by Diana Layne
“No, not at all. But I’m not taking chances.” He scrambled to the cargo area, digging through his tools. Fear drove him to speeds he never imagined, not since those race riots back in the 60s and 70s. This was Texas and a right-to-carry state, but his guns were home. Lending MJ one the other day had been the first time he’d had cause to pull one out in over a decade.
A tire iron would have to suffice.
“Hop over into the driver’s seat and get ready to drive.”
“What are you doing?”
“Going out to give him a welcome, you be ready to drive away.”
Fear tightened her voice, which came out little more than a whisper. “No, Tex. I won’t leave you.”
“The baby, you have to get her out of here.” She nodded, and crawled over to the driver’s side.
“I won’t leave unless I think we’re in danger.” Dottie’s voice quivered.
“Just drive like hell and get help.” Too late to wish they had a cell phone, never had been a need in a town where practically no one was a stranger. He gave her a kiss, opened the side door and climbed out. “I love you, sugar.
“I love you, too.” Her eyes met his over Angel’s head.
“Keep watch.” He shut the door.
By miracle of miracles down the road behind him he saw a cop car approaching. But it was too far away and the man would get to the van before the cop did. Tex hefted his tool and ran forward. The man had already reached the van. He was moving to the passenger side.
“Hey, what are you doing?” Tex shouted. “You damn near killed us.”
The man turned to face Tex who noted details of the stranger. He was about six feet tall, muscular, dirty blond hair and a hell of a scar on his forehead that disappeared under his hair. “Sorry, I was trying to text a message and drive.” He’d slowed down, but kept walking a steady pace to the passenger door. “Is everyone okay?”
Tex didn’t recognize the guy as a local. “We’ll be fine.”
“I can help.”
“Stay away from that door.”
“I can’t do that.” The man pulled out a small Taurus revolver.
Tex froze. “What the hell do you want?”
“Just something in your van, and I’ll be on my way.”
“You’re not getting in that van, or you’ll be on your way for sure–to jail–when that cop gets up here.” Tex nodded his head toward the back of the van.
Scar head shot a quick glance in that direction. “Shit!” He took off running back to his car leaving Tex puzzling over the odd, alarming behavior.
No use fretting over it. He turned back to the van, stuck his head in the door and said, “Everything’s okay, I’m going to talk to the policeman, then we’ll get you to the hospital.”
“Tex, the milk will spoil.”
“Woman, I can buy some more milk.”
“No need to waste this.”
“We’ll stop by the house and put it in the fridge on the way, happy?”
She gave him a sweet smile that still couldn’t hide her pain.
“I’ll hurry.”
Officer Jenkins was stepped out of his car. His gaze went to the ding on the van. “Trouble?”
“Some asshole tried to run us off the road.”
“Really?”
“Not from here.”
“Odd.”
“Hit me in the front, as well.”
Jenkins walked to the front of the van. “He was serious about getting you off the road.”
“Yessir.”
“Any reason why?”
“When you pulled up he was walking toward the passenger door. Said he wanted something in the van. He had a gun.”
“A gun?” Disbelief tinged Jenkin’s voice.
“I reckon I know a damn gun when I see one.” No need to go into details about the make and model. Tex was known to the locals as a big-hearted mechanic, and no need to set off suspicions to have anyone digging into his past. Especially not Jenkins. Tex had caught the cop eyeing MJ a time or two, and not in a respectful way.
“Anything in that van he’d want?”
“Nothing. Unless it’s our groceries.”
“Mistaken identity?”
“He seemed pretty damn certain.”
“Anyone hurt?”
“Dottie hit her head. I want to take her to the hospital, have her checked.”
Officer Jenkins opened door. “Hello, Miz Myers. How’s your head?”
“I’ll survive.”
The policeman examined her scalp. “Quite a knot. Tex is right to get it checked. You can never be too careful with a head injury.” His gaze traveled to Angelina and he perked to attention.
“That MJ’s baby?”
“Yes,” Tex answered, noting the gleam in the cop’s eye.
“MJ been sick? I missed her at the dojo.”
Asked in an oh-so-casual tone, Tex noted, then before he could be satisfied that his judgment of the cop was right, that he had a hankering for MJ, Tex had another idea and frowned. “You give her that black eye she had?”
“She say that?”
“MJ doesn’t tell much.” Tex remembered the morning after she and the baby stayed in a hotel, she’d come in with a black eye, though she’d hidden it with makeup. Said she’d gotten it from her morning workout, but she hadn’t mentioned the name of her sparring partner.
“That’s for damn sure,” Jenkins muttered.
“Can we finish this later?” Tex asked.
“Sure. You can follow me.”
“We’re going by the house and put the milk and cold things in the fridge,” Dottie said.
Tex shook his head.
“Probably cold enough if you left them in the van,” the officer said.
“I don’t want to take any chances with food safety. I’m responsible for feeding children, don’t want them sick.”
Jenkins nodded, obviously knowing better than to argue with an injured woman who knew her business.
“I’ll meet you at the hospital then, get the details from Tex while the doc’s looking over you.”
At the hospital, Tex juggled Angelina while Dottie waited for the doctor on the examining table. Officer Jenkins stood next to him doing a follow-up on the accident, and all agreed it was quite suspicious behavior from the stranger.
Later, once they were home after Dottie had been given all clear by the doctor, she said, “I think that policeman is sweet on MJ.”
“He sure did manage to lead a lot of questions around to her,” was all Tex felt right agreeing to.
“Speaking of MJ,” Dottie said, “I checked the answering machine. She still hasn’t called.”
Tex patted her hand. “Nothing to worry about, sugar. Maybe she called and didn’t leave a message. Or maybe her phone’s just not charged.”
“We ought to consider getting that caller ID option, then we’d know for sure. My instincts say something’s not right. I better call her.” She made a move to get up, but Tex shushed her back into the easy chair.
“I’ll get the phone for you. You just sit still.”
“Tex, no need to spoil me.”
Still, she smiled at him, laugh lines cutting through the plumpness of her ebony face, crinkling by her eyes. A face showing some signs of age, but to him, she’d always be beautiful. He was so damned lucky.
“Here’s the phone, sugar.”
She punched in the number. “No. No answer.” Laugh lines were replaced with deeper worry lines.
“I’m sure she’s all right. She’s a strong woman, capable of handling most anything.”
“I hope you’re right.”
It wasn’t Dottie’s words so much as her tone that sent a sudden uneasy feeling through Tex that he couldn’t explain away as leftover adrenaline-jitters.
Chapter 22
It took thirty minutes for Tasha and MJ to trudge their way back to the hotel, and by that time MJ wanted nothing more than a hot shower and warm bed. But the tantalizing thought was only a f
antasy. They had to head out of town as soon as possible.
“I bet Cy’s about to pee his pants,” Tasha commented.
“The dog doesn’t have pants. But I’ll take him out for you since you need a shower.”
“Not even going to quibble.”
The little dog bounced around, happy to see them. “Come on, dog.” MJ hooked on his leash. “I’m going to get a hot chocolate from one of those vending machines, want one?”
“Sure.”
MJ grabbed some dollars, the dog’s leash and left Tasha to her shower.
Later, on the way out of town, with barbecue in hand, MJ told Tasha when she reached the highway, “Take me back to Indiana so I can get my car.”
“Not going to take me in?”
MJ snorted. “As if. After I get hold of Dottie, I’ll call Jeff, and you two can decide where to meet.”
“Yeah, right,” Tasha said.
“I’m going back to a normal life. You might try it.”
“Normal? We were raised to be spies, for God’s sake. What kind of normal is that?”
“Exactly. And what good has being spies done us? Our parents were killed, I was nearly killed, you’ve screwed men to death and we nearly starred in a BDSM video for the fun of it, and we didn’t learn much of anything in the meantime, and no, ma’am, I’m not doing this anymore. I am finished with this.” MJ drew a breath. “I want a normal life.”
“And what do you know about normal?” Tasha asked quietly.
“Not much, but I’m trying.” MJ dialed Dottie’s number again, but her relief when Dottie answered the phone evaporated in an instant.
“Oh, thank goodness,” the older woman said.
Her tone alarmed MJ. “What’s wrong? Is Angel sick?”
“No, she’s fine. She’s sleeping. But earlier, we were in a small fender bender.”
“She was with you?”
“We were on the way home from the grocery.”
“But she’s okay?”
“Yes.”
“Anyone else hurt?”
“Not much. I got a little knot on my head.”
“You weren’t driving were you?”
“Tex was driving, but it was the weirdest thing. This stranger deliberately ran us off the road.”
Bizarre behavior gave MJ a feeling of unease. “Deliberately? Why would he do that?”
She heard Tex say, “Now, Dottie,” in the background and wondered about it.
“I don’t know, he was just strange. He told Tex he’d been texting and it was an accident.”
“But everyone’s okay, you’re going to be okay?”
“Yes, fine, fine.”
MJ breathed a sigh after a very long day. “All right then, I’ll be back in town soon. Day after tomorrow at the latest.”
When she disconnected the call, Tasha said to her, “Something happen?”
“Apparently they were in a car accident, Dottie seems to think the driver deliberately ran them off the road, but Tex disagreed. I heard him in the background.” After MJ went on to explain, Tasha commented, “Weird though. Run off the road by a stranger in that little piss ant town.”
MJ stiffened at Tasha’s tone. “There’s crazy drivers all over. You can’t think this has anything to do with us?”
“I can’t?”
“Whoever is behind this thought he had us.”
“Until you sent him that message, complete with pictures.”
“But then that would mean he had someone in place in Whiddon. That’s just–”
“Good planning? Covering your six in case something goes wrong? Plan B if Plan A doesn’t work? All things we were taught, why wouldn’t someone else use the same tactics?”
“Then that someone is likely still there. But what for? What was the purpose of running them off the road?”
“To send you a message perhaps?”
“Perhaps. Or . . .”
“Or what?”
“I wonder if it was Ben?”
“Huh?”
“Trying to get Angel, bring us in like that?”
“A good thought, especially if he wasn’t privy to us being captured. But would Ben really make an old couple wreck?”
“I don’t think so. He’d make sure they weren’t hurt, you’re right.” MJ knew that without a doubt.
“But someone else wouldn’t have the same compunction if he were under orders to get Angel. What happened to that guy?”
“I don’t know. I think Dottie was going to tell me something else but Tex stopped her. I’ll call her back.” MJ picked up her phone.
“Wait. Whatever she tells you, try not to alarm them. They’re pretty old, right?”
“Close to retirement age. But Tex is ex-military and he was in the CIA with my dad when I was a baby, before your family came over from Russia. Tex is a pretty tough old bird.”
“Tough or not, he’s still old. And out of shape to deal with someone who’s trained.”
“You’re not making me feel better.”
“Face facts. If a professional is out to get Angel, then an old ex-military-slash-CIA guy is not going to stop him. Tex is old and years out of the business. Likely he’ll just get himself killed.”
MJ’s body started shaking again. Damn jitters. Nothing but jitters for her today. Where’d they come from all the sudden? She clamped her lips together until she thought she could speak without her voice quavering. Was it caring for someone innocent, being responsible for a life that made her feel like this? “If the guy was going to take her, why didn’t he take her when he ran them off the road?”
“Maybe a warning?”
Breathe, breathe, breathe, MJ told herself. Deep breath. “We need to get there.”
“Heading that way, faster if we go straight there without a detour to get your car.”
“Yes.” MJ’s phone rang. She looked at the caller ID and answered, “Dottie?”
“MJ, Officer Jenkins was just here, asking us questions about you and where you were.”
That was completely unexpected. “Um. . .why?”
“He said there’s a BOLO, Be on the Lookout, on you and some other woman you might know?”
“Say what?”
“Something about being wanted for murder?”
“Jesus Christ.”
“It’s all some misunderstanding, isn’t it?”
“Obviously.”
“I mean something like that’s not going to help your chances with Angel.”
Angel. “Listen, Dottie, were you going to tell me something else earlier about the wreck and Tex stopped you?”
“He didn’t want me to worry you.”
“What? It might have something to do with this BOLO.”
“How could the two be related?”
She had to remember Tex wanted Dottie protected. “I can’t tell you any more over the phone. But it is important.”
“Well, then the man who ran us off the road had a gun.”
“What?” Over the pounding in her ears, she could hear Tex in the background saying, “What’re you tellin’ her that for?”
Dottie shushed him, and then responded, “He told Tex he wanted something out of the van, but Tex wasn’t going to let him get in.”
“Did Tex have a gun as well?”
“No, only a tire tool.”
“And that kept the guy with the gun away?”
“I don’t think it would, but Officer Jenkins drove by.”
That pesky cop was everywhere, wasn’t he? Reluctantly MJ realized she most likely needed to be grateful for that this time.
“So did Officer Jenkins question the man?”
“No, he ran off, haven’t seen him since.”
“Strange behavior all right. What’d he look like?” MJ asked, hoping Dottie wouldn’t describe Ben.
“It was dark, but Tex said he had shaggy blond hair, sort of dirty blond, and he was pretty tall, muscular, and he had a scar on his forehead.”
“A scar?”
“Very distinctive Tex said.”
Ben had no scar, thank goodness, though it could be makeup. But he also didn’t have blond hair. Again, could be a disguise. She might never know who the guy was, but she had to get back to Angelina fast. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“I’m not sure that’s the best idea, with that BOLO.”
“That’s just a misunderstanding.”
“Even so, Officer Jenkins seems to have a fancy for you, I think he’s going to hang around here. We can meet you–”
“No, that’s okay. It’s a good thing the cop is there.” Don’t. Gag. “I’ll be in touch. Take care.”
“It’s a good thing the cop is there?” Tasha asked.
“Yeah. Even though there’s a BOLO out on us”
“A BOLO? For . . . ?”
“For murder.” MJ closed her eyes. It seemed as if it were one disaster after another. Hadn’t she left this life behind?
“That was fast. So the cop’s hanging out at Tex’s house?”
“I don’t think so. Just hanging close, being a pest apparently.” She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. “It might be better to swing by and pick up my car—we’d be split up.”
“And your little pink car would be a bright beacon to any cops. I can get us there faster. And no cop can catch my car.”
“A high speed chase would attract more attention than my pink car.”
“That’s why we’ll stay off the main highways as much as possible. Plug the info into my GPS and find us a back way. In the meantime,” Tasha reached across and pulled something out of the glove compartment, “I have my little cop detector here. And it jams radars, too.”
“How about just slow down?”
Tasha sighed, “Okay, so I’ll slow down. A little.”
Once MJ got the route plugged in, she pulled out her phone. “Who you calling?”
“Ben. Then Jeff.”
Ben’s phone yielded no answer. “Okay. I’ll try Jeff.”
“What for?”
“See if I can get him to call off the dogs.”
“He’s probably the one who sicced the dogs on us in the first place.”
MJ had to consider that as a possibility, definitely not one she liked. Being manipulated by Jeff and all that implied.
Jeff answered on the first ring. “What the hell is going on?”
“I could ask the same thing.”