My hands tighten on the wheel. “I’m thinking of one.”
“Think faster. We need to get rid of them.”
Yeah, I’m feeling the pressure.“How’s Amy?”
“Silent. The way I like her.”
Not quite the answer I want. It’s becoming obvious Nolene’s personal grudge against Amy is affecting her ability to do her job. I heave a mental sigh. I don’t want to take her off this assignment, but her bias is becoming too risky to tolerate. The irony doesn’t escape me. Here I am, worrying about Nolene when I know I pose the greater threat to Amy.
I glance in the rearview mirror. The Nissan is still doggedly trailing us.
Nolene’s right. I’m running out of time.
A shopping mall looms on our right in a concrete, commercialized sprawl. An idea worms its way into my head. Feeling my pulse pick up with excitement, I turn right at the traffic light into the multi-level underground parking lot of the mall, the Nissan still following closely.
“What are you doing?” Nolene asks sharply.
“I have a plan.”
“Does that plan involve shopping?” she asks with a trace of sarcasm.
“Yes.”
Stopping next to the ticketing machine, I take the ticket it spits out, the boom rising to let us in. I double-park outside entrance two and keep the engine running.
“There’s a hardware store about five stores in. I need a tube of silicone.”
To her credit—and one of the reasons we work so well together—Nolene trusts me enough not to argue. Opening the back door, she scoots out and jogs the short distance inside.
I keep my eyes trained on the rearview mirror, smiling slightly when I see the Nissan slow down indecisively. Nolene’s sudden appearance must have thrown them. They’re still clever enough though, to keep far enough away so I can’t catch a glimpse of their faces.
Five minutes later, Nolene gets back into the car.
“You got it?” I ask.
“Of course.”
She drops the tube into my lap. I tap the accelerator and head for the boomed exit. There’s one car between us and the Nissan. Unscrewing the lid to the silicone, I pull up next to the street-level ticketing machine and insert my ticket into the slot. Parking is free for the first hour. The instant the boom lifts, I squeeze a thick wad of silicone into the ticket slot and accelerate past the upraised boom and out of the parking lot.
Nolene twists around in the back seat. “Did it work?”
“Yep,” I confirm with a grin.
My last glimpse in the rearview mirror showed the Nissan hemmed in by a Jeep Cherokee in front and a Corolla hugging their back bumper. The jammed ticketing machine will keep them there for a while.
“Good trick,” Nolene congratulates me as I take a right turn back onto the street, flooring the accelerator. After a moment, she says, “They aren’t the police.”
“No.”
The police won’t send an unmarked vehicle with no visible sign of backup in response to a hostage situation.
“Someone’s ratted us out,” she offers finally.
“No way,” I deny, yet even as I shake my head doubts strafe me.
The Nissan was there before Amy made her phone call. I’m almost certain I spotted the car before today. But who would be watching us? The only people in AFD who know about the safe house are me, Nolene, and Justin. I immediately dismiss Nolene; she would never betray me. Justin is the wild card, but not even the most cynical cell in my body can imagine Justin turning on me like that. And Ross and Merele—knowing what their reaction would be—had deliberately been kept in the dark concerning Amy’s kidnapping.
So who could have betrayed us?
