He needed to stop thinking about kids and Sara. Get his mind back on track. Mission focused. He had a major case to crack and less than sixty-five hours left now to do it. Hopefully, the car would be at the drop point early so they could get back on the road. Sitting still felt like being fish in a barrel waiting to be shot. And Sara wasn’t a trained agent but doing something that’d be hard even for someone who was. Holding a cover and staying calm when under duress was stressful.
Sara could handle herself, though. He was sure of it.
But he couldn’t shake the fear that something could go very, very wrong in that diner.
Chapter 11
Sara sucked in a deep breath, told herself she could do it, and opened the diner’s glass door. Blasted instantly with the enticing aroma of bacon, eggs, waffles—and was that apple pie and caramel she smelled too? Her mouth watered like one of Pavlov’s dogs when hearing its bell. She did love a hearty breakfast.
Her stomach quickly forgot about that sweet pastry she’d had earlier and grumbled its message that a few pancakes never hurt anyone. Especially like the ones the man had who sat at the first booth, with apples, caramel, and whipped cream piled high on top. Like breakfast and dessert all rolled up in one.
The diner was decorated for the holidays with life-sized elves in one corner and a tree with presents in another. The windows all had snow scenes, kind of ironic but adorable in the desert. And the stools at the soda counter had garland wrapped around the poles. It made her heart happy. Christmas always did.
But she had a job to do, so she stepped farther into the festive diner, half-full at the early hour, and headed for the hallway that led to the bathrooms. A small TV in the corner quietly played an old movie her mother had starred in. The banner running below said the station was going to run all of her mom’s movies until Sara was found.
It sent a wave of pride to her heart that her mom was so beloved they’d do something so sweet. But it also was a reminder of how many people outside of California knew of her supposed kidnapping.
Was the movie playing a good omen? Or a bad one, since she looked like a tiny, less voluptuous version of her mom. Usually. Maybe not so much with blonde hair and no makeup after she’d washed her face at the rec area.
A female voice called out, “Want some coffee to get you started?”
It’d look bad if she didn’t stop.
Sara turned and headed toward the counter where a young blonde girl, probably high school aged, flipped over a coffee cup atop a paper placemat. Sara’s feet wanted to run again, but she forced herself to stroll to the rows of red stools lined up and sat. Working up a softer version of the accent she’d laid on Brent earlier, she said, “Thank you. Just black please.”
“You got it.” As the girl poured, she studied Sara. “You seem familiar. Have we met?”
Bile rose in Sara’s throat as she shook her head. “Nope. Just passing through for the first time.” She cleared the blockage away from her throat and pointed to the sign above the restrooms. “Does there happen to be a pay phone back there? My cell died.”
The girl, whose nametag read “Rayne,” shook her head. Her long earrings hanging from multiple piercings dinged like wind chimes as they crashed against each other. “I don’t think we have any of those in town. The only phone we have here is locked in the owner’s office. He’s not due in today.”
Sara’s hopes crashed. Why else was she supposed to be in the diner? Maybe there were more diners with three neon cactuses along the way? Before Sara could figure out what to do, the waitress said, “I’d loan you my cell, but my dad caught me texting a guy late last night and took it away. For an undetermined period.” The kid rolled her eyes.
“Sorry. It’s nice you’d offer, though,” Sara twanged in response as her mind whirled with possibilities. Surely someone else in the diner had a cell she could borrow. But then, they’d have Jake’s number. If her cover got blown, she didn’t want to get Jake in trouble.
When the front door opened, Rayne glanced toward it and scowled. “Well, look who’s here. It’s as if just by speaking of my poor phone, we conjured him up.”
Expecting to see the boy Rayne had been texting, Sara glanced over her shoulder. Her heart skipped a beat. Not in a wow-he’s-a-handsome-guy kind of way, though.
An older, tall, thin cop walked toward her. Had Will and Ester stopped off at the police station and turned them in after all?
Might be the perfect time to use the restroom. Maybe she could sneak out the window like people always did in the movies.
She threw a five-dollar bill down first, though. She didn’t want to stiff the kid, especially with her cop daddy approaching fast.
Just as Sara slipped off her stool to make a run for it, Rayne said, “Keep your money. The coffee’s always free. Wait! My dad will know if there’s a pay phone in town.”
Rayne’s dad, the cop, made steady eye contact with Sara. His gaze laser-focused on her face as his eyes scanned her features. She could practically hear his mind filing away her stats. Five-four, brown on blonde. Caucasian, sloppy dresser.
Would her disguise hold up under direct scrutiny?
Her heart pounded so hard, Sara was sure Rayne and her father could see her pulse pumping at the base of her throat. Cops were trained to spot liars, and she was a big fat one at the moment.
Hearing her mom’s voice on the television, Sara glanced up in time to see her mother smile. It wasn’t the smile she beamed whenever she saw one of her kids. Those were exclusively for Sara and Dani. Instead, it was her I’m an enchantress, and I can make anyone do my bidding smile.
Sara had learned the craft of acting pretty much by osmosis, living her whole life with two of the best. Helping them run lines when no one else would.
Time to grow a pair and look confident. Like her mother always did no matter how nervous she felt.
Channeling the great Annalisa Botelli, and her best Southern belle character, Sara lifted her chin, threw her shoulders back, and slowly stuck out her hand to the cop. “Nice to meet you, sir. Eloise Jackson. Would you know if there are any pay phones nearby?”
The officer’s forehead crumpled as he shook her hand. “Let me think for a second.” He dropped her hand and laid both of his on his utility belt. One that packed a radio, pepper spray, handcuffs, and a super-intimidating .45 Glock.
She wished she’d left her .38 somewhere else other than on her person. Could complicate things if he apprehended her.
The policeman snapped his fingers. “There is one. At the Quick and Go.” He threw a thumb over his shoulder. “’Bout two blocks behind us. On Third Street.”
“Thank you both so much. Have a good day.” Sara smiled and slowly glided as gracefully as her mom would have toward the door. Although, her mom would never be caught dead in public wearing yoga pants and a man’s hoodie. Or with a .38 tucked behind at her lower back. Sara hoped the cop wouldn’t notice that the most.
Just as her hand landed on the door and she was seconds from making her run for it, the cop called out, “Hold on a second, miss.”
Crap. Had he made her?
She could run. But to where? At least Brent would have a chance to get away if she said she was alone. It was the right thing to do. He’d do the same for her.
She just hoped to God she’d get her one phone call to her mother before they turned her over to the California cops. That was where the pay phone probably was. The police station.
She was going to need some help to convince the California police that their top man was crooked.
Resigned, Sara slowly turned around to face her fate.
The cop stood a foot away. “Hold out your hands for me.”
To put the handcuffs on. Dammit. Would he believe her if she told him the whole story? He had kind eyes, so maybe?
She slowly lifted her hands, both palms up, waiting for the cold slap of metal on her wrists.
The cop took both her wrists in his big hand and then dropped a pile of quarter
s into her palms. “Rayne changed out your five. You’ll need these to make your call. Have a good one.”
Sara nearly cried tears of joy as she stared at the stacks of quarters in her hand. Pulling herself together was a monumental task, but she finally said in a whispery voice, “You’ve both been so very kind. Thank you.”
Just as she turned to go, the radio on the cop’s belt squawked. The dispatcher said, “Mitch, Sam wants you to head out to the campgrounds. Check out a Mercedes on the day side. CA PD’s looking at it for the Chapman kidnapping.”
Sara didn’t wait to hear what the cop replied. She strolled through the door and across the street, forcing herself to walk. Not to break out in a full run until she was out of sight of the diner. Then she ran like hell to find Brent. No time to call Jake anymore.
Brent parked the older blue Jeep Rick had left for them at the park near the playground, grateful the car had been in place at the drop-off point earlier than planned. That Rick had filled the glovebox with condoms showed his pal still had a sick sense of humor. He’d also stocked the Jeep with camping supplies, water, and some food for the trip.
Everything they’d need if they had to stop for the day like Rick suggested to avoid detection from the air, but that wasn’t what Brent wanted to do. The clock hadn’t stopped ticking closer to the deadline his boss had imposed, so he hoped to drive straight through to Albuquerque.
He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel of the beat-up 4x4 with a faded hard top, impatient to get going again. It took all his willpower to stay put. He wanted to check on Sara, but it was best if they weren’t seen together.
He glanced at the kids playing across the park, closely observed by their parents. He couldn’t stay long without looking like a creepy guy spying on little kids, so he scooped Mittens up and found a bottle of water. “Time to stretch your legs, kitty.”
He found her bowl and walked with the cat to a bench. He filled her water bowl then set the cat on the wooden seat beside him. Mittens ignored the bowl of water and headed straight for the playing children. He couldn’t afford to let anyone else see his face, so he caught up with the cat and lifted her up again. “No, you don’t.”
He sat on the bench again to wait, glancing toward the diner down the street every minute or so while he petted the cat. The next time he glanced up, Sara was running toward him at full speed.
Dammit. Something must have gone wrong.
He slowly stood, stretched, and picked up Mittens’ water bowl. Strolling to the car with the cat tucked under an arm, he glanced Sara’s way again. She tilted her head toward the Jeep in a “hurry up” gesture. But he wasn’t going to appear alarmed, even if she looked as though she’d just stepped on a venomous snake.
He opened the car door, placed Mittens in the back, and then sat and started the engine. When the passenger side door flew open, Sara said, “Go! Now!”
“Is someone chasing us?”
“Not yet. Just go. Please, Brent.”
“So, someone will be chasing us?” He put the car in gear and headed toward the highway, mindful of the speed limit.
“They might. I can’t believe how many freakin’ cops are around here. It’s unnatural!” Sara swiveled her body to check behind them.
He wanted to ask a million questions but needed her to calm down enough to tell him the threat level first. “Deep breaths. Did someone recognize you?”
Sara turned toward the front again and closed her eyes. “Not per se.”
She recounted what happened in the diner. Not good. The police would run the plates and figure out the Mercedes was Annalisa’s car. They maybe had an hour head start if they were lucky. Should they stop at a campground and wait until dark to travel?
Sara sighed. “I started out walking calmly, but then… I screwed up by running, didn’t I?”
He laid his hand on her thigh and gave it a reassuring pat. “We’re good. Don’t sweat it.” Although the chances the cop would realize he’d been talking to Sara had significantly risen. Especially after he found out the car just a few miles away was Annalisa’s.
Sara closed her eyes again and shook her head. “I thought the cop had recognized me for sure. My first instinct was to run. But then I didn’t want to lead them to you. I was going to tell them I was alone, then maybe you’d have a chance. If we get separated and one of us gets caught, that should be the plan. Right?” She intertwined her fingers through his.
It moved him that she would’ve lied to the cops for him. As far as she knew, he was in as much danger as she was. It was a selfless act. No one had ever done anything so heroic for him. Sara had put a crack in what his buddies called his “cynical nature.”
But he still had a job to do. “If I get caught, then you should keep moving. But if you get caught, I need for you to tell them where I am.”
She frowned at him. “Why would you want that?”
He wanted to confess who he was so bad. Especially when she clasped his hand tight, her complete trust in him evident. He’d never hurt Sara on purpose. But it couldn’t be helped—she was going to feel betrayed when she found out the truth. “Because your mom would want me by your side if we have to deal with Miller and his men. You said she’s never wrong, right?” He hated to use Sara’s misconception about his role, but it was for the best.
“I guess.” Sara slipped her hand from his. “Let’s just hope we don’t get separated.” She pulled out a pile of quarters from her jacket pocket and reached for the glovebox.
Before he could stop her, she flipped it open. A slow smile lit her face as she dumped the quarters inside. “My mother will be so proud when I tell her we traded her ninety-thousand-dollar car for this beat-up old Jeep and a glovebox full of condoms. That’s a deal no one in their right mind would ever pass up.”
He’d kill Rick when he saw him next. “And camping gear, water, MREs and a ten-gallon extra can of gas strapped to the back. I drive a hard bargain.”
“Clearly.” Sara turned around and scanned the contents of the rear while she petted Mittens. “What are MREs?”
“Meal, Ready-to-Eat. Just add water. They’re not bad.”
Sara squeezed between the seats to investigate, her rear end level with his eyes, so he forced himself to concentrate on the road ahead. After rummaging around, she sat in her seat again and studied the plastic package in her hands. “No way. This pack has individually wrapped meatloaf, mashed potatoes, garlic bread, peach cobbler, a spork, napkin, wet towelette, gum—because of the garlic bread, no doubt—and even a flameless ration heater. You must’ve made a deal with a horny survivalist.”
He smiled. If Sara only knew that it had been her amorous dance partner at the wedding who’d ordered up the stocked Jeep. “We aren’t going to talk details about the car swap, remember?”
“Right.” Sara tossed the package onto the backseat. “We still need to find a pay phone to call Jake. Will we have to stop for gas now that you so expertly negotiated the extra can of it back there?”
“Maybe not. We’ll see. It’ll be close.”
She nodded then glanced behind them again as if expecting to see a police cruiser closing in. “Did you ask for all that camping gear, or did it just come with the car?”
“I asked. We need to decide if we’ll find a campsite for the day and travel at night, or if we want to drive straight through. Now that they’ll find your mom’s car soon, it might be better to lay low just outside Phoenix.”
Sara chewed her thumbnail as she pondered. “Can I ask just one question about the car swap?”
“Negative.” He took the exit that would take them to the freeway to cross Phoenix the fastest. The plate scanners wouldn’t be a problem anymore, but if the cop figured out he’d been speaking with Sara and he asked the people in the park to describe their ride, they might be in trouble. “What do you think about the campground? Do we stop, or do we risk it and keep driving?”
“The waitress thought I looked familiar. And the television station she’s wa
tching was running a marathon of my mother’s movies. If they show my picture during the break and Rayne recognizes me, she’ll tell her father for sure.”
“Stopping could go either way, but no one would expect us to do that.” He reminded himself he was supposed to be part of a team, so he asked, “What do you think?”
“I don’t know.” She glanced over her shoulder again. “There’s only one sleeping bag back there. Is that your lame attempt to get me to have sex with you on the hard floor of a tent?”
“No.” Damn Rick. Payback was going to be a bitch. “The guy only had one bag, but if you’d like to have sex with me, I could be on the bottom. More comfortable for you that way,” he teased.
“Well, if you make love to a woman as well as you kiss…” She turned and stared out her window. “Maybe I’ll think about it.”
Was she serious? Really considering sleeping with him? Or just joking?
He shouldn’t consider it. She was involved in his case. He was an agent, not allowed to sleep with witnesses. He’d lose his job. And the house on the water. He’d never give up his dreams for a quick roll in a tent.
But would he risk it to be with Sara? Even if it was only just one time?
Below his belt screamed yes, but above his shoulders advised to cool his jets.
It’d been a while since he’d been with a woman.
The jet noise was deafening.
Chapter 12
Sara stared out the window as she and Brent drove in silence on a congested highway through Phoenix. He stayed exactly the speed limit, ignoring the cars zooming past them.
Crossing Double (A Heartbreaker Novel Book 3) Page 12
