by Linda Gerber
“Start talking.” He pressed the metal harder and harder into my skin until I winced.
“He gave it to me. Before the river. H-he didn’t have any pockets and I did, so he gave it to me to hold!”
Stuart raised a brow and looked at Seth. “Is that true?”
Lie, Seth. Lie!
“Yeah, I gave it to her.”
“Well,” Stuart drawled. “Isn’t that nice.” He lowered the gun. “Aphra, sweetheart, I need you to give me the ring.”
“I—I don’t have it anymore.”
Watts grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked my head back. As if that wasn’t painful enough, Stuart jammed the gun against my cheek. “I’m going to ask you one last time—”
“Stop! Stop this!” Mom jumped toward me. “You leave her alone!”
Watts backhanded her and sent her sprawling onto the pavement. She tried to get up and he kicked her down again. She lay still. Rage poured out of me. I didn’t even think of the consequences. I wrenched away from Watts’s grip and jumped on him like a cat on fire, clawing, biting, spitting. He threw me to the ground, but I got some pretty good licks in first.
Watts pulled back his foot to kick me, too. I rolled to the side, drawing my legs up and covering my head with my hands. Then something exploded. Watts dropped to the ground, screaming and holding his knee. Blood oozed from between his fingers.
“Oh, be quiet.” Stuart sneered and lowered the gun. “One thing I cannot abide is a man who loses control.” He held up his bandaged hand with the missing fingers. “I’d say we’re even now.”
Leaving Watts to whimper on the ground, Stuart turned to me again. “You see, Aphra? I’m losing my patience. Please give me the ring.”
“I swear, I don’t have it. I lost it when I got tossed from the kayak!”
“Oh, really.” He pointed the gun straight at Seth. “I’m through playing games. You have until the count of three to tell me the truth. One . . .”
“Wait!” I scrambled to my feet.
Seth looked at me with wild eyes, shaking his head no. I knew he was afraid to lose the ring for fear of losing his dad, but the way I saw it, if Seth was dead, his dad would be dead, too.
“No, please!” I pleaded. “It’s at the bottom of the river, Stuart! If I could give it to you, I would—”
“Two . . .”
“Wait! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I have it!”
Seth’s shoulders slumped.
“Please,” I cried. “Don’t hurt him.” I pulled the sweatshirt sleeve back and slid the ring slowly from my thumb.
“Aphra, no,” Seth whispered.
I couldn’t look at him, couldn’t bear to see the defeat on his face. I kept my eyes on Stuart and held the ring out to him. He took the ring in his bandaged hand. Looked down.
That was all I needed. I kicked up and out and caught him square in the stomach. Not that I have a powerful roundhouse or anything, but with his hurt ribs, it was enough to make him stumble backward, off balance. Ryan flew at him and grabbed Stuart’s injured hand, twisting his arm behind his back until he dropped to his knees. The gun clattered to the road. Ryan kicked it away.
“Down on the ground!” he yelled, twisting Stuart’s arm higher. He forced Stuart facedown onto the concrete.
Seth jumped in then, peeling Stuart’s fingers back one by one until he let go of the ring.
“Aphra!” Mom yelled.
I had been so intent on the fight that I hadn’t noticed Watts drag himself toward Stuart’s discarded gun. I pounced on the gun and scooped it up. It felt cold and awkward and wrong in my hand. Trembling, I gripped it tight and pointed the barrel at Watts. “Stop right there,” I warned.
He didn’t stop, but lunged for my ankle. I danced away. “Stop! Now!”
He crawled forward on his elbows.
I aimed the gun at the ground near Watts’s head and squeezed the trigger. The gun kicked so hard, I could feel the pain all the way up my arm. The gravel sprayed up in front of his face. He stopped.
Mom pushed up from the ground and limped over to where I stood, ears still ringing from the gunshot. She nudged Watts with her foot. “Valuable lesson, Damian. Don’t mess with my daughter.”
Ryan took control of the scene. It was weird to watch him in his agent’s role. I preferred the image of laid-back college student.
While Mom held the gun on Stuart and Watts, Ryan grabbed some plastic zip-tie handcuffs from the SUV. With Seth’s help, he trussed them up like Sunday chickens and hauled them to the side of the road.
He asked me to retrieve his service revolver from where Stuart had tossed it. I brought it back to him gingerly. Despite what Stuart had said to cover for throwing the gun away, I was pretty sure it was loaded. I’d had enough of loaded guns for one night.
“Here you go,” I said.
“Thanks, Aphra. I owe you one.”
I shrugged and stepped back.
He snapped the gun into his shoulder holster. “I’m sorry about Seth’s dad,” he said.
“How did you—never mind. I don’t want to know.”
“That’s probably best.”
I looked at my hands. “I’m sorry we left you in the plane.”
“It was a good call. You did what you had to do.”
“It wasn’t easy.”
“None of it was. But you did good.” He looked over to where Mom was talking with Seth. “Ever thought about following in your mom’s footsteps and joining the Agency?”
“Not on your life.”
He chuckled. “You know, I’m going to have to call for an ambulance.”
“Okay.”
“And because a weapon was discharged, there will be an investigation. I’ll need to call for backup.”
“Uh-huh . . . oh!” If he called for backup and Seth was still there . . .
He laid a gentle hand on my arm. “You know, Aphra, they can give me a ride, if you want to take off.”
It took me a moment to understand his meaning. “So you don’t need us to wait around until your . . . ride gets here?”
“No. I have things under control—thanks to you. Go on. Get going before I change my mind. Watts left the keys in the ignition.”
“I don’t understand. We can take the Escalade?”
“It’s yours.”
“You don’t even want the ring?”
He shrugged. “Me, personally? No. It’s not my style. The Agency? Well, I’m sure they’d like to look at it. But I think young Mulo over there needs it more than they do.”
“You’re letting us go.”
“I’m giving you a head start.”
I didn’t know what to say. I gave him a quick hug. “Thank you, Ryan. I mean it.”
“Hey, they told me to watch over you. Keep you safe. I’m just doing my job.”
CHAPTER 13
We drove down the mountain in silence. In some areas, the mist was so thick that Mom had to slow the SUV to a crawl until we passed through it. She gripped the steering wheel during those times in a white-knuckled stranglehold. The glow from the dashboard lights illuminated her frown and the tenseness of her jaw. Time was running out. Every minute that passed was another minute Seth’s dad was held captive.
About halfway down the mountain, an ambulance passed us going the other way, lights flashing, siren blaring. “They’ll send the backup next,” I murmured.
Mom glanced at me and then back at the road. “What?”
“Backup,” I repeated. “He said he was going to call for an ambulance and backup.”
She nodded, but didn’t say anything for several miles. Finally, she spoke. “How long did you know?”
I furrowed my brows. “About?”
“Ryan. How did you know we could trust him?”
“I still don’t know that we can. Maybe he handed off Stuart and Watts and he’s on his way down the hill to get us right now.”
She nodded. “He has a job to do.” She stared straight ahead, her mouth set in a grim line. “But I’m sorry you’ve
had to learn not to trust.”
“So am I.” I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the seat back.
Ryan’s words echoed in my head. They told me to watch over you.
There’s a thin line between suspicion and paranoia and I hate to think I may have crossed it, but the more I thought about it, the more suspicious I became. The vehicle we were driving belonged to—and had been equipped by—the Agency. An Agency man had suggested we take it. Why?
It could be that he felt bad for the things that had happened. It could be that he was letting us go out of the goodness of his heart, but I didn’t believe it. It was likely bugged. And there was no doubt in my mind that we were driving around in a huge tracking device.
Maybe Ryan sent us away—in his vehicle—because he wanted to see what we would say and where we would go. Maybe we weren’t the endgame. Maybe we were pawns. Which meant we had to ditch the SUV. Fast.
My eyes flew open and I bolted upright. “I need to go,” I said. “The first rest stop. It’s an emergency.”
Mom shot me a look. “Are you feeling all right? You want me to pull over now?” The concern in her voice almost made me want to cry.
“I’ll be fine until the next rest area,” I assured her. “But hurry.”
We couldn’t reach the rest stop quickly enough. I fidgeted more and more as each mile marker whizzed by. Mom kept giving me anxious glances and I’m sure she thought the worst.
“If you want me to pull over . . .”
“Rest stop, one mile,” Seth called from the backseat.
Mom looked relieved. Not nearly as relieved as I was… or would be once we got rid of the Escalade.
The turn signal tapped a staccato rhythm as she pulled off the road and into the parking area. She switched off the engine.
“Why don’t we all go,” I suggested, “so we won’t have to stop again.”
Mom gave me a strange look, but thankfully she didn’t argue. Seth, however, didn’t seem to get the message. He made no move to open his door until I twisted around in my seat and gave him the evil eye.
When he got out I grabbed his arm and pulled him clear of the SUV. He followed, but hesitantly. I’m sure he thought I’d lost my mind. “What is going on?”
“It may be nothing.” I glanced back at the Escalade. “It’s just that back at the apartment Stuart said he tracked everything, like it was standard procedure. Then, of course, there was that tracker on the plane. And then when Ryan gave us the keys . . .”
Mom nodded grimly. “I wondered about that.”
“So what are we going to do?” Seth asked.
I folded my arms. “We’re going to get another ride.”
Mom did the asking. We figured she’d seem more legitimate than a couple of teenagers, but still, I was amazed at how easy it was for her to swap cars.
She approached a guy who had stopped to buy a Coke from the vending machine. He was dressed in jeans and hiking boots, and wearing a North Face jacket. From where we were standing, I could see a large backpack in the back of his Jeep.
I couldn’t hear exactly what Mom said, but it didn’t take long for her to convince the hiker guy to trade vehicles with us. Even though it had been my idea, his response baffled me. I mean, he had to wonder why she would want to exchange a loaded, top-of-the-line Escalade—albeit with some bumper damage from the guardrail—for a rusted out, dented, plastic-for-windows Jeep. Normal people don’t do things like that. Plus in our matching gray sweats and bare feet, we looked like escaped convicts or something. Wouldn’t he at least consider that the Escalade might be stolen? But no, he didn’t even balk.
“You’re on,” he said, pulling his Jeep key off of a jangling key ring.
“Where are you headed?” Mom asked—a little too casually, I thought.
“Up the pass.”
“You going to hike the backcountry?” she asked.
He looked at her like she was an idiot. “Um, yeah.” He stopped just short of adding, “Duh.”
Perfect.
Mom and I stood together and watched him drive off. I hoped he enjoyed himself before the Agency caught up with him and demanded their property back.
We quickly inspected his Jeep. Mom was pleased to find that the gas tank was nearly full. That meant we wouldn’t have to stop for gas for a long time. Which was a good thing, considering that we had no money. I found his registration paper in the glove box.
“He’s from Bridgeport. Where’s that?”
“About eighty miles from here. It’s on the way to Spokane.”
“We’re going to Spokane?”
She bent to check the tire pressure. “I can access funds there.”
The finality in her voice didn’t invite questions, although I did wonder just how far-reaching that undercover operation she had been working in was. I had thought it was just her, Joe, and Stuart, but she must have contacts elsewhere. How else was she going access anything without the benefit of identification? I realized anew that there was a lot about my mom’s life that I didn’t understand.
“You’re sure he can reclaim his Jeep?” I asked her for the tenth time.
“We’ll leave it in a tow-away zone. They’ll impound it and send him notification.”
With that, Mom climbed into the driver’s seat and fastened her seat belt. I hesitated. “Do you mind if I ride in the back with Seth?”
She glanced back to where Seth was settling onto the small backseat. I could read all sorts of caution in her eyes and I understood her reserve; she didn’t want me to get hurt. But she and I both knew it was already too late for that. She sighed. “Fine. For now.”
I climbed into the back and Seth pulled me close to him. We were together. That was all that mattered for the moment.
Mom turned the key in the ignition. After two tries the Jeep’s engine roared to life. We rattled out of the rest stop—in the opposite direction from the Escalade.
Conversation was impossible inside the Jeep. The wind whistled through the flimsy windows and flapped the canvas roof. But I didn’t really want to talk, anyway. The only thing Seth and I had left to say was good-bye and I wasn’t ready for that yet.
We reached Bridgeport about one in the morning. It was a sleepy little town, snuggled up to the Columbia River. I knew that only because we had been driving alongside the river for several miles, and because a sign at the entrance to town proclaimed Bridgeport “Gateway to the Mighty Columbia River.” The whole town was only about six blocks deep and maybe a couple dozen blocks long.
“Forget a tow-away zone,” I said. “Everyone in town will probably recognize the guy’s Jeep on sight.”
“Yes,” Mom agreed. “It does pose a problem.”
“A problem? This makes it easier for him.”
“For him, yes.” Mom tapped her fingers on the steering wheel as we drove slowly down the street. “But it’s going to make our borrowing another car unnoticed more of a challenge.”
“Maybe we should keep going,” Seth put in. “Ditch the Jeep in the next town over.”
Mom shook her head. “Wouldn’t do much good. There’s nothing but small towns for at least another hour. Our hiking friend could have been picked up by now, and if so, we can’t afford to stay with his vehicle even one moment longer.”
We trawled the town along the waterfront until Mom saw what she was looking for. “Out-of-state plates,” she said, pointing to a Toyota pickup that looked like it had seen better days. “It’ll be snug for a while, but it will have to do.”
I, of course, didn’t mind being snug. I wasn’t too crazy about the stale cigarette smell in the truck, but I was beyond being picky. We left Bridgeport—and the Jeep—behind and turned east toward Spokane.
Remembering my mom’s advice, I snuggled close and rested my head on Seth’s shoulder. We had a two-hour drive ahead of us, and after that, who knew when we could sleep? Wrapped in his arms, I closed my eyes and allowed myself to dream.
I woke to the glow of a Denny’s sign.
We were parked on the outer edge of the parking lot and Seth was shaking my shoulder. “Time to wake up.”
Mom handed me a pair of cheap tennis shoes, the Wal-mart price tag still attached. “We’re dumping the truck here. It’s just a short walk to the hotel.”
I tore off the tag and slipped the shoes onto my feet. I was too tired to question when she had bought them. How she had bought them. Had she already “accessed” her funds? In the morning I would look for answers, but for the time being, all I wanted to think about was a hot shower and a warm bed. And the fact that Seth would be with me a little while longer.
Seth and I waited on a bench in front of the hotel while my mom went inside to register. Neither of us said anything for a long while.
He picked up my hand, turned it over in his. I hadn’t paid attention until then to exactly how filthy my hands were, with dirt caked black under my fingernails like a mechanic’s. Blistered from bushwhacking. Unattractive. But Seth didn’t seem to notice. He threaded his fingers through mine and looked into my eyes.
“I’ll have to go soon,” he said. “And then . . .”
I knew without hearing the words. Once Seth’s dad was safe, the Mulos would move on. Seth would become someone else. He could not risk contacting me again.
“I wish it were different,” he said.
“So do I.” My throat was so tight, I could barely get the words out.
“Where . . .” His voice cracked. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Where will you go from here?”
I frowned. “I haven’t really thought about it. I’m not sure if I can go home. Not until this is over.” I didn’t even know what “this” was, or if it would ever be over, but the words sounded right at the time.
“I’ll think of you,” he said.
I dropped my eyes so he wouldn’t see the tears welling up in them. “I’ll think of you, too,” I whispered.
Mom came out of the lobby then, the tiredness etched deep in the lines of her face. I looked up at her, questioning. “Did you get a room?”
She didn’t answer me. In fact, she didn’t even look at me. “Seth,” she said. “I need you to come with me for a moment.”