Long enough, she thought with a surge of hope. She hurried out before the clerk could start up a conversation.
Was he watching her closely as she left? She didn’t dare check. Probably paranoia born of constant danger. There were only two convenience stores in town. Had her brother been a customer here when he came?
To meet with the handlers who set him up in the drug trade?
Outside, Gideon leaned against the Jeep. He, too, wore his hat down low, pretending nonchalance but clearly tracking her every move.
“They have a free table,” she said, handing him the coffee.
He held it under his nose and inhaled. “There are good people in the world, even in this town.”
“I guess the clerk hasn’t gotten the memo we’re wanted individuals.”
“Hopefully, but he could be sending a message right now if he’s got a ham radio or sat phone.”
His response sent a deeper chill into her body as she followed him to the pay phone. The receiver looked clunky in his grasp, but the ancient technology worked impeccably well. In a moment, he’d reached an operator who put him through to the officer who’d been driving the jail van when they ended up in the river. Gideon held the phone so she could hear.
“Where are you?” Rodriquez demanded.
“On the road.” He told the officer as best he could about the situation and the locations of the redhead at the Jeep and Kevin in case the guy was a complete dufus and still hadn’t gotten loose.
“Is Mackenzie Bardine with you?”
Mackenzie sipped the hot coffee. What would Gideon say? She couldn’t be sure as she stared into his somber eyes.
He cleared his throat and moved the mouthpiece closer. “Can’t tell you anything more right now.”
“She needs to turn herself in,” the cop said. “We can work through all this but not if she’s running. Tell me where you are and I’ll try to get someone to you. I can’t leave my post, we’ve got to help with evacuations, but—”
“That’s all I can share for now,” Gideon said.
Mackenzie felt a lump in her throat. This wasn’t Gideon. He didn’t hold back or cover for anyone since he’d lied for her brother and paid a terrible price. Yet here he was, putting himself and his career at risk to help her.
“Listen to me,” Rodriquez said. “You proved yourself back there at the van. I’ll give her as much slack as I can, but you have to come in before you both die.”
The coffee burned her lip. If she was in the cop’s shoes, she’d say the same thing. Five more seconds ticked past as the line of cars continued to move by them.
“Do you know the identity of the man who’s trying to kill us?” Gideon said.
The cop paused. “I have an idea.”
She squeezed the cup, listening. He knew.A name ... that’s all I need.
“Guy’s trying to kill us,” Gideon said. “We have a right to know who he is.”
The cop lowered his voice. “I can’t talk right now. Do you read me?”
She and Gideon locked eyes. The officer’s hesitation was clear. Bullseye might have people in the police department on his payroll too.
It suddenly seemed as if every passenger in every car and all the people stopped at the gas pumps turned to stare at them.
Their position had just become even more isolated.
“Thanks for your help, officer,” Gideon said. “I’ll be in touch when I can.”
“Don’t—” she heard the cop say as Gideon disconnected.
“You won’t listen, but he’s right, you know,” Gideon said.
