“Fucking brilliant,” he said, keeping his awareness on their surroundings out of habit.
The place had that underlying odor of sweat, disinfectant, and mildew that seemed to permeate even the cleanest gyms. More importantly, the large open space filled with cardio and weight equipment was deserted. And he’d determined that the cameras—blinking red lights and all—were merely for show.
Bad for security. Good for them.
They’d walked to the gym in the dark—making a quick stop at an all-night drugstore along the way—holding hands like any other couple leaving a bar after last call, except sober in every way. Afterward, he’d been more reluctant to let go of her than he wanted to admit. He could still feel her small hand wrapped in his and the tingle of awareness that had spread up to his shoulder. He resisted the urge to rub his arm.
Valerie acknowledged his compliment with a quick smile and a little duck of her head, as if unsure how to handle his praise.
“Whatcha got?” He gestured to the duffle.
She unzipped the bag, holding the sides apart so he could see in. “Five thousand in small bills, a change of clothing, and another pay-as-you-go cell phone.”
“Holy shit.” He riffled through the contents. “No fake ID?” A guy could hope.
“Sorry, I wasn’tthatprepared.” Stepping back, she said, “Want to check for weapons?”
He sighed. “Valerie…”
She gave him a cheeky grin. Even lit by the ugly fluorescent fixtures overhead, her unexpectedly carefree smile took his breath away. He itched for his camera.
“Relax,” she said, waving away his discomfort. “It’s fine. You had every right to be suspicious.”
“Yeah.” Nothing to apologize for. He’d been protecting himself.
She palmed the box of hair dye they’d picked up on the way over. The package advertised that it was specifically formulated for dark hair and would lighten it up to four shades. “Wish me luck.”
“Worst case, it comes out green.”
Her quiet laugh raised his spirits and relieved some of the tension in her face. “Perfect then.”
He turned his back as she entered the women’s locker room with the dye and the change of clothes.
When she emerged forty-five minutes later, the difference in her appearance was striking. Not extreme enough to draw attention, but enough to make her anonymous. Especially with her pretty brown eyes lined in black. She’d also changed into a plain gray T-shirt, blue jeans, and running shoes.
He was going to miss her pink toes.
“What do you think?” she asked, touching her dark blond hair tentatively with her fingertips.
Gorgeous. Her natural color was better, but still… “Perfect. I’m not even sure I’d recognize you.”
Her shoulders relaxed.
Scott turned back to the empty room. “Ready?”
It took them another hour to trek to the neighborhood around the corner from Good Old Days. The area near the bar was quiet and dark with yellow crime scene tape flapping in the breeze under the streetlights.
The techs and detectives appeared long gone, but just in case, they were proceeding with caution. Scott’s van sat on the street with a dozen other cars, parked in front of a four-story apartment building that needed new stucco.
He and Valerie approached from the alley, walked in the back door of the building, through the small lobby, and exited onto the dark street as if they were residents. With his floppy, sun-bleached hair, and two weeks’ growth on his face, he could be any surfer on the coast.
Inside the van, he tossed her bigger bag behind the seats and buckled in. “Ready?” he asked, keeping his grip light on the steering wheel. Every time he glanced at her he was jolted by her new look.
“As I can be.” She put on her seatbelt, and then dug through her bag until she found a stretchy hairband to tie her hair back into a low ponytail. “There’s only so much I can accomplish online. Aggressor is locked down tight. Sooner or later, we need to be in Duncan’s backyard to take him down.”
Scott nodded and started the engine, opening a can of Mountain Dew—another drugstore purchase—for the road.
“How about we aim for Phoenix?” He pulled onto the street, heading for 101 South. “We can follow I-10 all the way to Mississippi.”
