by V. R. Marks
Ross hated lying to her, even by omission, but he didn't see the value in full disclosure yet. She'd despise him when this was over, no matter how it resolved. The thought had his teeth grinding in frustration.
If he had to analyze it, he'd say most of his life had been an opportunity to practice anger and attitude management. He'd learned early on that temper, turned outward or kept inside, was equally destructive, so he'd found safe outlets. Joining the military had been a relief on many levels, with the physical challenge and the distraction of doing important work. No it hadn't been easy, but he'd come to think of his years in Special Forces as graduate-level work in problem solving and attitude control.
He was particularly irritated – not yet angry – that his client had apparently hired plenty of other talent to track down Allie and the data she'd stolen.
Sure it was rude and showed a distinct lack of respect. Worse it revealed a deep desperation. In his experience desperate people only muddied the waters of any conflict.
He was definitely angry that they'd managed to clone his cell phone. He had others of course, but it was the principle of the matter. Rarely did a client get the jump on him and dupe him this way.
They cruised into town, rolling by the sheriff's office. He didn't see any sign of the rental car that had stopped to search for the pieces of his cell phone, but they couldn't be too far behind.
"We aren't going in?"
He didn't answer right away, weighing the options. "In a minute." That's all it would take to do a circuit of town, to see if Eva had followed his orders or not. His assistant would give him hell if she turned out to be right about hanging around town.
The woman was worth the grief just for the technical savvy she brought to his operation, but that didn't mean he wanted to hear about it for the rest of his life.
They arrived at the sheriff's office from the opposite direction this time and still saw no sign of the other car. Ross parked around back, next to the sheriff department's unmarked car. As cover went, it sucked, but it might buy them a couple of extra seconds.
He cut the engine, released his seat belt and reached for Allie's hand. "Can I use your phone?"
"If you can get a signal." She handed it over. "It's a cheap, prepaid thing."
"Good." Smart girl. He sent a text to Eva and handed the phone back. "Did you steal proprietary data or just evidence of the money scam?"
Her mouth thinned to a mutinous line. "You can't hand it over. Not even to the sheriff."
"I won't."
"But don't you have to? As an officer of the court or something?"
She had him there. Sort of. "Trust me. I think we can find a bit of common ground before we lock you up and return the banking information."
Her lower lip quivered and she caught it between her teeth. He stomped on the inappropriate urge to soothe that little bite with his own mouth.
"Let me protect you, Allie."
"It's not your team following us, trying to force my hand?"
"No." He gritted his teeth, breathed in and out again slowly. He knew she was stressed out and didn't mean to be insulting. The trepidation was clear enough in every little nuance of her body language.
"What's your plan?"
He smiled. "Simple. We go inside and cooperate. You tell Cochran whatever you want or whatever you don't want, but I figure no one will take a shot at you in the sheriff's office."
She nodded.
"While we're in there, I'm going to have my assistant change cars. If you've managed to hide your stolen data in this vehicle you're about to lose access."
She nodded.
"Ready then?"
Again, the quick dip of her chin. He caught sight of the rental car rolling down Main Street. "Let's go."
He didn't worry about his own gear, the car Rick left for them would have the same emergency kit tucked into the trunk. Putting himself between Allie and the street, he gave her shelter as she headed into the office.
It was a happy reunion – for her – when they were inside. He got the hairy eyeball from the receptionist who used to drive the school bus way back when. He met that gimlet gaze and kept his own thoughts off his face.
Cochran led them to his office and closed the door. Ross shot him a look and the man dropped the blinds on the window that overlooked Main Street.
When the sheriff sat down, Allie dropped into a chair in front of the desk, but Ross stayed on his feet behind her. The sheriff acknowledged Ross's unspoken statement of protection with a noisy sigh.
"Trouble's got a bead on the two of you." The man looked at Allie like a doting father trying not to be disappointed. "What do you have to say for yourself?"
"I certainly didn't mean to bring trouble back here. Have you identified the man from last night?"
Ross admired her cool voice and her perfect posture as she held her ground.
"Not yet." Sheriff Cochran leaned back in his chair and rubbed his jaw. "The woman hasn't said much beyond insisting this is a misunderstanding. She was simply trying to facilitate a meeting with you and her client."
Ross bristled, thinking of his original meeting with what was likely the same client. Roberts hadn't looked insane then, or he wouldn't have taken the case. Whatever was going on, the man was going above and beyond in his efforts to get Allie and the data back. He wondered what the shooter and the fake deputy had been told, though he could fill in the blanks based on their actions.
He wanted Allie out of danger and more, after what she'd said, he wanted a look at whatever she'd managed to steal. If she didn't trust him soon, he'd have to force the issue. Not ideal, but clearly necessary in light of the past twenty four hours.
"So this is a courtesy call," Cochran was saying to Allie. "You aren't really here to tell me anything new."
She cleared her throat, but her voice was strong. "You told me to stay in the area. Is that still absolutely necessary?"
"Yes. You're a person of interest in the shooting last night." He raised a hand to silence Ross' protest. "I took your statement myself, didn't I? I believe what you both said about events there. But there's been a BOLO issued for you, Allie Williams. Since we know you're here, we had to respond accordingly. You're wanted for questioning in Virginia. They're sending a team to pick you up."
Ross' stomach lurched. Crap. They'd played right into somebody's hands by coming here. He bit back the foul words, doing his best to remember his place here. Babysitter, Allie had called him. He tried to look as neutral and unthreatening as the term implied.
"But you released me into his custody," Allie protested, jerking a thumb at Ross. "Why isn't that good enough anymore? I can prove I didn't take the money. I just need time."
Ross tried not to read too much into her newfound eagerness to stay with him while he wrestled with the various scenarios. In lock up, downstairs, she'd be safe, and he might convince Cochran to let him look through that duffel and stylish backpack. He already knew he wasn't going to get the rest of his money on this job, might as well help an old friend instead. Money or no, the truth was he'd do whatever was necessary to protect Allie.
"Young lady, I want to help you. But it's a capital offense –"
That phrase caught Ross' attention. "What?"
The sheriff ignored him, intent on Allie. "Honey, I don't want to believe you could do something of this degree, but my hands are tied." Deputy Morris entered the office, cuffs at the ready. Ross remembered him from the high school basketball team their senior year.
"Hang on." Ross angled himself between the deputy and Allie. "What exactly do they want to question her about?"
"The murder of Bradley Roberts."
Allie's perfect posture failed her and if Cochran's worried expression was any indication, she looked ready to faint.
The deputy took another step, stopping at Ross's hard look. He shifted that same hard expression to the sheriff. "For old times sake can you give us a minute here?"
"It's not my case or my minute to give. I ha
ve a responsibility to hold her until the authorities who issued the 'be on the look out' arrive to question her. You know that."
This was spiraling out of control way too fast. He did a mental inventory of who had seen them where today. "You've known Allie all her life. Let her give you a statement or call a lawyer at least." He could see Cochran waffling. "It's your department, your jurisdiction." Ross resisted the urge to push more. It was a fine line they were walking. As soon as he got her out of here, and he would get her out of here, he'd have Eva research the timing and origination of the alert and send Rick to follow up in person.
Finally Cochran waved the hesitant deputy out of the office, waiting until the door was closed again. "Can you explain any of this, Allie?"
"He's dead? You're sure?" Her voice was nearly inaudible.
"He's on a coroner's table as we speak. They say there's an eye witness who puts you near his house a few hours before his body was found."
"An eye witness who saw me?"
The sheriff nodded.
"But, I couldn't do anything like that," she mumbled, obviously in shock. "I haven't been near Bradley's house in months. How could they have seen me?"
"What day?" Ross interrupted.
Allie jumped at the question and Cochran looked up at him as if he'd sprouted two heads. Ross repeated the question, but the sheriff still didn't answer. Apparently he'd worn out his welcome in Haleswood yet again.
His team had been watching Allie for almost a full week already, following her from Virginia all the way back to Haleswood. They might have the real murderer in any one of a dozen surveillance photos. If nothing else, he could provide a solid alibi to the sheriff or anyone else who asked. He didn't want to go there, knowing how it would upset her, but he would. She'd hate him for lying to her, but she'd be safe.
Sheriff Cochran asked a few questions and Ross watched intently for signs that the sheriff doubted her story. So far, he was buying Allie's version the whole way. Thank God.
He listened to Allie's explanation, ticking off the events in his own mind. Yes, she'd still been in Virginia, even on that side of Alexandria, near Roberts' home address that day. Yes, she'd left town, headed for Haleswood, that evening.
Rick had been on her during those hours and Ross remembered the log showed a stop at Wal-Mart. Probably for that disposable phone she was using.
"Can anyone verify your whereabouts?"
Allie twisted her fingers around the black back pack. "No."
Ross kept his mouth shut.
"Are you sure there's no one who can vouch for you?"
"Well. Umm, I – I stayed with a friend that night. And made the rest of the drive to Aunt Ruth's house the next morning."
Her voice cracked, catching Ross' attention. For as long as he could remember she'd always struggled to keep her voice even when she tried to lie. The night in question, his team had pictures of her - alone - checking in to a rundown motel off Interstate 95.
"Write down the friend's name and phone number so Sheriff Cochran can confirm it," Ross said by way of a distraction. He'd ask her about the lie as soon as he got her out of here. By now the jerks following them knew they'd been conned by the cell phone trick and their short advantage was ticking away.
The extra key to the car Rick was dropping off was burning a hole in Ross' pocket. Every instinct he had was screaming they were out of time, they needed to move. Now.
"You've known her since she was a kid, Sheriff," Ross interjected. "Let her go."
"It's not that simple."
"No. It's worse than that." He pitched his voice a bit shy of bored, despite the knot in his gut. "She's been shot at, attacked and tailed. She needs protection, not more interrogation. And she sure doesn't need to get in a car for the next eight hours without an attorney present."
Cochran leaned back again. "I can put her in the drunk tank by herself. She'll be safe there."
"And a sitting duck when you hand her over to whatever wolf in deputy uniform shows up to haul her away."
Cochran had the grace to look embarrassed.
"She's safer with me and we both know it."
"I don't know it," Allie said, picking the worst possible moment to grow an opinion. "Sheriff Cochran, how is Ross related to your department?"
"He's not precisely related to the department in any official capacity. But I trust him. He and his crew do work for the state from time to time."
Ross managed not to fall over from the shock of being praised. He made a mental note to thank Cochran for the unexpected support. The man must be nearly as worried for Allie as Ross.
"I'd rather take care of myself," Allie insisted. "If I let you know where I'm staying will that be enough?"
"No." Cochran said it with enough force Allie didn't protest. "I'm sorry, honey. Go with Ross or stay with me. In jail."
Ross thought defeat had never looked so lovely as Allie straightened her shoulders, gained her feet and came to stand by his side. "We'll be in touch," he said.
"You might want to find an attorney while you're at it, Allie." Cochran wagged his finger at them both. "And I haven't seen you. If you say otherwise, I'll deny it all the way to my grave. No one in my office will mention this visit. I've got your cell number, so go on and get out of here."
* * *
Allie managed to say thank you before Ross guided her out of the office, his big palm hot on the small of her back. His unrelenting proximity was a comfort. She'd been cold since the moment the sheriff told her someone had accused her of murder.
"Eyewitness," she mumbled as they crossed the reception area. Everything seemed bigger and smaller all at once. The sound of her running shoes squeaking on the waxed floor was too loud. The people watching them felt too close. Logic dictated nothing had changed from minutes ago, and yet some small part of her knew nothing would ever be the same again.
Without Ross, she might have frozen in that odd, distorted place, helpless to break the hopelessness blanketing her. But he propelled her forward into the bright afternoon sunshine where the gusty November wind cleared away the clouds in her mind.
"This way." Either his voice was quiet or her ears were muffled by the overwhelming shock. He steered her toward a car she didn't recognize, parked at the curb.
"My duffel!" She turned back, toward the building but he caught her elbow.
"I have it." He hefted it to show her. "Stay with me, sweetheart."
It had been many years since men called her pet names and considered it polite. In her office – her former office – it would be cause for a harassment suit. Not here. Not at home. It was an unexpected comfort.
"Where are we going?" She was tucked into the front seat of a midsized SUV. Ross reached across to help her with her seatbelt and she batted his hands away. "I can do it."
"That's my girl. You're welcome to rejoin the world anytime."
"I'm a woman."
"I've noticed."
"I'm not yours."
"Right."
Fact or not, his unruffled responses made her feel petty and small. He'd been the first one to walk away, but only because his military career had needed him to report before she moved into her college dorm. Eventually, she tired of writing letters that she couldn't send without an address, accepting that perseverance didn't always pay off. She forced herself to think of something else, something more important to the moment.
"Until all this happened I was well respected in my field."
"You'll get it back."
"No. No, I think that part of my life is over and gone forever."
There was silence for a time and she closed her eyes, not wanting to know what new danger he might be watching for. "Why don't you go back to whatever it is you do?"
"Because you need help. Bottom line, help is what I do."
He was right. As much as it pained her to admit it, she did need help and she didn't have anyone else. She opened her eyes, but she didn't see the scenery beyond the window. Her mind was flashing through
those last few days at work before the headlong rush of panic drove her out of town. "I wanted to hide out at Aunt Ruth's place until I figured this out. I thought being home would be safe. Now I can't hide anywhere."
"Sheriff Cochran won't let anything happen to you."
"I didn't kill my boss."
"I know."
He said it with the unwavering conviction usually reserved for best friends during a crisis. She turned that over in her mind. Sheriff Cochran would call her friend Nicole and learn she'd spent the night there, even though she hadn't. It wasn't an alibi Allie expected to hold up in court, but it bought her a little breathing room. Maybe.
"I need to figure this out."
Ross cleared his throat. "If you'd trust me, I can help you figure this out."
"Not like I have anything more to lose. Unless you walk away."
"Beg your pardon?"
Oh, that wasn't what she meant and she said so, hearing herself run off at the mouth. "You can walk away from this. From me. I mean, don't feel obligated or anything. Turning myself in won't be all bad, aside from the jail thing, because I didn't actually kill him."
"So you've never heard of the falsely imprisoned?"
"Of course. But there can't be any real evidence tying me to that crime."
"Police departments don't issue alerts without reason, Allie."
She supposed he was right.
"I have resources," he said. "You might as well make the most of them."
"Last night on the treadmill, I decided on Idaho."
"What?"
"My new plan was to get lost in Idaho."
"And what? Farm potatoes?"
He made her smile. He'd always been able to do that. She found it a little disconcerting that even in the midst of the worst days of her life he could make her smile. "Farming potatoes sounds like heaven about now."
When he choked on a laugh, something deep inside her clicked into place. As if her system had been a half beat out of rhythm all this time and being with Ross lined everything up the way it should be.
She couldn't call it frightening, not after the real, physical fear dogging her for so long. But she wasn't sure she could call it comforting either. She pushed on with the analogy. "Never heard of a potato resulting in death or destruction."