I turned my attention to outside the Jeep’s windows. The sun had risen, but the streets were quiet. The parking lot we stopped in only had one other parked car, leaving it mostly empty. I waited for Imogen to finish running her fingers through her hair as I settled into the driver’s side of the vehicle.
In that time, only a single car drove past us on the road next to the lot.
“Buckle up,” I said when Imogen sat in the passenger seat and got comfortable but didn’t move for her seatbelt.
“Right,” she said, as if she’d been lost in thought and had forgotten about it.
I put the key back in the ignition and turned. The engine revved and then made a slow, dying sound before petering out and stalling. I tried again to the same effect. By the third, nothing happened at all except clicking noises coming from the ignition.
“Shit. Either we’re too low on gas or whatever reason they had the Jeep in the lot they hadn’t gotten around to fixing it yet.”
Getting our car working now became step one of my new plan. I couldn’t fail now.
“What are we going to do?” she asked, keeping her voice steady, but it held notes of panic.
I couldn’t let her fall apart. I glanced at Imogen for a moment and I swore I saw our future. We weren’t sitting together in a stolen vehicle in an unknown town in the middle of Florida but getting ready to go on a family trip packed full of summer fun. She looked at me from the passenger seat and smiled, knowing we were on another adventure.
Or the lack of food made me slightly delusional.
Regardless if I wanted there to be a future for either of us, I had to do a better job of taking care of her. So far, I’d failed spectacularly.
It was time to skip step one and move right on to step two. “Let’s find the police station and get ourselves food.” I had no way of paying for food, and it wasn’t like I’d let Imogen eat out of a dumpster, but I had faith I’d form a plan as we walked.
We left the car behind, with the key sitting on the driver’s seat, and trudged through the little parking lot toward the small pub we’d passed the previous night. At the end of the short street, which connected to the main four-way, signs pointed in various directions as if we were searching for the way to the Emerald City.
“I don’t see a sign for the police station,” Imogen said, scanning the signs again to be sure, but she was correct.
“Let’s go toward the diner,” I said, pointing at the bottom arrow which pointed to our right and said food. We’d find food and help in the little pub.
Together we turned to the right and headed in the direction the sign pointed. I tried not to think about how we probably resembled bums. We were dirty and tired even after our night of sleep. Good thing the streets were deserted at such an early morning because they might have run us out of town.
“Can I ask a favor?” I asked when the diner came into sight a block away.
Her steps didn’t even falter. We were getting into a pleasant rhythm. I supposed when life thrust you into a life-or-death situation and you somehow escaped, it created a bond.
“What?” she asked, keeping her gaze straight ahead.
I wasn’t ready to admit it to Imogen, or myself, but some of my fear of going to the police wasn’t all about the reach the Grandmaster had, but what it meant might happen to her. She’d go back home and then what? Not only would she be out of my life, but I wouldn’t be there to keep her safe anymore, in case she needed it. I wouldn’t be the man who saved her. She’d have the Florida police to thank for returning her home.
“After we finish with the police, will you come back with me to Pelican Bay until we get the whole situation figured out and they capture the people who took us?”
“Who are these people? How worried should I be, Cyrus?”
She didn’t say yes, but she didn’t say no either, so I saw it as a good thing. The hard part was I didn’t know how to answer her question. From Imogen’s story of her kidnapping, it didn’t sound like they had their sights set on any one person in particular. They wanted an occupation, not a particular body.
But I didn’t want to take any chances with her life. She might still be in danger.
She knew too much about the men and saw their faces. We had no guarantee they wouldn’t search her out later and try to shut her up once she was home. Especially if we talked to the police.
“It’s a long story, and frankly, I only learned the parts that pertain to me. How much do you know about the Chicago mob?”
She looked at me as if I’d gone absolutely crazy. It was probably fair, considering she was a nurse from North Carolina. “You already asked this, and I told you. Al Capone. And they shot people on Valentine’s Day.”
“Yeah, they don’t do that as much anymore. It’s a lot of behind-the-scenes things. They’re not even as family oriented as they used to be as more players have come into the game.”
“But why is someone from the Chicago mob kidnapping nurses from North Carolina?”
“That’s where it gets fishy,” I said, our steps slowing because we’d reach the diner too quickly for the length of the story. “The Grandmaster is much more about cybercrime and white-collar stuff behind the scenes. They are not shooting people at their favorite restaurants on Valentine’s Day, yet it appears one of his top players became wrapped up in a sex trafficking ring and now he’s breaking all the rules.”
