“I promise.” Flicka wound her arms around his hard waist. “I promise.”
“My God,” he said.“My God.They almost got you.They almost got you.Do you know who they were?”
She shook her head, her nose rubbing against the crisp cotton of his shirt, and sobbed.
“It’s okay,” he sighed. “It’s okay.” His big hand stroked her hair.
“I dropped my purse in the car.”
“That’s okay. You’re safe, so it’s okay. What was in it?”
“Just my cell phone and some money.”
“Any ID? Keys?”
“No. I never carry those.”
“Good.” He backed off, but he kept one hand on her shoulder while he looked around, scanning the area because of operational security. “I liked how you kicked that guy.”
“Yeah, well.” Flicka wiped the tears and snot off her face. Dieter’s white shirt had a wet spot with some beige and pink makeup stains on his shoulder. “You taught me how to fight.”
“You were doing a pretty good job of it.”
“How did you find me so fast?”
“When you got out of the car, your driver called in your last position. I tracked your phone with mine and ran across Kensington Gardens park.”
“Oh, that stupid Phind-A-Phone app.”
“We have a special version of it,” Dieter said.
“What do I do about my phone now?”
“After the police arrest those guys, we’ll deactivate and wipe it. I’ll have a new phone set up for you this afternoon. But Flicka,” he said, “I’m serious. Never,everagain.”
