by Spear, Terry
One of the local cops handed Allan a map of the businesses in the area. Samuel pulled a brochure out between the driver’s seat and the console of the rental car. “She visited the South Padre Island tourist information bureau. Looks like that’s how she knew how to navigate her way around.”
“So she hasn’t really regained her memory,” Allan said, his heart sinking. If she remembered her past, she would at least know what Wilson looked like. Now, she was like a little lost lamb and the big bad wolf was still tracking her. “She hasn’t eaten as far as we know. It’s almost noon. Check out the restaurants first. And clothing stores, in case she has it in mind to change her clothes again. Oh, and remember, she’s still carrying my black backpack.”
The sixteen men split off into pairs. Dale and Allan headed toward one of the clothing stores.
Dale glanced back at the oil lube business. “You’ve got to admit, the lady’s sure resourceful. Nobody would have thought of a person on the run, taking a rental car in for an oil job and car wash.”
Allan grunted. “Anything else we didn’t know about her? Did she have a little CIA training on the side?”
Dale grinned. “Wouldn’t that be something?”
They stepped into the boutique, but quickly exited the shop after the clerk couldn’t identify her. After three more clothing shops, Dale got a call. “Yeah, what’s up, Samuel?” He frowned at Allan. “Thanks.” He covered the mouthpiece and spoke to Allan, “She got a change of clothes. But it was at a thrift shop, and they didn’t record what they looked like. Just shirt, pants, and sneakers, is what the woman wrote.”
“Damn.” Now without knowing what she was wearing, all they had to go on was the black backpack. If she ditched that, they would be lost.
Dale said, “Yeah?” to Samuel. “Damn.” He looked at Allan. “She’s changed her hair color. Black. Okay, get the word out to the search team. No more looking for her in stores. Search eating places next.” He closed up his phone.
Allan and Dale studied the map, and then looked at the restaurants in the area. “What about that one?” Allan asked, considering the eat-in Italian restaurant across the street.
“Might as well try it.”
***
Jenny hadn’t realized she was so hungry. But halfway through her lasagna, her stomach seemed to fill up all at once. Probably the last several days of trauma had made it shrink.
She had purposefully sat with her back to the aisle and was thankful they had seated her in a dark corner near the rear of the business. The restaurant was broken up with walls decorated in paintings of Italian cities, dividing sections to allow patrons to enjoy some dining privacy. The layout wasn’t helpful for a person who wished to find someone easily. Thank goodness.
She pulled Allan’s water pouch out and filled it with the ice water from her glass. Then she waved for the waiter’s attention to get a refill on her water.
She glanced down at the map of the town. There were no public transportation systems, no rental car places. She was stranded. What if she stayed at one of the hotels? Everyone would think she’d continued on her way, wouldn’t they? No one would think of her staying in the area.
Her waiter headed toward her with the pitcher of ice water but stopped, then detoured. Chills ran down Jenny’s back as she recognized Allan’s deep, dark voice.
“We’re looking for this woman,” he said. “She would be alone, most likely. Her hair is black now. And she’s carrying a black backpack.”
“Yeah, I think she’s the one sitting alone at that table just beyond the wall there.”
Jenny threw a twenty on the table, then grabbed up the bag and dashed out of her seat. Heading in the opposite direction from the men, she tried to make it to the front door. But Dale ran to the entrance with his phone to his ear, barking orders.
Damn, the building would be surrounded by their men soon.
Allan was still searching for her and must be behind her. Jeez. She dove into the men’s room. Luckily it was empty. She ducked into a stall.
Now what? Hiding in the men’s room wasn’t going to work.
The door to the restroom creaked open. Damn, she was a gonner. But then a zipper peeled down with a zip. The sound of someone urinating in the open urinal followed.
Wrinkling her nose, she closed her eyes.
The door squeaked open again. “See a woman come in here?” Allan asked the man at the urinal.
The man chuckled. “Nope.”
Allan paused, then headed out of the room. She waited until the toilet flushed, and the man left. Then she hurried out of the stall, hoping she’d reach the door before someone else wanted to use the room.
She peeked out. No sign of Allan or any of the others. But when she edged toward the front door using the walls to hide behind, she saw Allan, Dale, Samuel, and Cameron, all blocking the entrance, taking turns talking.
Whipping around, she headed for the kitchen. She figured they would have it covered already, but it was her only chance out of here. When she pushed the door open, several cooks glanced in her direction. She smiled, trying to disarm them if they knew she was a wanted woman and dashed for the doorway.
Two men wearing aprons attempted to stop her. She struck one with her backpack, and kicked the other in the shin.
“I’ll get the officers!” one of the men shouted and darted out of the kitchen.
None of the other kitchen staff came near her, and she bolted for the door. When she ran outside, the sunlight blinded her, and she squinted. Perspiration dribbled down her neck, and her heart couldn’t have drummed any harder.
She knew she didn’t have any chance now. Three police cars had parked nearby, and as soon as she ran past the dumpsters, a uniformed police officer caught sight of her and hollered for her to halt. Luckily, he didn’t draw a weapon.
But the worst of it was, apparently Allan and his men had convinced the police to help them. Great. She was dead meat now.
The police officer got on his walkie-talkie, but almost immediately, the kitchen door to the Italian restaurant slammed open. Jenny blinked the tears away as she climbed a chain-link fence into someone’s backyard.
Some distance away, Allan shouted, “Jenny!” His voice was demanding, like a parent would use with an unruly child. Her head pounded with anger and frustration.
She tried to ignore him and everyone else that climbed the fence, rattling the chain link, or clomped in boots in the yards next door, skirting around it. She felt like she was the focus of a statewide manhunt, and everyone from the entire Texas police force and other law enforcement agencies converged on her postage stamp bit of territory.
Despite not wanting to abandon the backpack, she finally dropped the cumbersome baggage in the driveway of the property. She dashed across the street, nearly colliding with a border patrol car as the metal bumper skidded to a halt, bumping her leg.
Jeez, how many other agencies had they solicited to aid in capturing her?
Panting, out of breath, and cut off from a further chance at evasion, she waited in the front yard of a small frame home while the net of law enforcement officers and one group of faux A.T.A. agents closed in on her.
Cameron grabbed Allan’s backpack, the gun once more in the bad guys’ grasp. Allan stretched his hands out to her, palms up, attempting to appear non-threatening, as everyone else formed an impenetrable circle around her. She swallowed hard, her throat parched.
She had eyes only for Allan as he approached her, using caution. Everyone else remained in place, non-aggressively. Not like him, just his closing in on her space was an act of terrorism.
“Don’t get any closer!” she screamed. Or what? She’d give him another black eye?
“Jenny, we’re here for your protection. Not to harm you.”
“Yeah, right. You and your men are Wilson’s cohorts.”
“You’re confused.”
She took a step away from Allan. The adrenaline coursed through her at an increased rate of speed, but the sun
beating overhead was making her woozy.
She had no intention of giving in to him, not while she had an ounce of fight left in her. She fisted her hands. She was ready to let him have it. Just a couple of steps closer, and she would get the other eye.
***
Allan had wanted to capture her at all costs, but having this big of an audience wasn’t helping his job. Jenny was terrified out of her wits, and there wasn’t any way for him to convince her that he was one of the good guys, no matter what she was thinking, not right now, not here like this.
He barely even recognized her with her hair dyed black and the baggy clothes that she wore that hid her shapely curves. But her green eyes narrowed like a cat ready to strike, and those, he recognized.
He was afraid he would have to have Dale use another sedative on her and knew that was bound to go well. Dale was ready, just waiting for him to give the order. But Allan didn’t want to have to do it, if he could get her in the car without too much of a fuss.
The way she clenched her fists, he knew she was ready to haul off and sock him again. Only this time he would be prepared. Still, he approached her with caution, hoping to get her to calm down. But she was wired so tightly, he knew as soon as he reached for her, she was going to take all of that built up energy and spring it on him.
He imagined he would have to tackle her to the ground and have Dale give her the shot. But when he reached for her arms, she didn’t do as he expected at all. She grabbed his wrists, lunged forward with her right foot, wrapping it quickly around the back of his left leg, and shoved.
Allan fell backward and landed hard on his back. A couple of the law enforcement officers chuckled, but Samuel dove in. With his sturdy body, he plowed her down before Allan could jump to his feet. When she was on her back on the grass, Samuel grabbed her arms and pinned her with his body. Allan quickly seized her right arm and motioned to Dale.
Jenny screamed bloody murder.
Dale gave her the sedative.
For several minutes, Samuel held her still, while Allan rubbed her shoulder and talked to her softly, trying to get her to calm down enough so they could move her to the car.
“Where to now?” Dale asked, stroking his red whiskered chin.
Allan touched Jenny’s cheek. “Back to the condo. Headquarters will have to give us a new location if they decide South Padre Island is no longer safe.”
She still glared at him, but her eyelids grew heavy.
Cameron busily thanked members of the border patrol and some of the police officers, who were going back to other assigned duties. Several others hung around, waiting to see how the end played out.
Jenny closed her eyes and whispered under her breath, “Bastard.”
Allan smiled, much relieved to have her under his protection again. He looked up at Dale.
Dale raised his brows. “Guess we’re back to square one with her.”
He sighed deeply. “Yeah, I imagine the issue of marriage is going to be a sticky one all over again.” He touched Samuel’s shoulder. “Is she nearly out?”
“Yeah. I’ve eased up a bit, and she’s not combative.”
“Try to let go of her then.”
Samuel moved off of her, but kept her wrists pinned. She didn’t react.
“All right.” When Samuel let go of her, Allan lifted her off the grass. She wasn’t asleep, just totally relaxed. He carried her to the car as several officers clapped. He smiled. Probably the most interesting thing that had gone on in their little town in a good long while.
When the agents were all in the car, they headed back to the condo on South Padre Island. Allan held Jenny’s head in his lap and ran his hands through her hair and over her shoulder. He couldn’t stop touching her, trying to reassure her she was safe, and reassure himself she was once again under his care.
Samuel rode with Lantham this time to give Jenny room to stretch along the length of the backseat somewhat.
Allan took Jenny’s hand and caressed it. “What made you think we were some of Wilson’s men, Jenny? Did you have some memory of me in your bedroom?”
She didn’t respond.
He couldn’t curb the angst in his gut that she would think he could have hurt her as she must have thought.
Dale looked back over the front seat. “Her eyes are half open, Allan, but she looks pretty groggy. I don’t think she’s willing to cooperate, either, by the mutinous expression on her face.”
Cameron cleared his throat. “I’d say the little lady’s starting to recall some memories, though, boss. The way she tackled you…”
Dale chuckled.
Allan smiled, the heat creeping into his face. “Yeah, I really didn’t see it coming.”
“Army hand-to-hand combat maneuver.” Cameron patted the steering wheel. “If she remembered how to do that, some of her memories must be coming back.”
That brought another critical subject to mind. “You got my gun back, didn’t you?”
“Yep. It was still in your backpack. Good thing she didn’t try to use it.”
“I’m…not…one…of…of…them,” Jenny said, her words haltingly slow and nearly a whisper.
“One of whom?” Allan asked, stoking her cheek, trying to coax more conversation from her. If he could get her to talk to him, maybe he could convince her she was safe in his care.
Dale watched her. “She’s closed her eyes.”
“The…bad…guys.”
Allan rubbed her arm. “No, you’re as good as they come, Jenny.”
“Not…marrying…you.”
Dale’s lips and brows rose simultaneously. “Here we go again.”
Allan quashed the tension settling in his neck muscles. “Jenny, by the time I reached your bedroom, you were already unconscious on the floor. I seriously thought I was too late in coming to your rescue. When I tackled the man who hit you, I heard you groan and realized you were still alive.”
She shook her head.
He ran his hand over her hair. She didn’t want to believe him, but he was going to ensure she did. “Then I carried you out of the house and to an Agency vehicle. We took you straight to the hospital. You had armed guards around the clock.”
“Old Allan there, wouldn’t let anyone stay in the room with you, hardly at all,” Dale said. “He wanted to be the first one you saw when you came to.”
Allan couldn’t deny it. He had. Had he wanted her to see him as her savior? Maybe psychologically he had. He couldn’t help the interest she’d stirred up in him the first time he’d seen a photo of her. But he didn’t believe in love at first sight. It was more like rebound, in his opinion. Just an incredibly attractive woman who made his hormones jump like a teen at puberty.
She sighed deeply.
“Is she asleep?” he asked Dale.
Dale studied her for a moment. “Appears to be.”
Allan’s back muscles loosened up again as the tension dissipated. The ordeal wasn’t over yet, not by a long shot. He still had to convince her they were the good guys and get her to marry him. Piece of cake. Right. But for the moment he was glad she was resting quietly.
When they drove into the condo parking area, Dale got the vehicle door for Allan and helped him lift her out of the car. “Boss is going to be pretty mad about this marriage hang-up.”
“Yeah, well, maybe we can drug her, take her to the courthouse, you speak for her, and we’ll bring her back home, after the judge pronounces us married,” Allan said, sarcastically.
Cameron chuckled. “That sounds like some kind of caveman tactics if I ever heard of one.”
“At this point, I can’t see what we’re going to do to convince her now,” Allan said.
As soon as they entered the condo, they were greeted by two other agents. “I’m Friston and this is Brown. We’ve brought Roxie Adams here to see Miss Brant.” The black-haired man stared at Jenny for a moment as Allan carried her up the stairs. “Don’t tell me that’s Jenny Brant.”
Dale said, “Yeah, that’s her.
”
“The boss said she was a redhead, but her hair had been dyed brown.”
“Apparently,” Allan said as reached the third floor, “she didn’t like the color.”
Friston chased him up the stairs. “She’s knocked out. What did you have to do? Give her a sedative?”
“Yeah.”
“Second time,” Dale said, chiming in. “The little lady isn’t always very cooperative.”
“Great. We only can only keep Miss Adams here for a few minutes, then we have to move her again. The boss says Wilson wants her badly, just as much as he wants Miss Brant. That’s why we had to come now, instead of later. We’re not to keep her here long.”
“We’ll try to wake Jenny.” Allan couldn’t help the exasperation in his voice. He’d really wanted Jenny to speak to Roxie and maybe stir up some of her memories, but now he was doubtful it would work.
He laid Jenny on the couch. Dale hurried into the bedroom, then returned and slipped a pillow under her head.
Allan covered her with a blanket. “Okay, where’s Miss Adams?”
Chapter 11
Jenny sipped a cup of coffee, despite not wanting to, as she sat up on the couch. She glared at Allan, totally agitated. Her stomach churned like a wash machine’s spin cycle. “Damn it, Allan. You have me drugged, then want me awake. Make up your mind.”
“Your girlfriend, Roxie Adams, is being brought up here. She’s going to try and help you regain your memory.”
The urge to sleep overwhelmed her. Too tired to care whether she recalled her memories, married Allan, didn’t marry Allan, was turned over to Wilson…none of it mattered at this point.
When the petite woman, undoubtedly Roxie Adams, walked into the room, the first thing Jenny noticed was the mop of curly brown hair that bounced with her step. She had one of those cute small faces that looked good with any hairdo. But her chocolate brown eyes, wide with fear, impressed Jenny the most.
Jenny’s stomach knotted as she fought the urge to comfort her. This woman was supposed to be her best friend, yet she didn’t know her at all. She wasn’t in the habit of hugging strangers, she didn’t think, and she’d gone way overboard with Allan because he’d lied to her about being her husband.