She nodded and patted his face. “I gave you my promise that I wouldn’t hurt anybody, and I haven’t. The gun isn’t even loaded, sweetheart. For now, I saw an older Chevy about a block over—I’ll go get it. You pack up and be ready to go when I honk.” She hummed happily and moved through the doorway again, shutting the metal door gently.
He turned to get ready. They had to split town fast. Again. His phone buzzed a second time, and he turned, yanking it from his pack. Then he blinked. It was a video call. His stupid dad didn’t know how to do that. Louise had turned off the GPS, but he knew they should leave the phone here anyway. He swiped the screen, already talking. “Just leave us alone,” he muttered as thescreen focused.
A face came up. One that looked a hell of a lot like his. The guy was old, though. At least thirty.“Hi,” he said.
Jackson dropped to sit on the bed.“Who are you?”
“Hunter Holt. Your half-brother,” the guy said. His blue eyes were the exact same shade as their dad’s. “Didn’t know you existed, or I would’ve been in contact sooner.”
Huh. A brother. Jackson’s chest heated, and his ears burned. “They’re pulling out all the stops now?” Man, even the FBI had to be after them now. They were like Bonnie and Clyde—or some other famous couple from history. “What rock did they roll your drunk ass out from under?” The asshole was probably a drunken, wife-beating jackass, justlike their dad.
“U.S. Marines. Now I’m a river guide, mainly on the Cumberland River,” Hunter said. “And I rarely drink. If I do, it’s a beer, and that’s it.” He rubbed his short beard. “I do have a problem with mint chocolate chip ice cream, however. It’s a vice.”
Jackson lifted his chin. Marine? He had a brother who’d been a marine? His mind fuzzed. “What do youwant, Hunter?”
“To help you,” Hunter said bluntly. “I’m at the convenience store your teacher hit in Iowa, and there’s a lot of blood on the floor. Smells like rust and dirt. Kinda metallic. You ever smell a bucket of blood?”
“Stop lying to me.” Jackson’s stomach lurched. “For the record, I’ve tastedplenty of it.”
Hunter’s eyes darkened. “I bet you have. I was raised by the asshole, too. Until I went to Miss Angelina’s.”
Jackson lifted a shoulder. He’d only been at Angelina’s for a day, but she seemed pretty nice. Although she probably would’ve wanted him gone in a week like most places had in his life. “She didn’t tell me I had a brother.” Not that he’d given her much of a chance. He’d left the first night toget to Louise.
Hunter nodded. “I’m sure she wanted to make sure I had my head on straight first. Had some problems after leaving the service. I’ve found fishing and guiding on the river helps. I’d love for you to join me. Maybe getyourhead on straight. You haven’t done anything yet that wouldprevent that.”
Jackson snorted, something perking up inside of him that needed to be squished. His path was set. Louise honked outside. “Thanks, but we ain’t the Brady Bunch.” He’d seen the old show late one night. People didn’t really live like that. “See ya, Hunter.” He clicked off and threw the phone against the wall so it shattered.
Then he grabbed his stuff, the money, and ran outside to meet the only person who wouldever love him.
Chapter Seven
Faye stretched out of the SUV with her backpack over one arm outside a worn-down roadside motel. They had just finished surveying the second crime scene in Iowa—this one with no injuries or death. Just a lot of ruined food and broken jars. Rain splattered down, and she lifted her face to feel the coolness. Her limbs ached and her eyes were gritty. Darkness had descended a couple of hours ago.
Louise and Jackson were long gone from this town, and Raider’s friends at the FBI were trying to track them via traffic and store cameras, but the duo had become pretty good at taking back roads.
Hunter kept dialing Jackson’s phone, walking out of the dingy motel office and across the muddy parking lot toward them. He’d been trying to call Jackson all day after their one phone call. Without success. Faye chewed on her lip as Hunter’s shoulders went down.
“Damn it.” He turned and threw his phone across the parking lot. Raider, sitting on the hood of the SUV, snagged it out of the air before it couldhit a gas tank.
“Impressive,” Wolfe mused, looking at Raider.
Faye barely kept from smiling. Hunter was way too frugal to destroy his phone in a temper. He’d known Raider would catch it. No reason to tell Wolfe that, however. The wind blew across the nearly vacant lot, smashing rain against her sweater.
Raider read the face of his phone. “No sign of them yet. Force was delayed in DC but will meet up with us as soon as possible. Let’s sleep and be on the road early tomorrow. Hopefully we’ll know where to go.” Lines fanned out from his dark eyes, and his voice had gone southern rough. He jumped off the hood.
Hunter held up two old-fashioned keys with plastic yellow holders. “Two rooms only.”
Faye’s heart kicked up a beat—a hundred beats, actually. Was Hunter making a move? After all this time? There was only one other vehicle in the lot—a rusting and dented Ford pickup from the early eighties. “They only have two rooms available?” The place had at leastfifteen rooms.
He nodded, his eyes weary. “Yes. Apparently there was a busted pipe, a mold issue, and a problem with asbestos.” He didn’t sound like he really cared. “The guy has two rooms available. Take themor leave them.”
Oh. So no move.Her body ached.
Wolfe partially turned. “Kat usually likes to sleep with Raider. Other than that, you and me, Faye? I’ll take Kat’s place with you?”
Man, he was cute—in a hot serial killer type of way. She pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. At least somebody wanted tosleep with her.
“No,” Hunter said, tossing him one of the keys. “She’s with me.”
