by Kimberly Rae
His grip tightened around her hand. “I keep thinking if I stay up all night, maybe I can come up with a different plan.”
“Everything’s already in place, and you know it’s a good plan. It just also happens to be really frightening.” They reached the top of the stairs and stopped outside her door. “You do this kind of thing all the time. It probably isn’t scary for you like it is for me.”
“You’d be surprised.”
She wavered at her door. “I can’t get his voice out of my head.” She looked up at Cole, allowing the fear to show in her eyes. “I’m scared of going to bed, of what I’ll dream.”
He touched her face then surprised her by pulling her into his arms. “I’m going to be right there with you tomorrow. I won’t leave your side.”
His embrace was gentle. She rested against the solid bulk of his chest and listened to the rhythm of his heart. He ran fingers down her temple and behind her ear, as if brushing aside a lock of hair. She realized his hand was no longer bandaged. That same hand traveled to her chin and lifted it, and she felt a new kind of danger, an intoxicating kind. His other arm tightened around her waist and the hand on her chin urged her closer.
She closed her eyes and his lips touched hers with soft warmth. His thumb ran a trail along her jaw line, sending shivers through her. He pulled back just enough to whisper, “You should get some sleep. We’re leaving early in the morning.”
She nodded. “Goodnight, Cole,” she said, but did not move to go.
They stood close for several moments, neither pulling away. Cole finally stepped back, but before he turned and left for the night, he touched his lips to hers once more, and murmured against them, “Goodnight, beautiful Meagan.”
62
Thursday, January 8
6:04 a.m.
By six the next morning, Meagan was dressed in her Indian clothing and had changed her hair to brown with a temporary dye that would wash out with a good shampoo. When she joined Steve and Quinn in the living room, both sporting two-day beards, Steve commented, “You must be an early bird.”
“Not usually.” She refrained from telling him dreams had woken her at four and she had decided to forgo more of the same and read her Bible until five instead. “Today’s a big day.”
As she walked from the living room to the kitchen, the doorbell rang. She looked through the peephole. “It’s your wife,” she told Steve.
“Stephanie’s here?” He stood and came to look through the peephole once Meagan stepped aside. “I don’t believe it. And it looks like she has coffee. Bless the woman.” His phone beeped. “Can you let her in? Baine’s calling. I’ll be right back.”
“Happy Birthday, Meagan,” Stephanie said when Meagan opened the door. “Wow, you look exotic. The dark hair suits you.” She held up her bag of biscuits. “Knowing Steve is always leaving at the last minute, I brought breakfast so you could eat on the way.”
“That was thoughtful of you.” Meagan said. “How did you know it was my birthday?”
Stephanie reached down next to her feet and picked up a basket with a balloon tied to it. “This is how.”
Cole came down the stairs, looking fierce and businesslike at the same time in his black suit and tie. Meagan blushed when he sent a secret smile her way. “It’s your birthday?”
She nodded. “And Steve’s making sure it’s a memorable one.”
“So is someone else.” Stephanie handed the basket to Meagan. “Who’s it from?”
Meagan pulled out the small card and read it with a smile. “It’s from the team.” She opened the bag set in the center of the basket and pulled out packets of hot chocolate and two blueberry muffins. “Hot chocolate. Just what I needed this cold morning before we go. Should I make some for everyone?”
“Don’t make any for Steve,” Stephanie said. “He thinks anything without caffeine is worthless sludge.” She grinned. “I, on the other hand, appreciate the value of chocolate in any form. I’d love some.”
Cole raised his hand. “Me, too.” He stuck his head into the living room. “Quinn, want some hot chocolate?”
“Naw, I’ll take coffee. Thanks.”
Meagan carried the basket into the kitchen and set it on the table. The cheerful balloon floated up to bounce off the light fixture. She had put water on the stove to heat when the kitchen door opened and Steve appeared. “Cole said you got a basket from outside,” he said. “You should have left it there and called me to come check it. You don’t know for sure that it’s from your team.”
“But I do,” Meagan countered. She held up the note. “This is Brianna’s handwriting. And after last night I doubt Lucias was in the mood to go buy a balloon and decorate a basket for me this morning.”
“Let her enjoy the gift,” Stephanie said, coming into the kitchen with the bag of biscuits. “Stop overreacting.”
“I’m not. I just—oh fine.” Steve reached for two Styrofoam cups of coffee. “If you all are having hot chocolate, that leaves more coffee for me.”
He left and Meagan and Stephanie were alone. “Are you scared?” Stephanie asked. “I know I’d be shaking in my boots. And I don’t even have any boots.”
“I am,” Meagan admitted, pouring hot chocolate mix into three mugs. “But not like I was last night. I know I’m in good hands.”
“I don’t know. Steve looks pretty beat.” Stephanie smiled. “Cole, however, seems extra alert, and particularly focused on you.”
She was blushing again, so turned and kept busy pouring hot water into the mugs. “I’m sure the guys will do their best,” she said. “But I was talking about God.”
“Do you really believe He’s watching over you?”
Meagan handed a mug to Stephanie. “I wouldn’t have the courage to go today if I didn’t know for certain God is coming with me.”
“When this has all settled down, I’d like to talk to you more about—”
Steve made his way into the kitchen again. “It’s time to go.”
Meagan looked at the clock. “Already?” She transferred her and Cole’s hot chocolate to travel mugs.
“Quinn and I are going in my car,” Steve said. “You and Cole come in his. Remind Cole to park no closer than two but no farther than six spaces away from us. If I can’t find parking spots close to the entrance I’ll call in for permission to use reserved ones.” He gave his wife a peck on the cheek. “Thanks for the coffee. See you when we get back.” He headed back to the living room. “Cole, I need you to...”
Stephanie shook her head and laughed. “He’s such a hopeless romantic.”
Meagan nodded toward Stephanie’s mug. “Do you want yours in a travel cup?”
“I’m fine.” Stephanie smiled sheepishly. “I actually drank all mine already.” She rinsed out the mug and set it in the sink. “I hope today goes well. I don’t know what you’re planning but Steve said it was a big deal. You’re helping him land this case and he’s grateful.”
“I hope I’m going to help him. We’ll see.” She took in a deep breath. “I feel all jittery, like I’m going on a first date.”
“Well, you’ve got an hour-plus ride with Cole to the airport, so maybe it is one in a way.”
She let the breath out with a laugh. “A very strange, scary, not-fun way.” She joined the others in the hallway and handed the mugs to Cole to hold while she put on her coat and gloves.
Stephanie said goodbye and reached for the doorknob, stopping to say with a smile, “Cole, your second date had better be much more fun than this. Just warning you.”
She laughed at Meagan’s flushed cheeks and disappeared. “What did that mean?” Cole asked her.
Meagan took her mug and gave herself a moment by drinking a sip. Once they were outside, she could pretend her cheeks were red from the cold. “Nothing. Let’s get going.”
63
Thursday, January 8
8:50 a.m.
“Everything about this feels wrong.” Cole knew he was scowling, and as much as he wante
d to help Meagan be brave, he could not keep the worry from his voice. “This airport is too big. There are thousands of people here.”
“We couldn’t change the airport,” Meagan said with a calm he did not share. “I always fly out of Atlanta. It has to look like all the other trips.” She glanced back. “I even packed stuff into my suitcases and carry-on to make sure they were as heavy as usual.”
“Changing your hair was a smart idea, too.” He reached over to pull one of her suitcases for her. “Want me to carry the bag?”
“I got it.” She smiled. “I have a little goodbye present in there for you. Thought it would make it look more like I was really leaving for a while.”
He slid an eyebrow up. “I’m curious, but you should save it for another time. We don’t want him angry, and he definitely would be if it looked like you thought I was special.” She blushed and he grinned. “I’m not saying I would mind if I was special...”
They joined other passengers with too much luggage in one of the large elevators, and as the people-packed container rose, Cole took hold of Meagan’s hand. It was the first moment since they had left the house that Cole was certain Lucias was not watching them. She did not glance his way, but her fingers gripped tight around his and he found himself praying for God’s protection, aware more than ever before that he could not guarantee his own ability to protect her. There were too many variables. Too many dangerous possibilities. They didn’t even know what disguise Lucias would be wearing.
The elevator doors spread open and Meagan removed her hand. He wanted to pull it back, close the doors, go back down, get in his green rental car, and drive back to the safety of her house. This plan was too risky. He should have stayed up all night and thought of some other option.
She led the way down the long, wide pathway from one terminal to the next. He stayed as close as possible but they were like fish in a crowded river. People rushed toward them, around them, alongside them. He stayed so focused on keeping her in sight he almost ran into her when she stopped in the middle of the pathway. She pointed to the ladies restroom and handed over her suitcase and carry-on. “Be right back,” she said, disappearing before he had an opportunity to panic. He stood next to the entrance, gripping the pulled up handles of her suitcases, staring down every woman who went in after Meagan and earning more than one disturbed glance in return.
The moment she appeared, his lecture started. “You can’t run off like that, Meagan. You just put yourself in danger.”
She looked embarrassed. “Sorry, but I really needed to go.”
He had more to say, but refrained, handing over one suitcase and pulling the second himself. “Do me a favor and run through the plan again.”
“We went through it three times on the drive here.”
“I know, but my heart is still pounding from you going AWOL and I need the distraction.” He also needed to find a bathroom himself, but was not leaving Meagan Winston, not for a second.
“Okay.” She switched her suitcase from one hand to the other and walked a little faster. He took a moment to admire her in her bright red outfit with its flowing Indian scarf. She said she’d chosen the ensemble so they’d be able to spot her easily, but Cole didn’t think he’d have a hard time spotting her anywhere in any color. “You and I say goodbye at the ticket counter, where you flash your special permission from the FBI to go through security when they ask you what you’re doing at the gate. Then you stay there to watch, and tell Steve and Quinn, who are in the tunnel thingy leading to the plane, when you see anyone suspicious. As soon as Lucias is in the tunnel, you stop anyone else from going in.”
“Remember, he might not be in one of his usual disguises today. We have to look at everyone with suspicion.”
“That’s your job,” she said, moving aside to keep from breaking up a large family walking together. “My job is to look clueless and happy, and to walk down the tunnel not scared out of my skin that he’s probably behind me.”
Cole really hated this plan. “And then what?”
She stopped and frowned. “I have to use the restroom again.”
“We’re almost there. Then what?”
“Then as soon as I step onto the plane, Steve and Quinn will arrest Lucias in the contained environment where other people will not be endangered. They’ll contact you, and you’ll have already contacted the security people who already know about all this, and they will take Lucias to prison and you and I will go home.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “I really need to go to the bathroom, Cole.”
He wanted to argue, but he was in the same predicament. “The guys and girls bathrooms aren’t close enough together. We need to find one of those family restrooms that’s just one stall and I can wait outside for you.”
“Do you know where one of those is?”
“No.” His body sent urgent messages to his brain. “I promised I would not leave your side.”
She touched his chin with a small smile. “I think, all things considered, I’ll let that promise slide for a minute or two.”
He swept the area with a look. He almost told her to wait there while he went, and then he could watch the door while she took a turn, but she’d be more vulnerable standing in the open pathway than in a restroom stall. “Okay,” he said, fighting the urge to do what Sadie used to call the potty dance. “We’ll both go, but quickly. No hanging out at the mirror to fix your lipstick or anything. Be back here in thirty seconds. I’ll take the suitcases. You take your carry-on. It has your phone in it, right?”
She nodded, handed her other suitcase over, and rushed away. As he made a beeline for the men’s room, his phone rang. He let the call go. Once he was back in the main walkway between terminals, watching impatiently for Meagan to appear, he checked his missed call. Steve must be wondering why they were four minutes behind schedule. He returned the call and Steve’s words turned his veins to ice. He dropped both suitcases and ran across to the ladies room, jostling against several people but not noticing. “Meagan!” he yelled. “Meagan, if you don’t come out right now, I’m coming in there!”
He waited four seconds for her to respond, ignoring the stares and points, his angst increasing as women exited the restroom and fled away from him. Were they coming out because of his threat to come in, or for a more frightening reason?
“Meagan, are you in there?”
“I’m here.”
He released a harried breath, but her next words filled him with terror.
“With Lucias.”
64
Thursday, January 8
9:04 a.m.
Steve broke into at a run so abruptly, he almost dropped his phone. “Quinn, come on!” he yelled behind him. By the time Quinn caught up, Steve had called security and put them on high alert.
“What is it?” Quinn asked.
Steve had to shout to be heard as they dodged the hundreds of people coming and going through the terminals. “Stephanie called me.”
“I know,” Quinn said, “but—”
“She drank some of that hot chocolate that came in the basket this morning.”
“Yeah. So did Cole and Meagan.” Quinn ran to push the elevator button before the door closed but Steve grabbed his arm and directed him toward the stairs. They took them down two and three at a time.
“Stephanie said she’s been going to the bathroom non-stop for the past fifteen minutes.”
They barely made it onto the shuttle and Steve grabbed one of the poles and bent over to catch his breath. “I called Cole and he’d just been in the bathroom, too.”
Quinn wiped his forehead with his jacket sleeve. “And Meagan?”
Steve felt his stomach tighten into a knot of anxiety. “That hot chocolate was for her. We can assume it was to get her into a bathroom right about now.”
“Did Cole give their location?”
“No. I’ve got security meeting us out front. We need to have eyes on every exit from the airport.”
“Th
ere’s no way—”
The shuttle doors opened and Steve announced, “Stand back! FBI.” He barreled through the waiting crowd and only checked back once to see if Quinn made it through behind him. They ran through baggage claim and to the nearest exit door leading to the duel-level parking deck. Two security guards met them on the sidewalk and Steve showed his badge. “Did you see them?” He had e-mailed digital photos of Meagan, Cole, and Lucias in his multiple disguises to the entire security team that morning.
The men shook their heads and radioed to others along the line of exit doors. “Nothing here,” one said. “I’ll check with the guards in the North Terminal.”
“There’s no way,” Quinn repeated. “This is Atlanta. Do you know how many exits there are in this airport?”
He looked to the left and right. The airport, and its exits, ran farther in both directions than he could see. “Look at all those cars, Quinn. Thousands of them.” Steve ran a hand through his hair. “If he gets her out of the airport, we’ll never find them.”
__________________________
Thursday, January 8
9:06 a.m.
Meagan gripped the bathroom counter so tightly she lost all feeling in her hands. In the mirror, behind her and offset to the left, stood Lucias Moore. His wig was a dark shade of red and hung down in a bob to his shoulders. A hat with a dotted veil hid part of his face. His dress was not a muumuu, but still hung large and bulky on his small frame. Meagan thought of Brianna’s comment that no old lady had legs that hairy, and she wanted to let loose a hysterical, panic-stricken laugh. She’d run for her life if he didn’t have a weapon holding her still. Not a gun. Not a knife. Security would not have let those dangerous items through. But they could not confiscate the weapon of words.
He smiled at her in the mirror. “I know this isn’t the perfect moment, Meagan,” he said with a soft, high voice that screamed through her. “I promise, once we are away from this place, from all those men planning to trap me, I will make this a birthday you will never forget.”