“He hasn’t bailed yet. I don’t think he wants to give up his home and family and status. Otherwise, why bother to frame you?” Though a smart man would have an exit strategy, just in case.
She glanced back at Scott, her expression skeptical.
“If it happens, we’ll deal with it,” he said.Somehow. “Let’s get the hell out of here first.”
“Agreed.” Sighing, she adjusted the driver’s seat so she could reach the pedals and started the van.
Three hours later in San Diego, Valerie sat in a cozy club chair in the second-floor café of a popular bookstore chain that offered free WiFi. There were enough people milling around and working on their computers that no one looked at her and Scott twice, even though their story was all over the news.
“The cops figured out it was us, but the surveillance footage is grainy at best, black and white.” She modulated her voice to carry just above the light jazz playing overhead as she used her secure browser to check for updates.
“Let’s see.” He pulled his chair closer, cutting the space between them to unbearable.
After the security guard interrupted their make-out session that morning, she and Scott had only spoken as necessary on the drive down from Pasadena. He was playing it as if nothing had happened. She was doing her damnedest to follow suit, but failing miserably.
Then again, if she couldn’t muster the courage to lift her shirt for him, hooking up was probably a bad idea anyway.
“Your hair is clearly long and blond,” he said, studying the low-quality image pulled from the gas station’s security camera. He glanced her way, keeping his eyes trained above her neck. “But the glasses and ponytail are enough though, I think.”
She’d bought another pair of reading glasses and changed into a tight, gray, scoop-neck T-shirt that emphasized her figure in a way that made her want to squirm. But it changed her appearance even more. When she dressed like this, people—men and women alike—focused more on her chest than her face.
The ease with which a person could make themselves unrecognizable never failed to awe her. Even a celebrity might put her hair up and go out without makeup, and only the most ardent fan or paparazzi would recognize her unless they saw her leave her house.
Sure, a crowded place like the bookstore still posed a threat—more people meant more eyeballs on them—but it was easier to blend into the crowd in a busy place than a quiet one. The other half of the battle was acting normal, like they had nothing to hide, something Valerie was a pro at and Scott seemed to have a knack for too.
“I need a way to contact Kurt securely,” he said, “but quicker than the telegram method you used earlier.”
“We can text him directly from the Internet, but if someone’s hacked his phone, they’ll see it.”
He scowled and blew out a long breath. “This is getting fucking ridiculous.”
“What if I could get us a ride?” Why hadn’t the idea come to her earlier?
“Explain.” He lifted a steaming mug of coffee to his lips. Lips that had kissed her like—
Focus.
She stalled for a second, trying to recapture her thoughts. “There’s a guy who lives in Escondido, maybe an hour from here. Or at least, he used to. I met him in person a couple times when he came to Texas, and after I moved in with my papá’s family here in California, he checked on me every few months. I think he might be willing to drive us to D.C. Or maybe hook us up with someone who can.”
“Won’t the FBI be watching people from your past?”
“There’s a good chance they don’t know who this guy actually is even if they’re tracking his online activity somehow. I think it’s worth the risk.”
“You trust him?” To a casual observer, Scott was a just a shaggy-haired surfer type wearing a band shirt—apparently he built his wardrobe at concerts—hanging out with a friend. But his gaze on her… The intensity of it made her stomach dance.
“As much as I can trust anyone. I know a lot of his secrets. If he turns us in, he goes down too.”
Scott frowned. “That doesn’t make for the best relationship.”
She shook her head. “That’s all secondary. Alan’s like an uncle to me. The kind who doesn’t take advantage when you sit on his lap.”
Scott’s eyes widened, and his lips parted in his own understated version of shock.
She laughed. “God, you should see your face. Who knew you were such an easy target?”
He gave her a humorless smile and a heavy dose of skepticism before donning his poker face, but she could sense him studying her profile as she returned to her search. Somehow she needed to block out his scrutiny and stay on task.
“So,” she said brightly. “Should I contact him?”
