No one could miss the way Valerie looked at Alan. He was everything Scott wasn’t. Tall, broad-shouldered, well dressed, a techie like her, and very “hands on.” At every opportunity, he touched her shoulder, her arm, her hand, her hair.
Plus, she had a history with the guy. A relationship of trust.
Hell, he hadn’t even questioned her story about Hollowell framing the two of them. Just took her at her word without blinking.
And, unlike Scott, Alan wasn’t a killer.
“I can drive you as far as Texas,” Alan had said after consulting a map on his iPhone. “But I have to be back for a face-to-face with a client on Friday. The guy doesn’t do holidays.”
Valerie gave Alan an enthusiastic hug that made Scott’s chest burn. Not that Scott had any right to be jealous. He’d already decided he couldn’t risk getting intimate with her. Well, not again, anyway. There was too much at stake for that kind of distraction—the awkward tension between them was already off the charts—and he didn’t want hurt feelings when they parted ways.
But that didn’t mean he wanted to watch her go gaga over Mr. Tall, Dark, and Debonair.
Sleep would help pass the time, but he didn’t share Valerie’s blind trust of the man behind the wheel. The scenery through tinted windows turned increasingly barren. His brain didn’t have much more to offer when it came to ideas for cornering Hollowell.
Without some kind of evidence that Hollowell was involved, or something with which to extort Valerie’s old boss, Scott didn’t see any way out of this life on the run. For that, he needed Valerie’s and Alan’s expertise. Unless he could beat a confession out of the man.
Not freaking likely.
Scott’s mind went in circles, conjuring and discarding ideas, coming up with very little. But stopping meant his mind wandered to his mom. What was she thinking right now? Was she safe? Had she received his telegram?
Did she believe he was innocent?
That mattered more than it should have.
Some time later, he woke in that instant way he’d developed in Afghanistan, no groggy transition from dreams to confusion to final awareness. He might not know where exactly he was in the world—somewhere with low shrubs, some cactus, fields of cotton, and little else—but he knew immediately that he was in the backseat of Alan’s car and that it was late afternoon.
Valerie snoozed in the front seat, her head resting on Scott’s balled-up sweatshirt against the side window. Country music played faintly in the background.
Scott rubbed his face and glanced at his watch. Sixteen hundred. How could he have fallen asleep?
He caught Alan’s gaze in the rearview mirror, and the man’s eyes crinkled as if he were smiling.
“Where are we?” Scott asked, mostly managing to keep the irritation out of his voice.
“About thirty minutes east of Yuma,” the driver replied, his voice low, presumably in deference to Valerie’s slumbering state. “We’ve been on the road about three hours.”
The Marines had an air station in Yuma, but Scott had never been there. “You need a break? I can drive.” Riding in back made him feel like a ten-year-old.
“Nah, I’m good.”
Not that he could blame the guy. Scott might let Valerie take the wheel, but he’d never give up control to Alan if their positions were reversed.
They sat in silence for several minutes before Alan said, “I only have her best interests at heart, you know.”
“Glad to hear it.”
“I understand if you don’t trust me.”
Was the guy reading his mind? Scott shrugged—a gesture probably lost in the rearview mirror. “I don’t have much choice now, do I? Besides, Valerie trusts you. That’s enough for now.”
“You could go your own way. ”
You’d probably like that, wouldn’t you, asshole?Scott’s jaw clenched and he crossed his arms. “Oh, yeah? And who’s going to protect her after you drop her in Fort Worth?” And before?
“I have friends who can help.”
Was that a threat or a brag? “I think it’s better to minimize the number of people who know where she is, don’t you?”
