he undid the locks on the door. Jaci’s heart rate quickened in anticipation of finally leaving the hotel.
He checked the peephole one more time, and then swung the door open. He peered down the corridor before motioning the girls out. “We’ll take the stairs.”
Their room was on the third floor.
“What about the boys?” Amanda asked, blinking her eyes several times to clear them.
“Another agent is getting them.” He escorted the girls into the stairwell. “Let’s go quickly.”
A fifteen-passenger burgundy van waited in the parking garage at the bottom of the stairs. Dark tinting blocked the view of the interior. Agent Reynolds unlocked the van and started the engine. “Get in.”
Amanda climbed up. Footsteps sounded on the stairwell, and Jaci turned around. Agent Reynolds took up a protective position in front of them. Another man in a dark suit emerged, followed by Ricky and Neal. Jaci’s stomach flip-flopped, and she quickly dropped her eyes.
“Neal!” Sara clutched her brother when he reached her.
Ricky turned to Jaci. “Long time no see.”
“Yeah.” She tried a smile. “Are you guys okay?”
“Get in the van,” Agent Reynolds interrupted. “You can talk on the drive.”
Jaci’s hand brushed Ricky’s as she pushed past him. His fingers grabbed hers, squeezing them for a moment before letting her go. She shoved into a seat in the middle row. The van seemed uncomfortably hot. Sara sat down next to her, and Jaci scooted over to the window to make room.
Neal and Ricky joined Amanda in the back, and Agent Reynolds closed the door. He settled himself in the passenger seat with the other agent driving. The van moved, pulling out of the parking garage. Agent Reynolds faced the teens. “It’s a five-hour drive from here to Cincinnati. We should get there around seven in the morning. We won’t make any stops, so I brought a cooler with food it in it if anyone needs a snack.
“I’ll go with you to Ohio, but then I’ll leave you in the FBI’s custody while I join up with my family. This is Agent Banks.” The driver waved. “He’ll be your custodian. Any questions, ask him.”
Jaci waited, but when he didn’t offer any more advice, she leaned her head against the window and closed her eyes. They might not be going home yet, but each mile brought them a little bit closer to Shelley, Idaho.
When Jaci woke up, tiny rays of sunlight peeked through the gray cloud coverage in the October sky. It was raining. She breathed on the window and drew a circle inside the fog of her breath. A hint of her reflection stared back at her: brown, almond-shaped eyes and long dark hair pulled into a ponytail.
She was pretty sure in Idaho they would have snow, not rain. Jaci moved her head enough to see the time on the dash. A quarter after seven. They had to almost be there.
The van plodded down a quiet country road, then turned off the pavement onto a dirt path tucked into the trees. Jaci wondered what it was like to be in a safe house. How could it be safe? The Hand was still out there.
The quiet murmur of the FBI agents in the front of the van drifted back to her. Agent Reynolds turned around and surveyed them. His eyes met hers, a somber expression keeping his face grim. Jaci didn’t want to see the concern and pity behind the gaze. She turned her head and stared out the window again.
Two fingers touched her arm, and she looked at Sara. Tired circles still clung beneath her eyes, in spite of a few nights of good sleep. Jaci put an arm around her. “Are you okay?”
Sara’s head bobbed up and down.
The van pulled up to a large wrought-iron gate. Inside sat a red-brick rambler, the colors bright from the constant rainwater. Agent Banks rolled the window down and pressed in a code before swiping his badge. Jaci saw his profile in the side mirror, blue eyes flicking around the perimeter of the house. A thick unibrow shaded his face. The gate opened and the van rolled forward.
Bare bushes clung to the exterior. Reds and yellows in the trees matched the brick and made Jaci long for her own home.
Banks parked in the four-car garage and turned the engine off. He ducked his head and climbed out before unfolding to his full height of more than six feet.
“Come on,” Agent Reynolds said. He extended a hand to Sara and pulled her out.
The garage was empty of tools, bikes, cat food, and everything that cluttered hers. Two black, nondescript cars parked next to the van.
“Are we here?” Amanda’s groggy voice carried from the back of the van where she slept. She lifted her head.
“Yes,” Reynolds said, reaching in to help her. Ricky and Neal came last.
Banks spoke up, turning and walking up the steps to the door. “You’ll see the medical practitioner first. She’ll set you up a menu based on your nutritional needs. We want to get you into good shape.”
“I hope that doesn’t include exercise,” Amanda said. She turned to Ricky. “I hate exercise.”
Jaci would give anything to get to a track and run. Just run.
Banks entered the house first, leaving them on the steps with Reynolds. A moment later he returned. “Premises secured.”
Jaci fell in line behind him. Sara clung to her arm. Her tiny frame didn’t seem capable of holding up her head. Neal and Ricky flanked her like a pair of secret service agents.
The garage opened into a hallway that met up with the kitchen. A hint of vanilla wavered in the air. Banks went down the hall, his head nearly touching the top of the doorways. They followed him, crossing through a living room with blue carpet and gray couches. He tapped on an open door, and a woman stepped out.
“Yes?” she asked, and then she saw the teenagers. “Oh, they’re here. All right, you may go.”
“Hang on,” Banks said. He opened a hall closet and pulled out a combination-locked briefcase. Unlocking it, he handed each of them a plastic card on a lanyard. “These cards will get you through the basement door and your rooms. Swipe the barcode to let yourselves in.”
He passed out the cards and checked his watch. “We’ll have a late breakfast in about an hour. Then we’ll talk.”
“Everything will be fine now,” Reynolds said to them. He clapped Neal on the shoulder and then he and Banks continued down the hall.
Jaci wanted to run after them. Don’t leave us with this strange woman!
The woman peered at them over wire-rimmed glasses. “I’m Agent Combs. I’m a nurse practitioner.”
“Is this place the FBI headquarters?” Ricky asked.
“No. This is a private, unaddressed location used as a protection house for those in danger.”
“Ah.”
Jaci rubbed her thumb across her palm and cleared her throat. “Are we still in danger?”
“That is not a question for me to answer,” Combs replied, her voice aloof. She turned on her heel and went into the room.
Jaci glanced at Ricky and wrinkled her nose.
“Nothing like pulling out the welcome mat,” he said.
“Yeah, no kidding.” She cracked a smile, then exhaled and followed Combs. The four others came in behind her.
Agent Combs stood inside, hands on her hips. Her gaze landed on Neal and Ricky. “Boys.” She pointed out the door. “I don’t need you in here. Wait in the living room. There’s a TV and magazines.” Opening a closet, she pulled out three white robes and placed them over a chair. She turned her attention to the girls. “Undress and put these on. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” She closed the door.
Nobody moved. “Well, I guess we don’t really have anything to be embarrassed about, do we?” Jaci took her shoes off. She heard the rustling of clothing and knew her friends were also changing. She kept her eyes down and pulled her navy blue jacket over her head. Quickly she slipped the robe on and plopped herself into a plastic chair.
Sara sat on the examination table, kicking her feet, and Amanda sat in another chair. The counter was clear except for a metal tray and a sink. Behind the counter was another door.
“Oh my gosh, look at this,” Amanda said, grabbing a tube of nail polish off the tray. The sparkly red liquid clung to the sides of the jar as she tipped it around and examined it in the light.
Jaci looked down at her bare feet and curled her toes. Ugh. How horrid. She should have trimmed the nails at the hotel.
The acrid scent of alcohol filled the room as Amanda uncapped the polish. She spread a glossy veil of red over her toenail.
“Amanda. Don’t use other people’s things,” Jaci said, though she wasn’t very surprised.
Amanda shrugged, not even glancing up. “Who uses up all the contents of a bottle, anyway, before getting bored with the color and buying another?” She bent over her knees, straightening one leg in front of her and spreading her toes.
“Maybe it’s not for nails,” Sara said. “Maybe they use it to label things.”
“Maybe,” Amanda agreed as she slid the tiny brush over her misshaped toenails. “There’ll be plenty left over.”
The door opened and Amanda quickly capped the polish. She slipped it onto the counter and looked demurely at Agent Combs.
“Good, you’ve changed,” Combs said, putting three file folders on the counter. “Let’s get this examination done. If anything seems seriously amiss and beyond my skills, I’ll be informing the doctor. There’s a bathroom.” She pointed to the second door and looked at Sara. “How about you first, since you’re already on the table?”
“Okay. Do I just stay here?”
“Yes. I’m going to take a blood sample.”
They watched in silence as Combs tied a rubber tourniquet around Sara’s arm and then flicked her forearm with her fingers a few times. Sara looked away as Combs poked a needle into her vein and attached a vial to it.
She filled four vials with blood, and then pulled the needle out. Pressing a cotton ball to the vein, she stuck a bandage over it. “Brave girl.” She handed Sara a paper cup. “Now go in the bathroom and pee in the cup for me.”
Exciting, Jaci thought, moving out of the way for Sara to pass her.
Combs looked at Jaci. “Your turn.”
Jaci climbed up on the table and gritted her teeth. Just because she liked biology didn’t mean she wanted to be the pin cushion.
“Make a fist.”
She clenched her fist as Combs tied the rubber around her forearm. The needle bit through her flesh and she tried not to hold her breath.
“Done.” Combs untied the rubber band and handed her a paper cup.
Sara stepped out of the restroom and put the cup on the counter. Jaci stepped in. A light turned on when she closed the door. She came out and added her sample to the tray. “What are you looking for?”
“Ketones and glucose, protein, and hCG.”
“What are ketones and hCG?”
“Ketones are the byproduct your body produces when it burns fat for fuel. It’ll help us evaluate your food intake.”
“And hCG?”
“It’s a pregnancy hormone.”
Jaci watched as Combs finished pulling test strips out of her sample. “Do you always do a pregnancy test?”
“It’s standard procedure on teenage girls. Yours is negative, by the way. Sara.” Agent Combs removed Sara’s pH strips. “Yours is not.”
Chapter Four
As soon as the medical exams were done, Agent Combs took them downstairs to the bedrooms. The girls shared a large room with two bunk beds. A vanity with a double sink sat outside the bathroom, hotel-style.
“What about the boys?” Sara asked.
“They’ll be in the room next to yours.” Combs closed the door behind her, leaving them alone.
Jaci sank down on the bottom bunk closest to the door, examining their sterile room. White carpet, white sink, white sheets, white cinderblock walls. The only color came from the thick, multi-colored blankets at the foot of each bed.
Amanda stopped in front of the vanity and picked at her teeth. “Look, guys. New toothbrushes!” She turned around, brandishing them, still wrapped in plastic.
Jaci didn’t respond. At least they’d survived the exams. All of them were thin and malnourished, but otherwise healthy, according to Combs.
Except for Sara.
“Sara.” Jaci watched her, standing at the entrance to the room, staring at the bed. “Are you okay?”
Sara shot her a glare, and instantly Jaci felt like an idiot. What a dumb question.
Sara lowered herself onto the mattress beside Jaci and dropped her head between her legs. “I don’t feel so well.”
“Why don’t you take the bottom bunk? I’ll be right above you.”
She looked up, her eyes red. “No. I like the top more.” Sara put her head down again.
“Well.” Amanda heaved a sigh and crossed the room. “Nothing else to do. Let’s go upstairs.” She opened the door and paused. “Coming? It’s time to eat, you know.” She glanced at her watch, the same watch she had had when they left Idaho.
“Yeah.” Jaci stood up. Amanda had been unusually nice since the rescue, and Jaci hoped she would stay that way. “I’m hungry. Sara?”
Sara heaved herself up and walked out in front of them.
“Moody much?” Amanda murmured.
A door blocked off the main floor. Jaci pulled out her lanyard and tried the card Agent Banks had given her. The door whirred and then clicked.
“Nice.” Amanda pulled it open.
Agents Banks and Reynolds sat at the table, eating a late breakfast that looked more like a lunch. Tin containers cluttered the counter, as well as paper plates and utensils.
“Who cooks?” Jaci picked up a plate and spooned barbecued pork on top of a roll. Her stomach rumbled in anticipation.
“Caterer,” Banks said. “Delivers once a week whe
n the safe house is in use. We just heat it up.”
“Ah.” She added a spoonful of potato salad and sat down next to him. Tilting her head, she peered at Reynolds, who read a magazine next to Neal, a cleaned plate in front of him. “Agent Reynolds,” Jaci said, “I have a favor to ask.”
He put the magazine down and focused on her. So did everyone else, which unnerved her. She swallowed. “You don’t have to; you’ve already done so much for us.”
“Ask,” he replied.
“Shelley isn’t too far from Montana.” Jaci hoped she sounded calm and reasonable, not desperate. “If you are ever going that way—would you go see my family? Our families?” she added, looking at Sara and Amanda. “Since we can’t, anyway.”
“I will make it a point.” Reynolds stood up and cleared his plate. “I have appointments tomorrow and need to go soon if I’m going to make it back to Montana in time.” He stopped at the head of the table. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”
Neal stood up and offered his hand, which Reynolds took in a firm handshake. “No, sir. We can’t thank you enough for rescuing us.”
“You did a fine job of watching out for them. I’m certain you would’ve held everyone together until help came.”
“I have my doubts,” Ricky muttered.
Jaci wanted to give Agent Reynolds a hug. Instead, she nodded her concurrence. “Thank you.”
Sara and Amanda echoed the sentiment, and with that, Reynolds stepped into the garage and disappeared from sight.
Agent Combs came into the kitchen and popped open the fridge. “My replacement here?” she asked, oblivious to the somber mood in the room. She pulled out a jug of apple juice.
“Not yet,” Banks said. “We’ll let you know when she gets here.”
Altercation Page 2
