by Kim Baldwin
“Thank you for opening the door.” She referenced Blayne’s bandage with a tilt of her chin. “How are you feeling?”
Emotions played across the delicate features of the woman in front of her as she fingered the square of gauze at her temple. She was obviously still seething but Alexi’s accurate assessment of her plan to escape had really frightened her, too.
“Shitty headache. How did you know what I was going to do?” she asked, half the fight gone.
“You are doing the obvious things an innocent person would do.”
Blayne leaned back in the chair and gripped the armrests. Am I? She certainly found me. How the hell did she find me? I paid the taxi and hotel in cash.
“All right. Let’s say maybe I haven’t made all the best choices. So, I’m listening. What’s your inspired master plan for getting me out of here, huh? Dazzle me.”
Alexi got back on her feet. “The priority is getting you as far away from here as fast as possible. In the way they are least likely to be able to track us. I have a car outside.”
“Not so fast.” Blayne didn’t budge from where she was. Her independence had been much too short lived and the knowledge that the mob was right now probably closing in on them scared her, but she wasn’t ready to place her life in this woman’s hands without some terms. “I’m not saying I believe you’re who you say you are, but I’m willing to go with you. As long as you know this is not long term. I’m not going back to WITSEC under any circumstances, or to any constantly-under-guard thing. No military bases. I just can’t do it.”
Alexi had been trying to come up with a good explanation for why she wouldn’t be taking Blayne to the nearest federal facility. She couldn’t acknowledge that even the feds couldn’t be trusted, that there was a leak within the Task Force somewhere. Blayne had probably figured that out already and had lost confidence because of it. Fortunately, Blayne’s stubborn pronouncement provided a way out.
Frowning as though only reluctantly accepting her terms, Alexi said, “I understand your hesitation after what you have been through, Miss Weaver. So…for now, I will agree. No military bases, no WITSEC, no cops. Shall we go?”
*
Blayne noticed right away that something was decidedly wrong about the vehicle they were in. It was clearly no rental. A variety of small personal items overflowed the cup holders and console storage areas. Sunglasses, lip balm, tissues, maps, pens. A CD out of its case. Yummy Yummy by The Wiggles. The Wiggles?
She glanced in the back seat. There were more Wiggles CDs on the floor, and several toys appropriate for a toddler. The SUV had a lived-in feel to it, and it didn’t seem to suit Alexi at all. Blayne got a sudden hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach.
“Whose car is this?”
“I did not ask his name. There wasn’t time.”
“You stole this car? Oh my God! Brilliant! They’ll never track us in a stolen car! What the hell kind of an agent are you? Stop right now and let me out!”
But Alexi kept their speed a constant forty, grateful there were few other cars on the two-lane and no imminent stop sign or traffic lights. “I commandeered this vehicle. It was not my first choice, but you gave me few options.” She glanced over at Blayne, who was eyeing her with mistrust. “Although I have the legal authority to do what I did, the authorities will probably be looking for this car, so I am going to get rid of it soon. I do not want to be slowed down answering questions about who we are.” She glanced at her watch. It was almost eight-thirty.
“If you get rid of this, then how are we going to travel?”
“You will see.”
Blayne was already regretting her decision to go with Alexi. “That’s exactly why I despise this under-protection crap. Having everything about my future kept from me! And why I’m going to allow it only as long as I have to.” She stared out the window as they turned off the secondary streets Alexi had been taking onto Highway 50 West and the town of Fremont, some thirty-five miles distant. “I am so tired of having someone else decide what, how, when, and where the hell my life is going next. It’s my fucking life!”
Alexi didn’t respond. She let the silence lengthen, glancing at Blayne now and then. The witness was agitated and angry, her breathing rapid. She had been through so much, seemed so vulnerable, that once again Alexi found herself having to fight the urge to reach out a hand to comfort her. “Miss Weaver, you have had an impossibly stressful day. Why do you not try to get some sleep?”
“Yeah, right!” Blayne’s tone was almost a snarl. “I can just curl up in the back of this stolen car, and nod right off. Nothing like being a human target to make you all sleepy.”
Alexi felt the sting of the rebuke like a slap. “Do as you please. I think it wise to get some sleep, but suit yourself.”
They were approaching a gas station/convenience store that was invitingly absent any customers at the moment. Alexi glanced at her fuel gauge. They were down to less than an eighth of a tank so they needed to make a stop soon anyway. She would like to have waited for Blayne to reach a calmer frame of mind, but they hadn’t the time for that. “How much money do you have?”
“Money? Why?”
Alexi pulled into the driveway of the store and parked the Navigator at one of the pumps. “My wallet was with my identification in my bag,” she explained as she switched off the engine and pocketed the keys. “Which was sucked out of the plane. I need money for gas.”
“Oh, this is rich!” Blayne exclaimed, shaking her head. “So you say you’re a federal agent, but really…the only thing you have in your possession is a stolen car. And…and you say you’re going to help me…and then you ask for my money!” What the hell have I gotten myself into?
“This is an unusual situation. But I have a plan. Now please, may I have the money?”
“I have a plan,” Blayne mimicked, her voice dripping with disdain. She reached into her pocket for her wallet, but half turned away from Alexi to open it, in an effort to keep the contents secret. She’d transferred some of her own money into it; there was more than a grand in there now. The rest was in the envelope stuffed into her back pocket. “They gave me five hundred,” she said as she reached in to extract a couple of twenties.
“How much do you really have? All totaled?”
Blayne paused and looked at Alexi, her temper rising again. “I said, five hundred.”
Alexi held out her hand. “Miss Weaver, hand me your wallet.”
“I will not!”
“You will force me to take it from you, then.”
“Look, I’m not going to give you my wallet. I’ll give you whatever you need for gas…” She plucked out two…No, make that three twenties, she decided.
Alexi reached around to the small of her back while Blayne was preoccupied, and fumbled momentarily at a clip on her belt. From the front, it looked like any ordinary women’s belt, plain black leather with a decorative gold buckle. But it had been adapted for plainclothes law enforcement personnel to hold some of the tools of their trade.
When Blayne turned to hand Alexi the twenties, she found her wrist immediately encased in a handcuff. Before she could react, its twin was secured to the SUV’s steering wheel and the wallet was snatched out of her hand.
“What the fuck!” She stared at the handcuffs in disbelief as Alexi got out of the car. “You can’t do this! Take these off right now!” She rattled the cuffs, testing them. I knew I shouldn’t have opened that door and let her in. Fuck! This can’t be my life!
“I am sorry. But you are a flight risk.”
“I came with you willingly, damn it!”
“But you were about to take off again.”
Blayne seethed, her jaw clenched, her eyes slits of anger. “I didn’t say anything…”
“You did not have to,” Alexi cut her off. “Now remember, we cannot draw attention to ourselves. I will be right back.” She shut the door to the Navigator and pumped several gallons into the tank, watching Blayne all the while, thankful that she
didn’t blow the horn or do something equally stupid.
She could see that Blayne was furious. Every now and then she could hear a muffled curse through the glass, and the rattle of the handcuffs as Blayne pulled at them in frustration.
Oh yes, it is certainly going to be great fun being tied to this firecracker for the next however many hundreds of hours.
She kept an eye on the SUV through the store’s front window while she bought a few items and quickly perused the local newspaper. There were several possibilities in the classifieds, so it only took five minutes and three phone calls to get what she wanted. She scribbled directions on the edge of the newspaper, tucked it under her arm, and headed back to the SUV with her purchases.
Blayne didn’t want to sound like a brat, but she let into her as soon as she got the door open. She’d had several minutes to work up a head of steam. “Took you damn long enough! I saw you in there, reading the paper.”
Alexi regarded her benignly and held up one of two large paper cups of coffee. “Do I dare give you this, Miss Weaver? It is very hot. And I have only this one change of clothes.” She offered a half-smile of apology.
Blayne’s anger subsided a little. In addition to the coffee, Alexi had a small bag full of food dangling from one hand. Potato chips and a two-pack of Hostess chocolate cupcakes peeking out of one side. Her stomach growled at her to be grateful.
She rattled the handcuffs. “Since we’re into the bondage stage of our relationship, don’t you think you can start calling me Blayne?”
It was so unexpected that Alexi burst out laughing, nearly dumping coffee onto herself, and Blayne had to join in after a moment. It was the first time either of them had really laughed in days and she felt somehow much the better for it.
“I am happy you are the forgiving type,” Alexi said as she slipped into the driver’s seat and unlocked the handcuffs.
Blayne rubbed her wrist. “Don’t do that again.”
“Do not give me reason to.”
“I didn’t give you a reason this time!” Blayne argued.
“Yes, you did. You are very easy to read, Miss Weaver…Blayne. Very predictable.”
“Will you please stop calling me so fucking predictable? You’ve been doing that all night.”
“It just illustrates why you need me,” Alexi replied evenly. “If I can read you, so can others. Your naiveté is nothing to be defensive about. You are just a kid, and you are acting impulsively because you are frightened. It is understandable, given what you have been through.”
“A kid? You have some hell of a nerve. Talk about fucking condescending!”
“I meant no offense,” Alexi replied. “Look, we are both tired. May we start over? I am pleased to meet you, Blayne. I am Alexi.”
She offered her hand, and Blayne took it after a moment’s deliberation. The handshake was brief but firm, the eye contact more sustained as the two women studied each other. So damn cocksure of herself, Blayne thought. She found Alexi’s confidence both aggravating and comforting.
They were back underway a couple of minutes later, some of the tension diffused. There was no more talk between them for awhile, both women too engrossed in taking the edge off their hunger with ham and cheese sandwiches and the rest of the convenience store bounty.
“Where are we going?” Blayne finally asked when they reached Florence and paused at a quiet neighborhood park, an expanse of greenery with basketball courts and children’s playground equipment.
“To trade vehicles.” Alexi was pleased to see the car—a red, 1990 four-door Geo Prizm parked under a street lamp beside a blue, late model Ford pickup. Two men in their twenties leaned against the Prizm’s hood, smoking.
Alexi parked in a patch of darkness beyond the men. “Hunch down, out of sight,” she told Blayne. “I want you to stay here with the doors locked until I come back. Don’t say anything. Don’t do anything. And keep down.” She got out quickly and hit the ‘lock’ button on the remote.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” she said as she walked around the Prizm, studying it from every angle. When she spoke, there was no hint of the accent that was usually a part of her speech. She sounded like she was from the next town. “Like I said, guys, I’m in a hurry. Got the keys?”
She started the car and gunned the engine, listening for problems, and checked the gauge to make sure the tank was full as she had instructed. Satisfied, she swapped seven hundred and fifty dollars cash for the title, and then turned down the men’s offer of help in getting the car home, saying her husband would be arriving to help her at any moment.
Once the men had departed in their pickup, she returned to Blayne. “All clear. Time to leave.”
They bagged up the rest of the food, retrieved the map, and headed to their new ride. Blayne opened the door and recoiled at the first whiff of stale cigarette smoke. The Prizm stank of it.
“Of course. Nothing can be easy,” she grumbled, not entirely to herself.
They got in and buckled up, and as soon as Alexi started the engine, she lowered her window a couple of inches and cranked the heater up to high. It had been a mild early March day, with temperatures nearing fifty, but it was getting much colder now, down below freezing, and neither woman had the warmest of coats.
Alexi retraced their route until they were back on Highway 50, and this time headed east. In no time, they came upon a sign that said Pueblo – 24 Miles.
“Pueblo?” Blayne cried, aghast. “We’re going back to Pueblo?”
“We are only passing through, and you are going to be lying in the back seat when we do.” Alexi glanced over at her. “Would you climb over there now, please?”
“No. Not until you tell me why we’re heading right for where you said we had to get the hell away from.”
“Are you always going to be so stubborn?”
Blayne had to smile a little at that. “Probably. I’m Irish.”
“If you get into the back, I will tell you some of what I have planned.”
“Deal.” Blayne climbed over the seat and slouched down so she was mostly out of sight, but still able to watch Alexi.
“We went west initially because that is the way they will expect us to go, and I reinforced that notion by leaving the SUV where I did. But our actual route will be in the direction they will least suspect. Back toward Chicago.”
“Chicago!” Blayne sat up. The horror of Martinelli’s murder replayed in her mind, and in no time, her heart was pounding. “You can’t be serious! I’m not going back to Chicago!”
“It is the safest direction at the moment,” Alexi said patiently. “And we are not going into Chicago, just nearby so that I can replenish my resources.”
Blayne slumped back down, feeling only slightly less alarmed by Alexi’s choice of escape routes. Back to Chicago. Even if it was dangerous, at least it was familiar. It’ll probably be a lot easier to find out what happened to Claud from there. I can call our friends. Stop by some of our haunts. See if anyone has heard anything.
She studied Alexi’s profile in the dim light from the dashboard, still not entirely convinced she was who she said she was. Worst-case scenario, she could wait until we get close to Chicago, handcuff me to the car again, or take me straight to the Marshals and I’ll be history.
But, as long as she could make sure Alexi would trust her enough to leave her for a few minutes, Chicago was also the perfect place for her to disappear. At least she knew the terrain. She started compiling in her mind, a list of people Claudia might have contacted. Yes, Alexi’s choice of direction was sounding better all the time.
I just have to find a way to ditch her. And from what I’ve seen so far, that’s not going to be easy.
Chapter Nine
It was after midnight, but Theo answered on the second ring. “Lang.”
“It is Alexi. I have Blayne Keller.”
“Thank God. Where are you?”
“On the move.” Alexi stared past the store clerk to the Prizm bathed with the bright
overhead lights beside the gas pumps. They’d left Pueblo behind four hours earlier and were now eastbound on Interstate 70, just over the Kansas state line.
“Where are you headed?”
“Somewhere safe.”
“Alexi, you can tell me. This line is secure.”
“I cannot depend on that. No one was supposed to know what flight we were on.”
“Give me something,” Theo insisted.” What’s your plan?”
“My plan is to keep the witness safe until trial. That is all I can concentrate on right now, because she is resistant to protection and determined to disappear. If we push her too hard, we are going to lose her testimony.”
“But if we don’t know how to reach you, then we can’t guarantee her court appearance,” Theo said. “Without her, they might not be able to hold Cinzano.”
“It is her choice, Theo. She wants nothing to do with WITSEC right now. I am trying to change her mind, but she lost trust in us after the explosion.”
He sighed resignedly. “All right. What do you need?”
“I’ll let you know. You’ll need to assign someone else to find your leak. I have my hands full with this, and I don’t think she will accept anyone else guarding her.”
“Understood.”
“And Theo, for obvious reasons, I would ask that you continue to keep my involvement in this case to yourself.”
“The Task Force pretty much knows already, Alexi. A flight attendant remembered you, and the guy whose car you took. The hospital workers put you two sisters together, of course.”
Damn.
“They’ll get your name from the airline or Saint Louis airport when they reach the right people,” Theo continued. “I presume you had to show your papers to get your gun through?”
“Yes.”
“So they’ll know who you are soon. And then Paul will call me, asking questions. So far I haven’t volunteered or verified anything.”
“All right,” Alexi said. “Keep that up as long as you can.”
“Of course.”