“If you haven’t figured it out, I’m not going to tell you on the off chance that we’re wrong. The more you know—”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. The more danger I am in. I’m sick of it.”
“I know.” His features reassembled themselves into the grim face she’d grown accustomed to during her stint in “captivity.” Then, as if the light went on, Erika understood.
Disgusted summed up her personal assessment of cluelessness. She felt betrayed by her own intellect. No one had ever called Erika Polowski vain, but she certainly entertained no false modesty either. She knew when a man was interested and either accepted it or rejected him—a simple process of elimination. Nice, interesting men received some measure of encouragement, and all others she simply disregarded with an obviousness that left no doubt of her lack of interest. Simple, but effective.
Keith occupied a category all his own. Had he not been religious, she’d have put him in the “cream of the crop” camp, alongside a very few others. Unfortunately, the religion thing made her very uncomfortable—particularly since Corey was probably correct. Guys like Keith probably didn’t even consider women who weren’t religious too. It only made sense, and she respected them for it. What was the point of having a religion in the first place if it was so easy to toss aside for something else? There were less restrictive hobbies out there.
The guy had probably been chewing himself out for even noticing her. Well, she could be flattered that he did anyway. A glance at the mirror showed only his eyes—focused intently on the rush hour traffic surrounding them. It occurred to her that some of the stern intensity of his eyes showed most in their color. Steel gray, noticeable even as far back as she was, they seemed to reflect harshness and coldness that she otherwise wouldn’t have expected.
“Keith?”
“You ok?”
“I’m good. Um, I think you need to remember something.” She had to choose her words carefully, but he needed to change some of his thinking.
“What’s that?”
“Yeah, I’m a victim here. I didn’t ask for this, and I was taken without my consent. But, Keith, if I hadn’t been, I’d likely be dead. Sorry if it offends you, but I am grateful, and it’s a good thing that I am.”
Irritation washed over him anew as Erika reminded him of her obligation toward him and the Agency. She was right, and he hated it. He hated every bit of it. This oddly placed loyalty drove him to the brink of insanity and back again--repeatedly. Karen was right; he was grouchy.
He had to get a grip. His job required him to protect people. He hadn’t felt as guilty about Mr. Bruner, and Donald was an old guy who probably couldn’t handle the stress as well as someone Erika’s age. Regardless of how distasteful aspects of the job could be, it was imperative that he regain control of his issues and get back to being the professional he’d trained to be. Time to grow up.
He glanced in the rearview mirror and started to tell her to lie back down on the seat, but something in her made him stop. What was the point anyway? Darkness would surround them soon, and there was no reason to make her feel even tenser than she already was. This’d be over as soon as someone found Helen. He had to hang on until then. Just until then.
Erika’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Keith?”
“Yeah?”
“Why do religious people read the Bible?”
The answer came before he had a chance to consider his words. “Because Christians believe that the Bible is God’s recorded Word for mankind.”
“What does that even mean?” Disbelief flooded her voice.
“It means that we believe that every word in the book was written to tell us what God wants us to know about us, Him, and how to connect to Him.” It sounded even more convoluted than his first explanation, but Keith had never been comfortable explaining his faith. The biggest failure of his Christian walk was, in his opinion anyway, his inability to be ready to explain the “hope within.”
“Ok, so what does that mean?”
“Why do you ask?”
Her laughter rang out through the van. “You aren’t very good at convincing people to believe things your way.”
“Well, you’re right. Then again, I don’t do that, so that might explain why.”
“Why not? I thought the point of being religious was to get everyone else to be religious too.”
For the next mile, Keith considered how to respond to her. She was focused on religion, but he needed to find a way to explain that religion was only a small part of what his faith meant to him—all without preaching. Frustration mounted and as he glanced in the mirror, the look on her face told him that she had already started to lose interest.
“Erika, it’s not that simplistic. What you see as ‘religion,’ I see as a relationship. There is religion too, but the point is man’s need for God.”
“Why? Why do we need God?”
He swallowed, his mouth going dry. At last, a new idea came to him. “Have you ever wondered why there is so much evil in the world?”
“Um, who hasn’t? That evil is partly why rational people don’t waste their time with the idea of an all-loving God.” Then, as if she realized what she’d said, Erika added, “I’m sorry, Keith. No offense.”
“None taken. That’s just the point, though. It’s because mankind doesn’t have God filling their hearts that life is the way it is.”
Before she could respond, Keith swerved and slammed on his brakes. His eyes widened and he shouted for her to hold on as a car full of teenagers, careening out of control, slid sideways into the van. It rocked over on two wheels, hesitated, and then dropped to the highway on its side.
Glass shattered, and Keith hung from the shoulder belt. That would hurt when he released it, but he had no choice. “You ok?”
“Yeah. I’m just hanging here, but I’m upside down.”
“I’m coming.”
He released the belt, tried to land on his back instead of his head, and nearly succeeded. Scrambling to the back, he tried to support her as he unhooked the seatbelt. They stumbled through the glass to the driver’s door and he prepared to hoist her out. Just as she flung the door open, he whispered into her ear. “It’s dark enough that you can hide. Find some kind of building, shrub—something—and hide. I’ll find you. I’ll whistle Dixie when I’m looking for you. Go.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Ignore me when I call for you. Go!”
When Keith sent her from the scene of the accident, Erika was sure she’d never see him again. Part of her, that self-preservationist part of every human, listened without question. Fleeing seemed not to be an option. However, once hidden by a ditch filled with debris, she had second thoughts. Without Keith, the chances of survival, if they were being hunted, dropped nearly to non-existent. The desire to return grew heavy—nearly overwhelming—but he’d been right each time he’d given her an order. She couldn’t ignore him now.
His voice called to her. “Where are you going? What—what about your stuff! Come back here! You can’t just leave the scene of an accident…”
So that was his angle. Ok, she could work with that. The nearest building was a crumbling barn, but she knew he’d be livid if she went to hide out in such an obvious place. That thought made her smile. She was learning to think like him.
On the chance that anyone watched her, Erika continued toward the barn, hoping to slip out of sight behind it. Her feet tripped over ruts in the field, sending her sprawling over the rough ground, but she didn’t hesitate. Back on her feet, with her stomach scraped and bleeding from contact with sticks in the ground, she continued to stumble across the field until at last, she reached the barn. From there, things looked dire. There simply wasn’t anywhere else to hide.
Several hundred yards away stood a large tree—oak, if her knowledge of trees was remotely accurate. It seemed risky, but the barn was so obvious, she had to try. Although tall grasses grew behind the barn, Erika chose not to try to hide. She’d get there faste
r if she just hurried. It might be the wrong move, but she was comfortable with it. Trying to hide in the grass, crawling on hands and knees would only cause pain and make her more vulnerable in the end—or so it seemed.
Two garter snakes, obviously placed there by evil forces to draw attention to her as she squealed like a little girl, sent her dancing across the meadow even faster than ever. Wading through the grasses proved to be harder work than she had expected, and Erika arrived at the tree exhausted and drenched in perspiration. The highway was so far away now, that even the lights flashed more like dots than bars. Surely, no one could see her now.
After circling the tree a few times, Erika chose the most comfortable looking branch and began her climb. Near the trunk, several branches up, there seemed to be a fork that’d allow her to rest her back against the tree without having to dangle her legs indefinitely. She just hoped it’d work.
Erika had expected to sit up there for half an hour—an hour at most—but this was ridiculous. It’d been at least two or three, and she desperately needed a restroom. Her brilliant idea of chugging all the liquids she could stuff down her so that Keith would let her out of the van semi-frequently had backfired—badly. If he didn’t arrive soon, Erika would be forced to climb down the tree.
Despite her protesting bladder, Erika managed to remain perched up there much longer than she’d anticipated. Just as she stretched her leg to work the blood back through it before attempting a descent, she heard the faint whistling of “Dixie” coming from the opposite direction she’d expected.
Her eyes strained to see, but through the leaves, in the slight duskiness that approached, and with her body screaming for relief, she found it hard to focus. Seconds later, Keith passed right beneath her, still whistling, meandering across the field as if he hadn’t a care in the world. She didn’t know if Dixie was a popular song during the War Between the States, but she couldn’t resist whistling back a few bars of the Battle Hymn of the Republic.
She hadn’t known what to expect, but an answering bar of Dixie followed by uncontrollable laughter wasn’t it. “In a tree. I wondered, but I didn’t think you’d actually do it.”
“Well, I did,” she grunted, “and now I’m not sure I can get out, and once I do, I’ve gotta have some privacy, so just go away.”
“I wondered if those water bottles would bite you in the backside—so to speak.”
“Oh, that was bad… really bad.”
Once she started after him, calling his name, Keith returned, meeting her halfway. “The truck is back there. I brought it around behind just in case.”
“So you do think it was suspicious?”
He shook his head. “Nah, those teenagers were racing and there just wasn’t room for three of us.”
“So why the whole clandestine thing?”
Keith pulled a granola bar from his pocket. “Because there were news copters and at least one news van. We could have been seen.”
“Argh! It’s like we never get a break.” Before she could continue her frustrated rant, Erika thought of something else. “Wait, where’d you get a truck?”
“I got the tow truck to drop me off at the office and slipped in. Man, I almost got caught several times—and I can’t guarantee that Mark didn’t just look away—stole the keys from the rack, and high-tailed it out of there.”
“Ok, you’ve got some big, fat, hai—”
“Don’t say it. Just don’t.”
“Well, it’s true.”
Keith gave an exaggerated sigh. “Well, true or not, some things are too revolting to mention.”
“You know, I could have way too much fun with those words, but I won’t—probably won’t, anyway.”
The truck wasn’t anything like Erika imagined or expected. Leftover from the mid-eighties, the Chevy S-10 pickup had seen much, much better days. She was certain that with a swift kick to the undercarriage, the whole thing would disintegrate into a pile of rust and crumbling vinyl.
“Well, you certainly didn’t choose luxury, did you?”
“I took what was cheap to drive and inconspicuous.”
“Where to?” Erika sighed in relief that the inside, while dilapidated, was at least clean.
“To get you some food. If it has a drive-thru, it’s all yours.”
“Gee, you’re such a generous date.”
“Did you see that?”
Mark nodded, giving Karen a look that clearly said, “It’s about time too.”
“Do you think we should check the news?” Karen’s hand reached for the remote.
“Good idea.”
It took several minutes for the story to update, but at last, they saw the familiar van, crumpled and on its side near the Brookside exit. Claire strolled back into the room, arms laden with coffee, and shrieked. “Is that—!”
“Shh!” Karen grabbed the tray of paper cups before Claire decorated the carpet with them. “Do you want to freak out the natives?”
“This native is freaked! Is that or is that not my cousin?” As Keith turned to point across a field, his face showed plainly on the screen. Mark swore. “That just increased danger exponentially. If Helen is watching, she knows they were here.” Once more, a few expletives flew out of Mark’s mouth before he was conscious of them.
Claire winced, turning to Karen, surprised. “I always thought Keith was way too uptight about people and ‘foul language,’” she exaggerated the words as she made air quotes, “but man, you do get used to not hearing it, don’t you?”
“Sorry.”
“No, it’s ok. I was just surprised. I’m not exactly a virgin mouth myself. I used to use the most vulgar words like people overuse the word ‘like.’”
“Well, Keith is right. There are usually better ways to express yourself, but I don’t have time to think about that. I need to find a way to trap Helen and fast.”
“He’ll check in, Mark. When he does, maybe I should tell him I’ll take Erika and we can see if Myra is ready for a stint. She could cut and dye her hair like Erika’s and we could bait Helen. Make sure he gets seen somewhere?”
“Too many variables.” Mark swallowed hard. It’d be a horrible thing to do, but it was the only thing that made sense. “I’m thinking you warn Keith however you can, and I report the truck stolen. Keith can try to run at first, and then when they’re arrested, we’re there to grab Helen when she tries to bail Erika and or Keith out.”
“What makes you think she’ll do it herself? Wouldn’t she just send someone else?”
Mark shook his head. “She’s not a professional, she’s arrogant, and let’s face it, Erika would go with someone that she knew and ‘trusted,’ right? As far as she knows, we don’t know she’s killed Jill and Anthony.” The man’s voice cracked and he gripped his desk as he tried to stuff down his emotions.
“Ok. I’ll tell him. Are you sure it’s safe enough for Erika?”
“Aside from getting out, jail is likely the safest place for her. Tell Keith to have her hit the officer. We don’t want them thinking she’s a victim.”
Claire listened to the plans around her, and sank into a chair. The idea that her cousin, her perfect law-abiding cousin, was deliberately going to get himself arrested seemed both incredible and astounding. She had questions, but couldn’t bring herself to interrupt the conversation. They hadn’t spoken this openly around her since she and Karen had left Keith.
Karen flipped open her cheap phone and punched a short message into it and then snapped it shut again. Why they insisted on using those outdated and boring phones, she couldn’t understand. You didn’t have to activate all the apps for a newer more technologically advanced phone, but at least you had options! Claire dreaded the day she was assigned one.
“Wow,” Karen sounded genuinely surprised. “That was fast. He’s already responded.”
“Call.”
Karen put her phone on “speaker” and dialed the number. The phone rang twice before Keith picked up. “We’re having dinner, what do you
want?”
“Mark is going to report the truck stolen. When the police find you, lead them on as much of a chase as you can, and make sure Erika resists arrest.”
Silence hung on the line before Keith said, “Helen will post bail, and you’ll be there to capture her.”
“That’s the plan.”
“Do I really have to resist arrest? How do I do that?” Erika’s stunned voice clearly indicated that she was not prepared to make that kind of sacrifice.
“Kick the officer, punch him, try to run. Just make sure they don’t think you were helpless to stop Keith.”
“I can’t have an arrest on my record, Karen. It’s hard enough to get a job in my field to begin with. A record means death.”
“Inside sixty days, that record won’t exist.”
Keith began to speak, but Erika interrupted him. “How can you be sure Helen will post bail?”
“We can’t, but if she’s in the area, she will.”
“And we’ll make it out of there alive?”
Mark and Keith, miles apart, grinned at the trademarked soothing smoothness of Karen’s voice. “Because if we couldn’t, we wouldn’t do this. You just have to trust that we’ve kept you alive this long because we know what we’re doing.”
“So, kick him, eh?”
“That was the general idea.”
A few muffled words, unintelligible over the phone, were then followed by Erika’s laughter. “Ok, I’ll do it, but you are my witnesses. Keith has promised me a real dinner with real food and real waiters and a menu that you don’t get a crick in your neck to read—preferably one without prices on it, but I won’t be that picky.”
“Oooh, a date!” Claire’s voice interrupted the conversation. “This is gonna be good.”
“This is payback for all the lousy food your cousin feeds me,” Erika countered.
Justified Means (Book One) (The Agency Files) Page 22