“The equipment’s sophisticated and way beyond the means of most criminals.” Jake frowned, clearly thinking hard. “But a good computer hacker could probably do it. Why?”
Her heartbeat accelerated. “I thought someone might have followed me inside the store—I paid in cash, but I used the ATM.”
“No one could have traced an ATM withdrawal and shown up within just a few minutes.”
“It might be my imagination running wild.”
“Maybe not. Harrison claims he lost his tail before he arrived at the cabin, but they might have picked us up as we drove into town.”
“Wouldn’t that take a lot of planning? Like from some big organization such as the FBI?”
“Maybe.”
Cassidy frowned. “You told me that the clerk at the print shop said the two guys flashed FBI official-looking badges at him. Could they have been FBI?”
“Why would the FBI be after either of us? Makes no sense.”
“Why would anyone be after either of us?” she asked in frustration.
Jake had no answer. But clearly she’d started him thinking along other lines. “I have a friend in the FBI.” Jake dialed his car’s speakerphone so Cassidy could hear. “Special Agent Fields, please.”
It took only a moment for the line to ring through. “Fields speaking.”
“Hi, Sam, it’s Jake.”
“Where are you? No, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. I talked to Harrison last night.”
Jake’s employee had been busy.
“He woke me up and asked me to do some checking. Those names came up clean.”
So Jake had been right. The possible FBI identification their pursuers had flashed at the clerk in the print shop had to be fake—just using it was a felony. But whoever was after them obviously wasn’t worried about the law.
“Could the investigation be buried deeper than the usual files?”
“Unlikely. Whatever kind of trouble you’re in, Jake, it’s organized.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
“The cops found no prints or fibers or DNA at Atkins’s house that didn’t belong there. Of course, forensics isn’t done with the evidence yet. But the place is clean. Too clean, if you get my drift.”
“You mean someone came back and wiped it?”
“Looks like.”
Jake hung up the phone and Cassidy gave him time to digest the current turn of events. The average citizen would have been caught by their pursuers long ago. Without Jake’s contacts, knowledge and resources, she would never have escaped.
Uneasily she looked out the side mirror at the traffic behind them. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Spanish moss draped towering oak trees that shaded parts of the two-lane road. Farm trucks pulled over as a fire truck whizzed past, siren blaring. Jake pulled over, too.
In the far distance, ahead of them, she saw either rain clouds or smoke. Considering the fire truck’s speed, she figured lightning or a stray cigarette butt had started another fire. With the drought worsening, many acres had been lost. Cassidy had seen television news of homes, even entire towns enveloped by uncontrollable flames.
Jake pulled back onto the highway, and behind them Cassidy saw other cars do the same. But one particular vehicle made her forehead break out in a sweat. The vehicle wasn’t flowing in the normal traffic pattern. It passed two and three cars at once, swerving back and forth dangerously.
“Jake! Behind us.”
JAKE TOOK ONE LOOK in the rearview mirror, watched the car swerve in and out of traffic with precision and stepped on the gas. Whoever was sitting behind the wheel of that car knew his business, and although Jake had a head start, the SUV couldn’t match the other vehicle’s maneuverability on the road.
When Jake couldn’t pass safely on the left, he used the shoulder to pass illegally on the right. A cop car and a speeding ticket would be welcome right now.
Up ahead the traffic wound through the rolling hills like a lazy snake. A smoky haze impaired his vision.
Jake reached into the standard-equipment satchel Harrison had left him behind the front seat, pulled out a pair of binoculars and handed them to Cassidy. “We may have to go off-road to lose them.”
“But, Jake, there’s a fire up ahead. We could be driving right into it if we leave the road.”
Although she protested, she focused the binoculars. Jake’s illegal use of the shoulder earned him angry glares from other drivers, honking horns and the occasional finger. He didn’t blame them, but he didn’t react to their frustration. He had his hands full staying ahead of the chase car, which was gaining on them by the minute.
“Cassidy, find me a dirt road, a bike path, a deer trail.”
“I’m looking.”
He bit his tongue to refrain from telling her to look harder. Cassidy was doing as he asked, and he knew she had to be frightened. Although keeping her alive was more important than worrying about what she might think of him, he still took care not to push her too hard. So far, he’d managed to keep the veneer of civilized polish he’d fought so hard to acquire. Not only didn’t he want Cassidy to see him lose his cool, he wasn’t sure if she’d continue to cooperate if she saw how he fought when he was fighting for his life. Jake knew all the dirty tricks. He’d used them to survive and if necessary, he’d use them to protect Cassidy, but he’d prefer to avoid situations where he would have to.
“See anything yet?”
“Maybe. We need to get closer.”
“I’m trying.”
The highway’s shoulder vanished and forced Jake to drive on the grass. With the way the SUV bumped and swayed, and with the smoke thickening up ahead, he didn’t know how Cassidy could focus through the binoculars.
“I see something. Maybe. Can you cut across the road?” she asked.
With bumper-to-bumper traffic slowed to less than five miles an hour, there was no room to cross the highway. Jake simply held his hand on the horn and prayed someone would move out of the way. Luckily several drivers complied, leaving him room to maneuver.
Jake drove as quickly as he dared. While SUVs were comfortable vehicles, they tended to be top-heavy and overturned more easily than a low-slung car. Hurrying wouldn’t do them any good if he rolled into a ditch. But he longed to hide somewhere before their pursuers could see where they’d gone.
“There!” Cassidy pointed to a fenced pasture.
Along the fence, a dirt road beckoned. Without hesitation, Jake skidded onto the road. Dust flew up, marking the spot where they’d turned. Jake hoped the trail he’d left would be obscured by the smoke.
Cassidy flicked on the radio, searching for a Tampa station. “Maybe we can find out about the fire.”
But she couldn’t find any news stations with up-tothe-minute information about the fire. They were on their own. And if he wasn’t mistaken, the smoke had thickened. The dirt road was narrowing, and tree branches scraped the vehicle’s sides. Jake pressed on. While the smoke provided excellent cover from their pursuers, it could also mean they were driving straight into a forest fire.
“The smoke’s worse.” Cassidy gave up on the radio and adjusted the air-conditioning fan. “Maybe we should turn around.”
“I’m hoping this dirt road leads to a crossroad.” They hit a bump. “Maybe something with pavement.”
“Do I get a vote?” Cassidy braced her hands on the dash. “I’d rather face a bullet than burn to death.”
Jake heard the fear in her voice and couldn’t blame her. Yet he knew their pursuer was behind them. He’d rather take his chances with the unknown in front of him. Still, he tried to reassure Cassidy. “People don’t usually die from the actual fire but from smoke inhalation.”
“Great. I feel ever so much better now.”
Jake reached over, took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. He refused to lie and tell her they’d be fine when he had no idea if that was true. Cassidy squeezed his hand back, and then, as if realizing that he needed it to drive, she le
t go.
She raised the binoculars to her eyes. “There’s a road up ahead.” Her voice rose with hope and excitement, then leveled with disappointment. “But it’s not paved. Still dirt.”
Jake reached the intersection to find no more than another dirt path through the woods. Now they had a choice to make. They’d been traveling north. Should they head west, back toward Brooksville and the way they’d come? Or should they head east, toward their destination, Gainesville, and hope they’d somehow bypassed the worst of the fire?
As much as Jake hated to stop, he needed to make an intelligent informed decision. He needed to consult his map. But since he didn’t know exactly where he’d left the highway or how far they’d driven in a straight line since then, he had to guess at their location.
Suddenly an idea struck him, and he smacked his forehead at his stupidity. He’d forgotten that part of the gear Harrison packed was a global-positioning-satellite system. They’d recently added the device to their standard equipment, and Jake had plain forgotten about it. Mistakes like that could get them killed.
But he wasn’t about to waste time blaming himself for the error. Not now, anyway. “Damn it. I forgot about the GPS.”
“The what?”
“It’s a positioning instrument.”
Cassidy frowned. “You have a navigational system in the SUV?”
“A portable unit.” He pulled out the device, hit a button, and a satellite automatically fed him their longitude and latitude and then plotted his location on a map. Although the smoke was thick enough to restrict their vision to a hundred yards, Jake now knew exactly where he was. He pointed to the blinking dot on the screen. “This is where we are.”
“So we aren’t lost?” Cassidy still sounded skeptical, and he couldn’t blame her.
He’d pinpointed their exact location and where they needed to go. But he still didn’t know if any roads connected the two spots.
“We aren’t much better off than we were before, are we.” Although Cassidy clearly tried to hide the discouragement in her voice, he heard it. “We still can’t pinpoint the fire’s location relative to where we are now.”
“Yes, we can!”
Again he reached into his equipment bag. “These are infrared goggles. Heat sensitive. We use them to determine if someone’s inside a building.” Jake slipped the goggles over his eyes. The world suddenly changed from greens and grays to reds and browns. Red indicated heat.
Cassidy coughed in the worsening smoke. “Can you see anything?”
The goggles hadn’t been designed for the purpose for which he was using them, but they worked quite well all the same. “The fire is west of here. Since we left the highway, we bypassed the worst of it.” Jake removed the goggles and grinned. “I think we’ve lost them, Sunshine. I’ve seen no trace of a car sending dust into the air behind.”
“Really?”
“We’re safe now. We can just head on up to the University of Florida.”
It took another hour of patient driving and a few U-turns, but Jake finally found a small paved road that led to a two-lane road that deposited them on a highway. At noon, only a few hours behind schedule, they stopped for gas and lunch.
Jake tried to check in with Harrison after their meal. When he said hello and Harrison told him he had the wrong number, Jake knew the line was bugged again.
With a frown, he turned off the phone’s power. He’d stop at a pay phone and keep his call under sixty seconds so it couldn’t be traced.
“How did they bug the line so fast?” Cassidy asked, figuring out what had happened.
“Usually someone puts a device in the phone line or in the receiver. But Harrison’s too smart to let that happen. We have detection equipment at the office.”
“So how’s it being done?”
“Through satellite transmission or at the phone company itself.”
With a sinking feeling, Jake wondered once again exactly who he was up against. This foe had resources way beyond the normal criminal’s means. Jake had heard rumors the government could listen to any phone call through the new digital technology. If the government could tap in, maybe others could, too. But who?
Eventually Jake found a pay phone. Harrison answered on the first ring. “The bodyguard you hired can’t find your younger sister, and the other guard hasn’t checked in.”
“Keep trying. Anything else?”
“Don’t come back here. There’s heat everywhere.”
“Heat” meant that whoever was after him was checking with his neighbors, friends and co-workers. They would keep watching his house and Cassidy’s, their places of work, their regular haunts.
“Any idea what’s going on?” Jake asked with mounting frustration.
“I was hoping you could tell me.”
On that unsatisfactory note, the conversation ended. Jake and Cassidy finished their drive to the university, but Jake took no chances. After exiting the highway, he ducked into the first car wash he could find. He gave the vehicle a thorough washing, including the interior, so that no dirt, mud or foliage could identify the area where the car had been driven. He dropped Cassidy off at a corner store before going to a used-car lot where he swapped the SUV, trading down and leaving a fake name that matched the SUV’s title.
While at the store, Cassidy shopped with cash, buying them hats, sunglasses and even a few wigs to use as disguises. Jake transferred their belongings to the old model BMW that he had bought, careful to leave nothing behind. Jake wanted an inconspicuous car that had some power. He knew Cassidy felt safer with his deception, but his ruse would only take them so far. Whoever was after him had technology and resources that were far above the ordinary.
If Jake hadn’t known better, he might have thought he was dealing with a government operation. But if the feds wanted him, the cops would have put out an all-points bulletin for his arrest. And that hadn’t happened. Not back at the restaurant where he and Cassidy had eaten dinner and all this chasing business had started. Later, Detective Fields would have told him if the cops were after him.
Luckily Jake wasn’t without resources of his own. He had plenty of cash, several fake IDs, even one for Cassidy in which he could insert her picture. But the IDs would only go so far.
The fake documents might get him onto an airplane and out of the country, but they were vulnerable to a background check or even a casual investigation. Their faked driver’s licenses, no matter how carefully forged, wouldn’t survive a check with the Division of Motor Vehicles, where there were no such persons on file.
However, Jake didn’t count himself out. He had his own connections and his wits. And if all else failed, he had a Swiss bank account, lots of cash and passports so that they could leave the country. While those kinds of documents were unusual for most P.I.s, Jake specialized in missing persons, and he often had to search for them outside the U.S. So he was always prepared.
He hoped it wouldn’t come to that. Jake had no intention of leaving his sisters—not before they’d even had a chance to meet.
He picked Cassidy up in the new vehicle and kept his contingency plans to himself. No need to worry Cassidy unnecessarily. No need to get closer to her than necessary. The only good part about the pursuit today had been that he had been too busy to dwell on their kiss last night. Good Lord, the woman could kiss! He’d closed that off, done a good job of pretending it had never happened. But in quiet moments the kiss came back to haunt him.
For his peace of mind, he wished he could leave her behind, somewhere safe. But where? Hiding became difficult, almost impossible, when he didn’t know who was after them. They had to keep going, figure out the puzzle before their pursuers caught up with them.
If Jake hadn’t had Cassidy with him, he would have considered setting a trap and letting whoever was after him walk into it. A risky move, but one that could yield results. But he didn’t dare take that chance with Cassidy’s life. Although she was holding up well, he wouldn’t place her in that kind of dan
ger—not while he had a choice.
Running while they searched for clues was still their best option. So he would keep Cassidy with him. Twenty-four/seven. Although he dreaded the evening hours when they were alone and his thoughts turned from business to personal matters, no way could he leave her unprotected. Right now, wherever he went, she went. Wherever they finally slept tonight, they would be together. And she’d want answers to the questions he’d seen in her eyes. Questions about why he’d pushed her away from that kiss. Questions about his feelings. Questions about his thoughts.
Only, he didn’t have any answers.
Chapter Seven
Cassidy tugged on the curly auburn wig with the fly-away bangs that hid her blond hair. The damn thing itched in the heat, and she hoped the makeup that changed her complexion didn’t run and expose her real skin tone. She glanced at Jake and refrained from chuckling. The dark-haired, light-eyed and olive-skinned detective had been transformed into someone she never would have recognized, thanks to a makeup kit he kept for disguises in the same bag as his electronic gear. Nonprescription contact lenses made his eyes a deep-sea green. Dark facial makeup made him look Hispanic, and a rakish mustache and hat completed his disguise.
But when he spoke with a Spanish accent to the secretary at the university’s admissions office, Cassidy had to keep her lower jaw from dropping. Jake had missed his calling. He could have been an actor. He’d even changed his walk, strutting, rather than gliding.
The smile he gave the woman was pure charm. “I need to look up a student’s records from over thirty years ago, ma’am.”
“Thirty years ago?”
“Sí. My parents went to university here.”
The secretary shook her head. “Our computer records don’t go back that far.” She pushed a form toward Jake. “If you fill this request out, someone might get back to you, but don’t hold your breath.”
Jake ignored the form. “I was told it would be easier to apply for medical school if I could prove my parents attended the university.”
The Hidden Years Page 9