“Only to annoy you.”
“It worked.” He accepted the second cup of coffee on the tray, his hand surprisingly steady. “Thank you. This is much better than what I managed to squeeze from that tiny little coffee machine they leave in the room.”
“You’re babbling. Be careful. I think a part of you might actually want to trust me.”
Regret sat heavy in the pit of his stomach. He hadn’t only annoyed her the previous evening, he’d hurt her. He’d been exhausted, the pain clouding his judgment. He’d been looking for signs of guilt instead of looking for signs of innocence up until seconds ago. If what she said was true, then she’d taken a terrible risk for no discernable payoff.
It had been easier to believe she was running, motivated by greed or even fear over what she’d done. For someone to take that sort of responsibility for no gain had seemed unfathomable.
The facts fit both scenarios. Either she’d done something terrible, and she was trying to escape the consequences. Or she’d done something incredibly brave at great personal risk. The more he knew her, the more he feared the latter was true.
By ignoring the idea that she might be innocent, he’d ignored the pieces of the puzzle that supported her innocence.
Her dad had been a cop. A good cop. A clean cop, by all accounts. A man who’d dedicated his life to the job. A widower who’d raised his only daughter by himself. Raised his daughter to live by the same rigid set of moral codes he’d set for himself.
Near as she could tell, all she wanted out of this whole mess was to live to see another sunrise.
No wonder she was annoyed with him. “I may have jumped to the wrong conclusion when you didn’t answer my knock,” he conceded. “I apolo—”
“No. You’re right.” She sighed and reached for a paper cup of orange juice. “I didn’t give you any reason to believe I’d stick around. I think the lack of sleep was making me a little crazy. Can we just—can we just forget everything I said last night?”
She was innocent.
He knew it then. Knew it to his bones. Everything fell too neatly into place.
She hadn’t been manipulating him. She’d confided in him. She’d shown him a part of herself, and he’d shut her out. He’d miscalculated, and that miscalculation was going to cost him dearly.
She’d reached out for his trust, and he’d slammed the door on her overture. She wasn’t going to be as forthright in the future. Building her trust once more was going to take a great deal of time and effort.
Time was a commodity he didn’t have. “Don’t apologize for anything that’s happened. None of this is your fault. None of this is my fault. If people followed the letter of the law, we’d both be out of a job.”
“True,” she said. “I’m feeling much more charitable after getting some sleep. I wasn’t myself last night.”
She seemed in good spirits, and he decided not to press her. He’d made enough missteps. It was time to back off. Give her a little breathing space. He was starting to wonder if he was cut out for this line of work. Beth was testing all the assumptions he had about himself.
“There’s a table in my room.” He lifted the tray. “Why don’t we eat in there?”
“My room doesn’t have a table. I should have paid more attention last night.” She disappeared and returned a moment later with her pink floral bag. “Do you mind if I brush my teeth in your sink? The faucet in my room doesn’t have any water pressure.”
“Suit yourself.”
She snatched her supplies from the sink and returned a moment later. He held open the door with his hip and let her pass. She’d taken a shower, and her hair had mostly dried. The damp strands were wavy and curled at the ends. His heart kicked in his chest. He much preferred the casual style to her severe bun. At work she was buttoned up and standoffish. He hadn’t seen this more approachable side of her.
Hovering on the threshold, he glanced between the two rooms with a frown. Neither of them had left a single trace of themselves. Granted, they were traveling light. Yet they’d both made the bed with military precision, the pillows arranged just so. Two people forcing order into a chaotic world. Maybe that’s why they rubbed each other the wrong way.
They had too much in common.
He let the adjoining door swing shut behind them and click into place.
She pulled out a chair and snatched a slice of bacon from one of the plates. “The same clerk from last night was still on duty this morning. He’s working a double shift. I didn’t want to appear too shady, so I told him a couple of coworkers might be looking for me. I figured that was less suspicious than telling him two goons were chasing us. Anyway, he said no one had asked about us last night or this morning. He also said he wasn’t allowed to give anyone our room numbers, and he’d call if someone asked about us.”
Corbin hadn’t even considered questioning the clerk. Maybe because he didn’t trust anyone. He saw everyone as a threat. “Good idea.”
“I should check your arm.”
He flexed his fingers. “It’s fine.”
“All right.” Her voice was tight. “What now?”
He mentally kicked himself once again. He’d just passed up another opportunity to rebuild some trust between them. There were times when his training in Afghanistan was a hindrance. In his former line of work, he’d always been on the defensive.
He hadn’t been part of the community outreach. He hadn’t been trained to build trust. He’d been trained to view everything and everyone as a danger.
That method wasn’t working out so well these days.
He took a plate holding a surprisingly large omelet oozing with cheese. “I’ve found a car for sale at a small dealership. It’s old, but apparently it runs great, and the dealership is open this morning. I don’t want to risk a cyber trail with a rental. Airplanes mean identification, and I’d rather avoid that, as well.” Just in case they picked up Beth. He wasn’t worried about himself. “After we find a car, we’ll drive to headquarters. Without current license plates, we’re relatively obscure.”
“How far is headquarters?”
“About eleven hundred miles.”
“What happened to Minneapolis?”
“My superior thinks headquarters is safer. We’ll follow part of the plan, at least. Go someplace public, make sure we don’t still have a tail, then make the trip by car.”
Her expression fell. “You have got to be kidding me. Are you certain we can’t take a plane?”
“We can take the bus,” he said cheerfully. “That’s what Jack Reacher always does. He takes the bus to stay off the grid. You don’t need identification. But I don’t think you’re going to enjoy that mode of transportation any better.”
“Agreed. I do not want to be stuck on a bus for twenty hours. What a nightmare. What about the train?” Her voice raised in hope. “The train was nice.”
“They already know you have a proclivity for train travel.”
“I suppose you’re right. Maybe I’ll catch up on some reading. Can we stop at a bookstore?”
“When it’s safe.”
Though he was confident they hadn’t been followed from the train station, he wasn’t letting down his guard until they were back at Homeland Security headquarters.
They spent the next fifteen minutes talking about general topics. Light, innocuous conversation. They both had a weakness for action movies. They both preferred cats to dogs. They were both avid readers, though Beth preferred young adult, and he devoured military fiction.
Sunlight streaming through the windows glinted off her hair and brought out the luster of her eyes. He felt her laughter to the very center of his being. That was the problem. They had too much drawing them together. Too much in common. It was a dangerous mix.
A noise from her room caught his attention and they both went quiet. The faint ringing of a phone e
choed through the thin walls. The noise was coming from Beth’s room. She half stood, and Corbin placed a restraining hand on her arm.
“Wait,” he whispered. “That might be the front desk ringing to let you know someone is looking for you.”
“Tweedledum and Tweedledumber?”
“Best guess.”
The muscles beneath his fingers worked. “Then they already know we’re here.”
“Maybe,” he said, his voice low. “If it’s them, we’ll keep them off balance. Guessing. Let’s not give them any more information than we have to.”
“All right,” Beth whispered.
“Get your stuff together. If they’re near the hotel, we have to be ready to move quickly.”
Confusion and frustration warred within him. He’d been certain they were tracking Beth’s phone. He’d been certain they’d lost the men downtown when they dumped their belongings. Then again, they didn’t know who was calling Beth’s room. Maybe it was the front desk. Maybe a wrong number. There was an infinite number of possibilities. No need to jump to conclusions.
Someone pounded on a nearby door, and Beth jerked around. “I think that’s coming from my room. Someone’s knocking.”
The infinite number of possibilities immediately narrowed. “The phone call was a distraction.”
The two men were in the building. He was certain of it.
Instantly alert, Corbin held his index finger before his lips. He motioned for Beth to move away from the door and drew his gun. Flattening himself against the wall, he angled his ear toward the seam in the adjoining door.
Muffled voices sounded from the opposite side. Male voices.
“They’re here, all right,” Corbin said quietly.
They were still being tracked. Though he couldn’t see them, he knew they were the two men from the parking garage and the train station.
Corbin made a sound of frustration. If not her phone, then what? He trusted Baker, the only person on the inside who knew their whereabouts. He’d ditched his own phone. He’d even disassembled his Glock last night. While he’d kept the gun in his safe, there was a chance they’d been to his house. A chance they’d bypassed his alarm. Anything was possible.
He glanced at Beth. She carried everything she owned in a pink plastic pouch she’d purchased the previous evening.
He needed a wand to search for devices, but that meant contacting the authorities. Something he was rapidly reassessing.
He had to consider all the possibilities. Beth had gone downstairs to pick up breakfast. She could have called someone, but they’d have had to be practically waiting in the parking lot to arrive this fast. He didn’t see how that was possible.
She threw back her shoulders and grasped her ball cap, then threaded her ponytail through the gap in the back. If she was lying, she was a wonderful actress. The best. She tugged on his sleeve and he lowered his head.
Her breath whispered over his ear, raising gooseflesh along his arms. “What do we do?”
“Get out of here,” he replied grimly. “Fast.”
The adjoining door was closed, but it hadn’t been locked. How long before the men chasing them noticed, and decided to investigate? He jerked his head toward the exit. Beth nodded her understanding.
Careful not to make any noise, the two padded across the floor. As they passed the bathroom, Beth snatched the bag of toiletries and medical supplies from the sink.
The crinkling plastic sounded like a gunshot. She cringed and froze. Muffled thumps and the faint echo of voices continued from the other room. The adjoining door remained closed. Either the men hadn’t heard them, or they weren’t concerned about who was in the next room. Why should they be? They assumed he and Beth were together. They weren’t considering they might have two rooms. Corbin blew out a silent breath and motioned again.
As he carefully opened the door, Beth hovered behind him. She kept one hand braced against his back. He was vitally aware of her—as though there was a magnetic pull between them. Her nose barely reached his shoulder blade, yet he sensed her whisper-soft breathing.
He angled his body and leaned closer to her ear. “We’ll take the stairs. Move quick.”
She reached for his hand, and he automatically clasped her fingers. All his instincts screamed her innocence. The proof was compelling. He was building trust. They were operating on the same side against the two men in the other room. He’d remain cautious, but she clearly didn’t want to die any more than he did.
He was standing by his instincts. She was innocent. She was terrified.
He listened carefully. They were exposed for the twenty or so feet between here and the exit. Plenty of time to be spotted. A single door stood between them. The two men would see her room was undisturbed, and they weren’t likely to linger.
He nodded. “Now.”
Together they dashed for the door marked Exit. Once inside the stairwell, they jogged the floors and emerged into the lobby. Beth took a step into the open, and Corbin held her back. But not before the hotel clerk with the sharp eyes caught sight of them. A slight frown marred his expressive features. Corbin gave a shake of his head, hoping the young man read the gesture correctly.
“Let’s wait here,” Corbin said. “And make sure they’ve left.”
He wasn’t risking an ambush. Not alone.
“Okay.”
His pulse picked up speed, and Corbin glanced between the exit and the clerk. Would the young man give them away? There was a fifty-fifty shot he hadn’t understood the unspoken instructions.
The elevator doors opened with a ding, and Corbin urged Beth around the corner. They remained in the shadows, their bodies close enough he noted the tiny pulse beating gently in the hollow of her neck. She grasped a handful of his coat, her fingers trembling, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. His chest tightened.
If anyone passed by, they’d appear a loving couple sharing a clinch in the shadows.
She leaned into his embrace, and her soft hair brushed against his cheek. His breathing grew uneven. Given the difference in their heights, he could rest his cheek on the top of her head and feel the silk of her hair. While the idea was enticing, he kept his gaze fixed on the exit to the lobby. There was no reason for the two men to pass this way, but it didn’t hurt to remain vigilant.
Words from a Hank Williams song about a lonesome past and a cold, cold heart drifted softly over them from a lobby speaker.
Though he craved a clearer view of the lobby, Corbin held back. He couldn’t risk revealing their location. Instead, he monitored his breathing, counting down from one hundred while keeping his senses sharp. When he reached zero, he patted Beth’s arm.
A single set of footsteps sounded across the tiled lobby, moving toward them. To be safe, he maneuvered his body to block Beth, then placed his hand beneath his coat for easier access to his Glock, if necessary.
The sharp-eyed clerk appeared, his hands clasped before his waist. “You’ve missed your coworkers, ma’am.”
“Oh, uh, okay.” She glanced at Corbin, searching for direction. “Did they say anything?”
“They just left,” the clerk said. “I’m afraid they were a little confused. They weren’t certain if they were work colleagues or relatives. They mentioned one thing on the phone, and another in person. Thought you should know.”
“Absolutely,” Corbin said. “You did the right thing.”
Beth moved from behind Corbin. “You’re certain they’re gone?”
“Absolutely certain, ma’am. Watched the car pull away myself.”
Corbin lowered his hand from his gun holster. “You didn’t happen to get the make and model of the car?”
The clerk handed over a slip of paper he’d been holding in his clasped hands. “I wrote down all the information. Including the license plate number.”
Corbin accepted the
folded note with a shake of his head. “How did you know?”
“Instinct.” The clerk shrugged. “You do this job long enough, you notice things.”
“Thank you.” Corbin shook the man’s hand. “You into computers?”
“Some.”
Corbin named an obscure tracking program used to trace online purchases. “Ever worked with it?”
“Too clunky and unsophisticated.” The clerk named a superior program. “It’s more detailed.”
Corbin retrieved a business card from his pocket and jotted down his work number on the back. “If you ever decide to get out of the hotel business, let me know.”
The clerk glanced at the card, and his eyes widened. “Cyber, huh? I may just take you up on that offer.”
“We’re always looking for people with good instincts.”
“Anything else I can do for you, sir?”
“How about a taxi?”
“Can do.” The clerk grinned. “You’ll be hearing from me.”
“I hope so.”
As they crossed the lobby, Beth caught his arm. “How did they find us?”
While that piece of the puzzle haunted him, at least they’d finally caught a break. “I don’t know.”
“Maybe they spotted us leaving the restaurant last night,” she said. “It was late. Dark. Not many places open that time of night. Wouldn’t be difficult to guess where we’d gone.”
Corbin glanced at the paper in his hand. “The police should have scared them off, but it’s possible. Anything is possible.”
Either way, he finally had some leverage. He suspected they had someone in law enforcement back in Chicago. Probably a low-level clerk who fed them information now and then for an envelope of cash. He didn’t need to find the leak. Not yet. He had something different in mind.
“What now?” Beth asked.
“Thanks to our friend, we’ve finally got the advantage.” He flashed the paper. “Now we’re tracking them.”
* * *
The dealership Corbin had discovered online didn’t appear entirely reputable.
Beth wrinkled her nose. “Are you certain about this?”
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