“Can you shake them?”
“I haven’t had much practice at this sort of thing, but I’m going to give it a shot. Just sit tight.” Sam’s driving style changes dramatically. He weaves between cars, takes corners way too fast, thunders through amber, and occasionally red, traffic lights. The SUV sticks to us like glue. “I’m going to see if I can convince them we’re getting on the freeway.”
I’m sick with fear and the motion of the car. Austin has begun fretting. “Okay,” I say in a small voice, and pray that it works.
Chapter 17
Way to New Life
Samuel Foster
Are these bastards never going to drop it? I think to myself as I gun the engine. The sedan lacks the power I’m accustomed to and I want to shout in frustration as the sluggish hunk of metal hurtles along the road. “How the fuck does he drive this piece of shit?” I mutter and feel Arielle’s eyes on me.
“Language,” she says softly, with a meaningful glance behind us, and I bite my tongue.Shit, this is going to be an adjustment.
The car behind us gets caught up behind a truck, and I heave a breath as I realize I’ve made two more turns without spotting them again. “I think we lost them,” I say and feel her squeeze my knee. Her hand is warm.
“Oh, thank God,” she says, laughing in a way that sounds like she’s been holding her breath. “Just a few more minutes. What time is our flight?”
“We’ll be there in plenty of time,” I say enigmatically. My eyes are on the rearview mirror and I clench my jaw as see a dark shape emerge behind us again.Fuck.
“Hand me my phone, please,” I ask Arielle, eyes flicking from the mirror to the road ahead.
“While you’re driving?” she asks, eyes wide. I realize yet again how different we are, and shake my head.
“Of course, you’re right. Could you dial Tim for me?” The shape behind us is closer now. It’s definitely them.Fuck.Fuck. Fuck.“Tell him I said, ‘it’s on’.”
“What?” Arielle frowns in confusion.
“He’ll know what I mean,” I say grimly, swinging the wheel of the sedan. Horns blare as I pull across the oncoming lane and Arielle gasps. I’ve spun the car in the opposite direction and I’m driving fast…away from the airport.
“Sam, what—?” she begins.
I shoot her a tight smile. “It’s all right. Everything’s under control. We’re going to be fine.” I’m heading away from our tail, but I doubt I’ve bought us much time. Just enough though, I hope. A commotion behind us convinces me that Buford’s men have pulled a similar stunt. My only advantage is that I know where we’re headed. If I can lose them for another minute or two, we’ll be clear. I make a couple more turns and then see a sign up ahead, swinging the car into the gas station I’ve been looking for.
I switch off the ignition, unbuckle my seatbelt, then turn to Arielle. “I need you to trust me, okay? Everything’s going to be all right.” She’s looking at me strangely, her expression turning into something that has my gut twisting. I pull her close, rest my forehead against hers, and look deep into her eyes. “I love you, Arielle,” I whisper. “Never forget that.”
Before she can answer, I’m out of the car and jogging into the convenience store behind the pumps. Tim is on the other side of the door, wearing identical sweats and t-shirt. “All good?” he says, and I nod, not trusting my voice for a second. He hands me a pale gray hoodie, snags the cap off of my head and tugs it down over his forehead. I pass him the sunglasses and he meets my eye before putting them on.
“Take care of them,” I say, and he nods, then jogs back to where I parked Arielle and Austin in the sedan.
The man getting back into the car looks identical to the one who just got out.
∞∞∞
When I pull up in a cab outside McCarran International, I emerge in the hoodie and a pair of green plastic-framed sunglasses. They wouldn’t have been my first choice, but they were all I could find at the store. I pay the fare and make my way to the departures area, where I stay hidden among the thronging passengers as I try to catch a glimpse of Arielle.
It doesn’t take long before I spot them. The hulking forms of Buford’s goons are flanking her, Tim, and Austin, and even from where I’m standing, I can see the anxiety and confusion on her face. It tears at my heart. But there’s nothing else for it.
I sidle closer, getting within earshot, my hoodie concealing most of my face as I reach for a tourist guide from a nearby rack. I slouch against a pillar near them, blending into the bustle. Being invisible is easy for me. I’ve made a career out of disappearing acts.
I see Buford himself among the group around Arielle, and her fear is so tangible I can practically feel it from where I’m standing. If it wasn’t for Tim’s imposing presence, I’d be hard-pressed not to step in. The powerfully built detective is standing protectively by her, a hand on Austin’s shoulder.
“California, you say?” I hear Buford’s bullfrog tones demanding. “What’s in fucking California?”
“Arielle’s going to visit family,” Tim is saying. “Although it’s not any of your business.”
“Leave us alone!” I hear Arielle cry out. I’m guessing that after Tim and I switched out, Buford’s men caught up with the car and followed them to the airport. Tim wouldn’t have tried to lose them at that point. It was something we’d anticipated. Buford might believe I’m dead, but if there’s the slightest suspicion otherwise, he’s going to play every angle. From the looks of it, the group has had them surrounded since their arrival. But unless Tim and Arielle give them any reason to think otherwise, they’ll have no good cause to stop her from leaving.
