Capturing Sosimo

by Sara Blackard

  “Okay, yeah. You’ve got me beat.” She turned in a circle, an awestruck look upon her face. “I love it here. I wish we had time to explore.”

  “Me too.” Sosimo pointed to a waterfall that snaked a thin trail down the mountain. “Maybe after things settle down.” His brain skidded to a halt as she gazed up at him and bit her lip. “That is, maybe you can come after things settle.”

  Her face fell slightly before she pasted on a smile and nodded. “I’ll have to look into it.”

  He pointed to the Red Mountain Brewery. “How does that sound?”

  “As long as they have a big juicy burger and crispy fries, I’m in.”

  Sosimo pulled the door open for her and motioned her in. The smell of fried food and cheerful talking assaulted his senses, waking him up to his idiocy. He couldn’t forget that this was a job, and she was a client. Besides, no matter how down-to-earth or beautiful she was now, she was part of the tangle that kept his mind spinning. There were too many sides to Reagan MacArthur that made little sense, too many inconsistencies that whispered she wasn’t divulging all the truth. Liars always left him with a gritty feeling that rubbed him raw. Falling for one would inevitably pour salt in the wound.

  June stared out the window at the passing scenery and bemoaned the fact that they had left the Rocky Mountains behind for the New Mexican desert. She could happily stay in the mountains forever. Maybe because it reminded her of when her father had been stationed in Germany and her brother was still alive. As a family, they’d traveled the mountains and small European villages almost every time her father didn’t have to work. Even though they hadn’t been there long, it held some of her happiest memories.

  She peeked over at Sosimo where he strummed his fingers to the pop rock music playing on the radio. Maybe her desire to retreat to the rocky peaks and deep valleys had more to do with the vibrant man beside her than the ghosts of happiness from her past. The churning of her stomach and the tightening of her chest eased when he neared. She shouldn’t layer emotion onto simple words, but when he’d said he didn’t hate her, that his anger was for the men and not her, all the tension had drained out of her into the fancy bathroom tiles, seeping through the grout.

  She looked back out the window at the monotonous tan landscape flashing by. Just because he didn’t hate her, didn’t mean he felt anything else beyond a sense of duty. He’d barely said more than ten words since they’d eaten lunch in Ouray. The lack of communication wasn’t awkward, just silent.

  She was just a part of his job, and she needed to remember that.

  Convincing her brain to stop replaying the image of him reading a story to Eva to calm her after the bomb, or the feel of his arms tight around her as she bawled her eyes out, was next to impossible though. And she needed to stop inhaling the spicy scent filling every inch of the cab that somehow made her nerves relax and her heart rate increase at the same time. The mixed signals her body kept reporting to her brain just might short-circuit it, leaving her an incompetent fool.

  Geesh. It wasn’t like him holding her had been romantic in any way. Talk about an embarrassing moment. She cringed. Why did he have to catch her tossing her cookies? If only her emotions weren’t so tied to her gut. Oh, to handle emotional situations without the bubbly feeling threatening to erupt. Since she’d been that way through the upheavals of her childhood, it probably wouldn’t be changing soon.

  She grabbed the bag of Swedish Fish she’d bought at the last gas stop and popped one in her mouth. She’d have to remember to get more snacks next time they gassed up. Sosimo must be a robot or something, not requiring food on a regular basis to operate. She remained more a feast or famine type of person. When her brain ran nonstop, simple things like eating went out the window. Any other time, she’d fit in well with the hobbits.

  “Why don’t you search for a low-key place to stay?” Sosimo’s voice startled her as he pointed at the billboard on the side of the road. “We’re almost to Tucumcari.”

  “Okay.” She pulled up lodgings on her phone. “Low-key?” She slid her finger along the screen, scanning through the options.

  “Not someplace with many people. See if you can find an older motel or something.”

  She smiled when a picture of the Blue Swallow Motel came up. It was charming in a Cars cartoon sort of way. Though with her luck, it’d probably end up more like Psycho. She ignored the shiver that raced up her body and called the motel.

  “All right. We have a room at the Blue Swallow.”

  Sosimo scowled, and his hands tightened on the steering wheel.

  The Swedish Fish twisted and flopped in her belly, like it always did when she disappointed people. “You want me to find a different place?”

  Too bad the money she made from that first invention couldn’t have bought her some confidence when it came to dealing with people. In some situations she could fake it, especially when in a crowd or if it involved her inventions. One-on-one revealed a different story, making her doubt every word and action.

  She blamed it on the constant moving as a child that had drained her, causing her to spend all her time buried in books and tinkering instead of making new friends. What was the point when she’d have to make fresh ones in a few years anyway? In hindsight, that probably wasn’t the best mode of operation since the only person she now considered a friend was her assistant Mandy. Could she even count someone as a friend when she paid them?

  “That should work. I don’t like the sound the truck is making.” He checked the rearview mirror. “It’s been whining at me since we left the ranch.”

  “Your truck talks to you?” She wondered at the tinge of pink that rose up the back of his neck and leaned her back against the door to observe him better.

  “Don’t your inventions speak to you, tell you when something isn’t right?” He turned his attention to her, his deep brown eyes boring straight to her soul.

  A tingling sensation hit her nose. She gulped and nodded. No one had ever understood that about her.

  He shrugged and turned his attention back to the road. “It’s the same with me and motors. They tell me what’s wrong, and I fix them. They are just about the only thing I can understand.” His cheek muscle jumped as he clenched his teeth and cleared his throat.

  “Well, it looks like we have something in common. Not sure if having inanimate objects speaking to us is necessarily a good trait to share. Most just find that weird.” She gripped her phone and groaned. “Not that I find you weird or anything. I’m the weird one—me and my enormous mouth. Are you hungry? I’m starving. It looks like there are a couple of places within walking distance of the motel.”

  She swiped her finger on the screen, wishing she could escape. Being stuck in a truck with little more than two feet separating her from the sexiest man alive—yes, People magazine got it wrong—was detrimental to her language processing system. Not that she’d had much of a system to begin with.

  He stopped at a streetlight and looked at her. His eyes shone as he gazed at her, a slow smile building on his face. The air became thick. She licked her parched lips, and his gaze darted to them.

  “Oh sí, tengo hambre.” His accent came out thick. “Very hungry.”

  He swallowed as the light changed green and turned east onto Route 66. Just what kind of kicks did this route have in store for her? They sped up and a loud growling noise startled her out of her silliness. She peered through the back window as if she could see the problem.

  “Ay, caray.” Sosimo’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. “Where’s this motel?”

  “Less than half a mile up on the left.” June scanned the street for the sign. “There.”

  They pulled into the motel just as a loud pop sounded. Sosimo muttered under his breath as he turned sharply into an empty parking spot and braked. He sat back with a huff and pushed his fingers through his hair.

  “I think the rear end just blew.” He pulled on his hair before shoving the door open. His frustration ebbed off h
im in waves.

  He slammed the door, and she jumped. She yanked her vest on as she climbed out of the truck. When she got to the rear of the bed, he knelt beside the tire with his head under the truck.

  She crouched next to him and peered at the undercarriage, not sure what she looked at. “Well?”

  “We’re leaking fluid on the differential.” His words were as foreign as his Spanish.

  “Can you fix it?”

  “No. Not here.” He brushed his hands together to get the dirt off and stood with a huff. “Let’s get checked in and find someplace to eat. There’s not much we can do about it tonight.”

  She nodded and followed him to the motel office. She only blushed a little when he signed them in as John and Sue Hernandez. She pushed the fuzzy feeling aside that seeing her newest fake I.D. connected to his had caused, and enjoyed the charismatic motel.

  The place held a nostalgic charm that had her smiling as she surveyed the surrounding businesses. The sun sat low on the horizon and the neon signs blinked on. Her step lightened as they crossed to the cute little salmon-colored building. What a splendid place to break down.

  Six

  Of all the places to break down, this had to be one of the worst. Sosimo pushed open the bright blue door to the room and cringed. The hotel had squeezed the two beds into the stamp-sized room. At least there were two beds.

  Reagan gasped. “How quaint.”

  She smiled as she pushed past him into the room. That was one way to put it. He tossed his bag onto the bed closest to the door before she could and rolled his shoulders. She practically climbed over the second bed to peek into the bathroom. His tight chest released its tension at her excitement.

  She chuckled as she set her stuff on the other bed. “I love it. Makes me feel like I stepped back in time.”

  “Let me go grab the rest of our gear and then we’ll scrounge up some grub.” He closed the door before she could reply and stomped to the truck.

  He should’ve known better than to take the ancient thing, but the cinnamon brown and tan pickup reminded him of his youth fixing vehicles with his uncle. He’d hoped it would keep them under cover, but it turned into a big pain in his butt. He pulled out his phone to check in with Zeke, calling him on the secure line.

  “Sos, how’d it go?” Zeke’s lack of greeting and tone fit Sosimo’s sullen mood perfectly.

  “Fine. We made it to Tucumcari, New Mexico.”

  “Good.”

  “The truck blew a bearing. I’ll have to find some other transportation.”

  “Your cards don’t have limits and can’t be traced back to you, Reagan, or the company, so get what you need.”

  Sosimo nodded even though Zeke couldn’t see him. “Is everyone all right there?”

  “We haven’t had any more threats, and the false trail went perfectly.”

  “Let’s hope they just gave up.” Sosimo grabbed the last of the bags from the back of the truck and headed toward the room.

  “Wishful thinking.” Zeke huffed, a tapping noise coming over the phone, which meant he clicked his pen in frustration.

  “Anything else going on?” The tightness in Sosimo’s chest had returned.

  “Samantha left.” His friend’s sadness leached through the phone and settled in Sos’s gut.

  “Ah, man. I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t blame her, not really.” Zeke cleared his throat. “Cars blowing up in the yard is a big catalyst to breaking up.”

  Sosimo didn’t know what to say. His own heart broke at never seeing Eva, his little bubble of happiness, again. He couldn’t imagine the anguish that Zeke must be going through.

  “Maybe you can go talk to her, let her know that doesn’t happen often?” He grabbed at straws.

  “Not sure if that would help.”

  “Might be worth a try.”

  “Maybe.” Zeke’s voice trailed off. “Listen. Good job at getting Reagan out of here. Rafe has been digging all day, hasn’t come out of his cave downstairs. This problem she has runs deep. Much deeper than we first imagined. He’s having trouble untangling all the roots, but as soon as we find something, we’ll let you know.”

  “Great. Thanks for the update.”

  “He also set up blocks on her phone to bounce the location around, but he says it’s not fail-proof.”

  “I’ll just take hers from her, keep it simple.”

  “Taking a phone from a woman could be dangerous.” Zeke chuckled, then sobered. “Keep low, Sos. My gut’s not liking this one.”

  “Copy that. I’ll let you know when we get back on the road.”

  Sosimo ended the call and pushed open the hotel room door.

  “I’ll keep you posted.” Reagan had her phone smashed between her shoulder and her ear as she braided her hair. “Bye.”

  She leaned over the bed, letting the phone drop to the comforter. She twisted a rubber band around her thick braid, her smile fading as she glanced at him.

  “Everything okay?” Her forehead got that crease it did when something concerned her.

  “Who was that?” His voice came out gruffer than necessary. Maybe he needed to find some food before he opened his mouth again.

  “Adam.” She cleared her throat. “Colonel Adam Johnson. He’s my contact at the SEP. I was letting him know we are on the way.”

  “No contacting anyone from here on out. Not until we get some answers.” He dumped the bags on the floor and dug through them, pulling out a burner phone. “In fact, we need to keep your phone off so they can’t trace it.”

  He crossed the few steps it took to get to her phone, dropped the extra one down, and picked up hers.

  “What? Wait! I’ve known Adam my whole life. He’s one of my father’s best friends.”

  Why did he feel such relief that Adam was her father’s age? It shouldn’t matter to him. It did, though, a lot.

  “Doesn’t matter. Until we figure out how they tracked you to the ranch, we go dark, only contacting the team for updates.” He turned her phone over in his hands to power it down.

  She snatched it from him. “At least let me copy my important contacts down. It’s not like one minute will matter if they’ve already got us pinged.”

  Her words slid ice down his spine. He should’ve thought of that earlier. Hopefully Rafe’s scrambling of their phones worked. He wouldn’t take any chances. He strapped on a holster around his ankle and a hidden knife sheath on both forearms.

  “Okay, Rambo, is all that necessary?” She tossed her phone into his bag and crossed her arms.

  “Well, these guys are willing to blow up an innocent woman to get to you. So, yeah, I think it’s necessary.” He looked up from tightening the last strap on his arm just in time to see her chest heave. He was such a jerk.

  “Can we eat now?” She cocked her eyebrow.

  “Come on. Let’s go.”

  He held out his hand, and she tentatively placed her shaking palm in his. His fingers tingled with the contact like he’d connected wires wrong on an electrical manifold. The compact room shrunk in on him. He threaded his fingers with hers and squeezed her hand.

  “You stay close to me, right on my side like glue, okay? Remember, we’re a happy couple.”

  She nodded, and he pulled her to the door. They strode casually down the street, his heart thumping in his throat. He couldn’t tell if it pumped hard from the possibility of a threat lurking around the corner or how right it felt with Reagan close. Either way, both possibilities were dangerous.

  The next morning, Sosimo scanned the car dealer lot, looking for a vehicle to travel across country in. He’d called Cooper the night before to let him know they wouldn’t make it to Amarillo until the morning. Hopefully, car shopping wouldn’t take long.

  He pulled his jacket tighter around him in the chilly autumn air. It probably didn’t matter what they got, but he wanted something that wouldn’t put him in a worse mood. Too bad his crankiness lay firmly on his shoulders.

  Lying awake all
night, watching Reagan sleep, worrying about keeping her safe, hadn’t done him any favors. Not with how her long braid had snaked over her shoulder, tempting him to unwind it and run his fingers through her hair. There he went again, contemplating things he should leave alone. He scowled as he surveyed the cars before him, finding nothing that he wanted to spend countless hours in.

  “What about that?” Reagan grabbed his hand and pointed toward the back of the lot. “Come on. Let’s check it out.”

  He dragged his feet as her fingers tugged on his. She glanced back, her eyes laughing at him as she cocked an eyebrow. He stepped up next to her and threaded his fingers through hers, his skin tingling at every touch point. Though taking her hand was all part of their cover, it seemed so natural now. She stopped in front of a small motorhome.

  “It’s perfect.” She leaned into him. “What do you think?”

  He couldn’t think, not with her so close. She smelled of maple syrup from breakfast and warmth. She glanced up at him and tipped her head toward the motorhome.

  He lifted his free hand and ran his fingers over the silky twists of her braid. Her lips opened slightly, drawing his attention to their full shape. His mind screamed danger, but he couldn’t convince himself to care. He didn’t have an aversion to danger anyway.

  “I see you’ve found the gem of the lot,” a jovial voice said.

  Reagan jumped away from Sosimo, her face pinking as she averted her eyes. He flexed his fingers, missing the connection of her. The glare he sent the salesman’s way didn’t seem to faze the older man.

  “This beaut just came in and probably won’t last long with all the camping fanatics this area has.” The man held out his hand, and Sosimo gripped it. “Bill Landry, at your service.”

  “John, and my wife, Sue.” Why didn’t those words upset him as much as they had when Rafe first showed him their fake IDs?