“I want to sit on the chair outside and draw. But I won’t go anywhere else.”
He nods his head. “Okay.”
That was easier than I thought. Hudson heads back to the table, but he looks up as he sits down and says, “I have sensors around the perimeter. I’ll know if you go farther than a few feet.”
I chuckle. Of course, he has sensors. Hudson is not the hard-ass I thought he was. Not only is he thoughtful, compassionate, a good cook, and the owner of the best ass I’ve ever seen, but he also knows how to keep me safe. He’s the steady, reliable influence that’s been missing from my life. And if we stay here much longer, I’m in danger of falling for Captain America.
The banging of the cabin door startles me, and I spin around to find Hudson shutting it behind him.
I don’t know how long I’ve been out here, but my mind is calm, and my body is no longer flushed with heat.
On my lap is the sketchpad, the page covered with a colorful scene of the looming pines surrounding us. In the center front is the cabin, smaller in scale than in reality, and a smudge of a figure stands out front. The forest closes in around the person and the cabin. The trees, vibrant green on the outside, shift to dark, looming shapes that lean in and block out the sky.
The black crayon is worn to halfway down, and I set it down and stretch out the cramp in my fingers, noticing they’re white with cold.
“I found something,” Hudson says. “I thought you’d want to know.”
Hope lifts me out of my seat, and my sketchbook falls to the ground. “Did you find him?”
“Come and take a look.”
I pick up the sketchpad and follow him inside to the table where he has two laptops set up and his burner phone plugged in to charge.
He takes a seat, and I pull the other chair up next to him.
“You told me you believed he took a Greyhound from the Charlotte bus station on Monday the 4th, sometime between zero eleven hundred hours and midnight.”
He taps a few keys, and I press my hands together, impatient for the news.
“There were fifty-nine buses passing through the station during that time, and we narrowed the search to domestic buses going out of state.”
“That sounds right.”
“Which narrows it down to thirteen. Marcus’s teams ran facial recognition software at the most probable locations, and we’ve got a match.”
How Marcus and his team have access to such things is beyond me, but it’s best not to ask those questions. I’m just glad they do.
Hudson hits the keyboard, and a grainy photo appears. It’s taken from up high and is zoomed in on a face I’d recognize anywhere. I note my brother’s high cheekbones and spiky hair.
“That’s him.”
I clap my hands together, and flecks of black crayon fly off them and onto the laptop. Hudson scowls at the flakes, and I quickly turn the keyboard upside down and shake them off.
“You know where he is?” The flakes land on the table, and if it were my own place, I’d probably leave it at that. But cleanliness seems to be a big deal to Hudson, so I grab a cloth from the kitchen and wipe them up.
“We know he disembarked at Staunton, Virginia.”
“Virginia?” That can’t be right. “It’s only the next state over. He must have transferred from there.”
“There’s no footage of him getting back on the bus. We believe this was his final stop.”
Why didn’t he go farther? When we planned for him to get away, we talked about the other side of the country, not one state over. It’s a little too close for my liking. But on the other hand, it’s not too far to get to him.
I dump the cloth in the sink and grab my daypack, which is propped up against the sofa, all zipped up with my sweater neatly folded on top of it. I don’t remember leaving my things neat like that, so it must be Hudson being thoughtful again. But I don’t have time to dwell on that.
“Let’s go.”
Hudson stands up slowly. “Not so fast. He could be anywhere in Staunton. We need more intel before we go on a wild goose chase.”
