Detour

by Kurtz, Sylvie

  “If we’re apart, it’ll be easier for us to get away. And they won’t be able to connect us. We’ll meet back at the truck. If something goes wrong and it’s safer to meet elsewhere, go to the Mustang Bar and Grill in Sundance Square.” I pulled one of Van’s business cards from my tote. “And if you get caught, call my brother.”

  “I don’t like this.”

  “You wanted in. Deal with it.” I stuffed everything back into the plastic bag and shoved it behind the seat, throwing a blanket over it. “You go first. I’ll follow in a few minutes.”

  “In and out. No side trips,” he warned, then strode toward the convention center with purposeful steps.

  “Wait,” I called. “Put a pebble in your shoe. Then take it out after you have the card.”

  “Why?”

  “Your walk’s too macho. It doesn’t fit with the rest of your disguise.”

  He rolled his eyes skyward but did as I asked. The slight limp gave him a pathetic edge that would have people glancing away in pity.

  Foot jiggling as I sat in the truck, I traded my faithful leather tote for a plain beige canvas one and counted the minutes until I could spring into action. Waiting was always the hardest part for me.

  Sofia? I asked, but got no answer. How hard had taking over my body been on her? Had it zapped her ability to penetrate my mind? I shook my head. It didn’t matter. Getting the card, the hard evidence was what I had to concentrate on. I’d asked a lot from Wyatt; I had to make sure this ploy succeeded.

  I took on a harried demeanor as I made my way back to the convention floor. Notebook from my canvas bag poised, I stepped into the Allied Defense booth. The pass dangling at my neck was conveniently twisted as I approached the young man with the tightly coiled blond hair, a used-car-salesman smile and a stiff new suit. I clumsily juggled my notebook and bag and stuck out my hand, which he folded into both of his sweaty ones.

  “Hi, I’m from Defense Today,” I said, oozing warmth into my voice. “I’m doing a piece on the trade show and I’d like to include Allied Defense.”

  “Tad Ahearn,” he boomed, then grinned as he pumped my hand. “You’ve come to the right place.”

  Tad nodded at Wyatt as he stepped into the booth, but he quickly turned back to me. “What would you like to know?”

  My pulse hiked as I ignored Wyatt and concentrated on Tad’s hawkish gray eyes. “What’s new, what’s in the works.”

  Wyatt took up a position along the far end of the booth, amazing me with his ability to pretend he was totally engrossed in one of the brochures spread along the display table.

  Tad’s voice spooled out in rapid-fire excitement. “I’m sure you’ve heard Senator Kenneth Tharp’s announcement today that the Department of Defense Appropriations has allocated more than $50 million for Allied Defense. That includes $6.6 million to continue developing HART technology.”

  “They must have a high degree of confidence in the system,” I said.

  “Extreme.” Pride resonated in Tad’s voice. He jabbed a finger at the radar display. “Let me show you how this works.”

  “That’s not necessary.”

  “I’ve sent a signal like so,” Tad plowed on, ignoring me. “And here the F-117 is flying along. See how there’s still a faint echo on the radar. It’s not much but it’s too much if we don’t want to be seen.” He toggled a switch. “Now look, nothing. Absolute invisibility.”

  “That is something.” I kept Wyatt in my peripheral vision as he made his way closer to the black test stand holding the cards.

  Tad kept showing off while I played interested reporter. Wyatt looked wired and restless. His energy was contained but dangerously so. Asking him to steal was bad enough. Making him stew in the possible consequences of his actions had to be killing him. But I couldn’t move Tad from his toy. Time for desperate measures.

  “Oh.” I reached for my temple with a hand and back-pedaled a bit as if I was about to faint.

  “What’s wrong?” Tad rushed to my side and balanced me with his damp hands on both my arms. “Is it the baby?”

  “I’m feeling a little woozy.”

  Tad helped me to the lone chair in the booth and offered me a bottle of water.

  “Just give me a minute. I’ll be okay.” I gave him a weak smile. “This baby’s got to be a boy with all the energy he saps from me.”

  “My wife was the same way when she was expecting our son.” Tad reached into a messenger bag under the chair. “Here, have some crackers. You need to keep up your strength.”

  “Thanks, that’s so sweet of you.” The salt content on these things was probably a week’s worth allowance for me but I made a show of accepting his offering and nibbling on a cheese-and-peanut-butter cracker and washing it down with the water.

  Wyatt edged closer to the test stand that ran the simulation. My heart knocked around in my chest and concentrating on Tad’s patter was getting harder by the second. Wyatt’s hand reached out to the display and as he got ready to flick the HART switch off, I dropped the water bottle and bent over awkwardly to pick it up.

  “I think I’m okay now.” I rose as gracefully as a hippo, letting Tad help me up.

  Wyatt reached inside the stand, hit the quick disconnect holding the card in place and pulled out the card. He slipped the nine-by-five card into his jacket. I let out a whoosh of relief.

  “You’ve been really nice,” I said to Tad. “Do you have a business card so I can write a thank-you note to your supervisor?”

  Preening like a peacock, he whipped out his wallet. “It’s been a pleasure. Call me if you need to verify anything.”

  I took his card and slipped it into my notebook. “Thanks.”

  I caught up to Wyatt as he turned at the end of the aisle. He ditched the card with the chip into my canvas bag as I went by him, heading in the opposite direction.

  I slanted one last look at the Allied Defense booth. Tad gestured wildly at two security guards. Their radios hissed like rattlers looking for prey. Shoot, they’d already discovered the card feeding the HART simulation was missing.

  I was nearly at the back exit when two guards converged my way. My stomach twisted as I spun through options. I didn’t have many.

  I stepped into the Electronic Data Systems booth and snaked through their back panels and into the Ball Corporation booth. Two more security guards popped at each end of the aisle, hurrying to some unknown destination. I fell in step with a group of burly guys. One security guard strode right by me, not even glancing my way.

  I sucked in a breath. They were looking for someone else. Wyatt? Had my scheme put him in danger? That’s what I got for involving someone else. I should’ve done this on my own.

  When I reached the end of the aisle, the group of businessmen broke apart, leaving me exposed again. Heart pounding, I kept a cool demeanor as I studied the guards’ hurried movements toward the front of the exhibit hall.

  As I neared the entrance, a cordon of guards blocked it, letting people out only after searching their bags. Not good since mine held what they were looking for. At least it would give Wyatt a clean getaway. I’d have to find another way out.

  I milled around the outside ring of booths until I spotted a technician unlocking a utility access. As the door started to close, I squeezed in before it automatically locked behind him. I plunged into a dim staging area littered with miles of electric wire and criss-crossed with vents. The dusty space throbbed to the sound of air-conditioning pumping out air and smelled of machine oil and dust.

  I had bigger things to worry about than germs right now.

  While my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I flattened against the wall. A minute later three guards poured in through another access door. Their radios crackled as they spread out, drawing their guns. I spotted a breaker box to my left. Using a pocket tool, I broke open the lock and flipped all the breakers. The place went dark. The air-conditioning groaned to a halt, throwing the space into an eerie quiet.

  The guards shouted,
their light beams flashing madly. Hugging the walls as best I could, I patted my way to the nearest outside door. I huddled there for a second, listening for the guards. A flashlight caught my face briefly in its beam. “Security! Stop!”

  I slipped behind a duct before he got a good look at me.

  He called for backup as I made my way around him.

  “Sorry,” I said, and took the legs out from under him with an electric wire at his feet. He landed flat on his back, the wind knocked out of him and his flashlight under a duct, leaving us in the dark again. Before he could recover, I dragged him to a steel beam and handcuffed him to it. Then I gagged him with his own handkerchief so he couldn’t call out for help once his breath returned.

  Footsteps stomped my way and a voice called out. “Steve? Where are you?”

  I broke through the emergency exit door. Sun blinded me, forcing me to slow down. Police cars, lights flashing, squealed in front of the convention center. I needed to follow the advice I’d given Wyatt: “Don’t panic.” The guard hadn’t gotten a good look at me. I hadn’t gone anywhere near the test stand, so I couldn’t be Tad’s prime suspect.

  Going back to the truck was out of the question. I needed to lose the pregnancy disguise before I went anywhere near the convention center again. Scouting the surroundings, I matched them to the map of downtown Fort Worth I’d studied yesterday and merged into a group of tourists heading for the north entrance to the Water Gardens.

  A cluster of guards appeared, searching the crowd. I let the group of tourists sweep me to the active pool, then bounded down the terraced stairs, water chuting down all around me. I hopped across the concrete pilings at the bottom of the pit and scampered back up the other flight of slab stairs and into the pedestrian traffic.

  To be on the safe side, I took a roundabout way to Sundance Square. In a coffee shop, I took off the wig, dress and belly, washed off the makeup and changed into jeans and a Chocolate Is the Answer to Every Problem T-shirt. The outfit looked a bit funky with the granny shoes—not that many people would notice the shoes. I mixed with the tourist crowd strolling the sidewalks, going by the bar on the opposite side of the street before crossing over and going in.

  The Mustang Bar and Grill was cool—cold, really, after my run—and my eyes took a moment to adjust to the dim light inside after the harsh sunshine outside. Wyatt was nowhere in sight. I picked a booth at the far end that hid me from passersby but gave me a clear look out the window.

  Ten minutes ticked by. Where was he? What if he’d gotten caught? I took out my cell phone, ready to call Van for advice. Yeah, that’d go over real well. He already thought I couldn’t take care of myself.

  I downed a glass of water and bit the bullet. I wouldn’t mention my tight spot right now, but I needed something else from Van, so I called him.

  “I need an intro to your friend A.J. Turcotte,” I said after Van’s usual growled greeting.

  Van’s friend was your typical lab geek. Wild curly hair that was always in bad need of a cut and dressed like a slob. He and Van couldn’t be more opposite but they’d become fast friends in college and still bowled together once a month. They said it relaxed them. Worse, they called it a sport. As if.

  “Why?” Van asked, instantly suspicious.

  “I need him to reverse-engineer a computer chip for me.” I left out the part about stealing it.

  “I’m not going to abet whatever foolish fantasy you’re pursuing.”

  “Fantasy would imply I’m having fun.” That the old P.I. juice was flowing again was beside the point. I just wished I hadn’t involved Wyatt. I scanned the sidewalks outside the bar. Where the hell was he? He’d gotten out before I had. He should be here by now. “This is more like being stuck in a horror movie set and the director never calls ‘Cut.’” Which was also true. As long as Sofia was in my head, my life was on hold.

  In his most lawyerly voice, Van presented point-by-point evidence of my stupidity. “You take off on some nameless case for days at a time without leaving word to anybody as to where you are. You don’t give a care that I’ve been worrying my head off about you. What am I supposed to think? Stop whatever it is you’re chasing, Sierra, and come home where you belong.”

  I bit my tongue to stop my usual shot from the hip. “I can understand how my behavior appears a tad crazy from where you’re sitting. You’re the one who wanted me to find my energy again, remember? I’m back, Van.” Most of me, anyway. If I could just get Sofia out of my head, I could go back to full-time investigating.

  “Do me a favor, will you?” I asked. “Keep your phone line open. If I can’t get this chip analyzed, I might need legal representation. I know how bad things would be for you if my actions tainted the family name and affected the firm. And I’m really trying to protect you from bad publicity.”

  “Sierra,” he growled, then sighed, giving in. “I’ll call A.J. and give him a heads up. Hang on.” A.J. agreed to look at the chip but warned me that he wasn’t promising anything.

  “That’s all I ask.”

  I ended the call and twirled the phone in my hand. Wyatt was still missing. Was he being hauled off to jail? At least he didn’t have the chip on him, so he could yell and scream about false accusations and police brutality. If need be, Van would throw lawyerese at them and rescue him. Van was good at rescuing. Not so good at letting go.

  I had to lose the chip. Then I had to find Wyatt.

  Just as I was about to leave, Wyatt entered the bar—minus the teeth and scar. He carried the suit jacket over one arm and had the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, showing off tanned and taut skin. His step held a confident swagger that had the two big-haired, twentysomething women sitting at the front booth turning around for a second look.

  I’d never been so glad to see anyone and couldn’t help smiling like an idiot. He zeroed in on me as if there was no one else in the restaurant and smiled. Everything in me calmed. I’d never had that happen with anyone before. Then my well-honed survival instincts kicked in. Just relief, I told myself, not attachment. If Wyatt had gotten in trouble because of me, I’d have felt bad.

  As he sat, Wyatt pointed at my T-shirt. A storm of emotions churned in his eyes. His pulse thumped at his throat. “How many of those do you have?”

  I plucked at the shirt and chuckled, giving him time to reel himself back in. “About a dozen. I don’t know where my assistant finds them all but she gives me one every Christmas and for every birthday.”

  “You’re a chocolate freak?” he asked, as if he needed to stay away from the talk of treason for just a bit longer.

  I played along. “Not as much as I used to be.” I studied the flush of excitement coloring his cheeks. “Did you have to run to get away?”

  “I stayed cool and got away with no problem. I waited for you in the truck, then thought maybe you’d run into trouble, so I came back here.”

  “Did anyone follow you?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  Wyatt ordered a hot chocolate for me and a beer for himself. I sidled over to the bar and bought him a black Mustang Bar and Grill T-shirt and got him to lose the tie and shirt. Just in case he’d made an impression on anyone.

  “We can’t go back to your truck,” I whispered over the top of my hot chocolate. “The police will have the place swarming.”

  He chugged down half of his beer and sat back with a glow of aliveness I hadn’t seen on him, except when he’d ridden his horse. “I’ve already called one of my ranch hands. He’ll drop his truck off here and drive mine back to the ranch.”

  I resisted my impulse to reach forward and feel the rush of his pulse rioting at his throat. “You’re getting good at this.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t even go there.”

  “Admit it. You got a rush.”

  His hazel gaze blazed into me, stripping off clothes, leaving me exposed and naked. Oh, yeah, I knew that side effect of a rush. That’s how I got involved with Leo in the first place.

  Wyatt’s
voice dropped an octave and rumbled. “Only if you’ll admit you want me.”

  My insides jolted in a primitive reaction and I swallowed hard.

  “And if I did?” My voice was steadier than I expected. I could rationalize my attraction to Wyatt a dozen ways, blaming Sofia’s messy emotions, the need to work with him on this case, the chase where we’d just barely escaped capture, but the one thing I couldn’t do was deny it. I wanted him. Wanted to feel all the energy of the chase thrumming through his body flow into mine.

  Worse, every line of his face said he knew it.

  One side of his mouth quirked up. “You’re not ready for me.”

  I was wet and willing. But he was right. I wasn’t ready to make myself quite that vulnerable to someone else yet. Not when he still had so many emotions running through him for his dead wife.

  “Wrong time,” I said, regret spinning. “Wrong place.” And because Sofia was bound to recharge her energy soon, I added, “Wrong person.”

  Wyatt grabbed my chin and forced me to look into his eyes. “I don’t see Sofia when I look at you. You keep me off balance. I like that.”

  I liked it, too. Liked knowing I got to him. But I didn’t believe he could look at me, at the scar on my chest, and not think of Sofia. “How can you not see her?”

  “She was nothing like you.”

  “Then what do you see?”

  He cocked his head, studying me. “I see freedom. A woman who knows what she wants and goes after it. A woman who knows who she is and makes no excuse for it.”

  Not so much in the past year but, yes, on the whole, he was right, I liked who I was and what I did. Worse, I liked that he saw me for who I was and wasn’t afraid of it.

  “But you’re still carrying a load of guilt about Sofia,” I said. “You’re not ready, either.”

  A sad smile dimmed his previous thrill of the hunt. “I’d like to be.”

  “Me, too.” But just because you wanted something, didn’t mean you’d get it. Like me wanting my own heart back. It wasn’t going to happen, so I had to adjust, learn to live with my new limitations.