Authors: Patricia; Potter
He hung up and turned. Kirke was behind him.
Had she heard anything? He hoped to hell not.
She looked at him with a question in her eyes.
He shrugged. “An old acquaintance. I thought he could help find Dallas.”
Her face didn't change. He couldn't tell whether she'd heard more of the conversation or not.
“Time to get going,” he said, starting for the car. Damn but she got to him. He wanted to reach out and touch her hair. Hell, he wanted to do a lot more than that. He also hated deceiving her, but it was more important to get her out of harm's way. “You look tired,” he added. “I'll drive for while. Try to get some sleep.”
“Where are we going?”
“West. Texas.”
“That's a long way. A plane ⦔
“We can't risk that,” he said more curtly than he intended. “Driving day and night, relieving each other, we can get there in about twenty hours. Are you up for it?”
She nodded. “I did it a lot of times in college.”
Jake got in the driver's side, turned the key in the ignition, and they drove out of the parking area.
Kirke knew she shouldn't jump to conclusions. She'd already separated the good guys from the bad ones in her mind. Yet when she'd left the restroom she'd stopped at the sound of Jake's voice as he talked on the phone. It was low, but she heard one phrase:
I want her out of this. Any way you can
.
Did he mean her? Or, God help her, Dallas?
She pretended sleep and actually slipped into it.
Gunshots. Merlin's siren. Hands grabbing at her
.
“Kirke!”
She heard his voice from a distance and tried to understand. Then slowly she emerged from the fog of sleep. Nightmare. It was just a nightmare. The same as last night except for Merlin.
She shook her head and peered out of the car. It was dark. He'd stopped on the side of the road, and vehicles were ripping past them.
“I'm okay,” she said. “Just a bad dream. What time is it?'”
“Around ten.”
“I should drive.”
“Can you?” He asked.
“With some coffee and cold water.”
“We need gas. I'll stop at the next likely looking exit, and we'll switch.”
He started the car again and returned to the road. She looked down at her hands. They were shaking slightly.
Merlin
. Ten o'clock. It wasn't too late to call Robin. She knew Robin stayed up late.
“Can I use the cell phone?” she asked him. “I want to call Robin.”
“The feds might have this number now,” he said. “They can trace it.”
“We're in the middle of the country,” she said. “If we don't use it again, they'll have no idea where we're heading.”
He hesitated.
“I won't be long.”
He handed her the phone. “We'll get another prepaid as soon as I can. We won't have to be so careful.”
She nodded and punched in Robin's number.
“Hey, I hope it isn't too late,” she said when Robin answered almost immediately. “How's Merlin?”
“Chatting away and whistling a weird melody.”
“He's eating?”
“Oh yes.” A pause. “You okay?”
Not really, but she wasn't going to tell Robin she was nearly kidnapped last night. “Yes,” she lied. “I have to ask another favor.”
“What is it?”
“Information.”
Jake glanced at her but didn't say anything.
“I'll do my best,” Robin said on the other end. “Okay, what or who do you want me to find?”
“A woman named Dallas Haley. Probably H-a-i-l-e-y or H-a-l-e-y. She used to live in Williamsburg, Virginia, and was manager of a bar named the Enigma some ten years ago. It's closed now, occupied by a bakery/deli.” She gave Robin the address.
“How do I reach you?”
Kirke gave her Jake's cell phone number.
“Oh,” Robin said, “I checked on that agent you asked about. He just came to the Atlanta office.”
“Thanks,” Kirke said, hearing the strain in her voice.
She glanced at Jake. He was driving easily, concentrating on the wheel. She quickly tapped the keys to see his call list. Two. She memorized them in her head, then turned the cell off.
Had he noticed? If he did, he wasn't reacting.
A few minutes later he turned off on an exit road. They stopped at an all-night gas station and convenience store. She went inside as he pumped gas into the car. She bought a cup of coffee and scarfed down a cold com dog. Pretty awful, but she was used to grabbing food on the quick. Jake came in and selected an even more evil-looking piece of fried chicken and ate it on the way back to the car.
She got into the driver's seat and steered the car back on the interstate.
“Take I-85 to Atlanta, then we'll take I-20 the rest of the way,” he said.
“Where do we go when we get to Texas?” she asked.
“Hopefully, your friend Robin will come up with some ideas,” he said.
It wasn't what she wanted to hear. She wanted to ask him who he'd talked to at the rest stop, but he would probably lie to her again, just as he'd lied to her then.
She kept hearing the federal agent's words.
He's dangerous, and he'll do anything to get to the diamonds
. She hadn't liked him. Hadn't liked his arrogance. Was that why she hadn't listened? Much less believed? But now there was the mysterious phone call Jake hadn't shared with her.
Still, this was a man who'd saved her life twice. That gave him the benefit of the doubt.
And, God help her, she wanted to be with him.
But she would be more cautious when they reached their destination. She glanced over at him. He appeared to be asleep. So quick. But then she'd learned that about him. He was obviously trained to grab sleep whenever he could. She knew, though, that he would waken at the slightest unusual sound. He was uncanny about that.
She turned all her concentration on the road.
CHAPTER 25
Jake checked his primary cell phone at a rest stop just over the Texas line. He no longer kept it on nor would he make calls on it, but he could receive messages with no risk of being pinpointed.
He had a new phone, purchased in Louisiana, to make necessary outgoing calls.
Among the messages was one from Kirke's friend Robin. The other was from Sam.
He handed the new phone to Kirke and walked away so she could have privacy.
She called Robin first.
“Kirke, I tracked down the bar and found its address. It closed five years ago. I Googled Dallas Haley's name. Went through about a million of them and finally had a hit. Wouldn't suspect there were so many women named Dallas, or so many other Dallases of one kind or another. It was Haley, spelled H-a-l-e-y. Finally found a story in a local Williamsburg paper on her. It's one of those small, neighborhood newspapers. I can e-mail it to you, or just read the pertinent parts.”
“Pertinent parts,” Kirke replied.
“It looked like one of the paid news stories about a business, the ones that look like a news story but is really a paid advertisement. Interviewed several people. Never mentioned CIA, but did say the majority of its customers came from surrounding military bases. The name, of course, is a dead giveaway to anyone who knows CIA history and the breaking of the Enigma code during World War II.” Kirke heard the glee in Robin's voice when she talked about the name of the bar. Robin loved history.
“Anyway,” Robin continued, “the story mentioned the manager named Dallas. Last name Haley. It quoted her as saying the bar was like a big family, that everyone looked after each other.
“I called down to the paper, said I was doing an article for the travel section and found the article. The writer of the article was editor of the paper, and she remembered Dallas. She'd gone to the tavern several times with friends, and on one visit the owner said business wasn't so good. She thought she would help by writing the story.”
“Did she know it was a CIA watering hole?”
“I asked her that. She said it was rumored, but then they also got some military people in there. Said maybe the powers that be at CIA heard the rumors and made it off-limits. Not good for security to have CIA agents drinking in a place everyone knew about. Business dropped off, hence the story. She said this Dallas managed the place until the owner sold it. When she was writing the story, she asked Dallas if she'd been born in Dallas, and Dallas said no, Denton, Texas. Her mother had the habit of naming the kids after places where they were born, but the father said no to Denton. So she was named for nearby Dallas.”
Kirke was awed. Robin always had a way with people. She obtained information no one else could. Politicians would spill the damndest things to her. “Much more than I expected,” she said. “Thank you.”
“I couldn't find anything on her after she left Williamsburg, though. No property or tax records. No wedding license. No records at all in Texas.” She paused. “There's something else.”
Robin's tone warned her. “What?”
“There was a murder at the shopping center you mentioned yesterday. As I was talking to the reporter, she was working on the story. A woman was killed in the shopping area where the Enigma used to be. Police believe it was a robbery. A Closed sign was on the door during business hours, and the woman was found in the kitchen. She'd been stabbed.”
“What was her name?”
“Edna Caswell,” Robin said, then, “I don't know what you're mixed up in, but I would like more information.”
Kirke's heart beat rapidly, and she stifled a cry. Edna. The cheerful woman who'd met her husband at the Enigma. She and Jake had stopped there, and now she was dead. She could barely breathe for a moment. When it was only her life, she could justify trusting Jake.
Could she still justify it?
“I'll call you back,” Kirke said.
“Where are you? No, you don't have to tell me. Texas.” Robin's voice held resignation. “Do you know what you're doing?”
No
. “Yes,” she said, ignoring the other voice in her head. She needed to talk to Jake. Then she would decide.
“Kirke, if this is something illegal ⦔
Kirke decided to hit beneath the belt. “Remember when you were breaking a few laws on the officer slaying story?”
“You've broken laws?”
“Not unless helping someone is breaking a law.”
“Except sometimes it's called being an accessory. Be sure you know what you're doing. Murder's involved now.”
If only she knew. Not one murder but, to her count, four now. Maybe more.
She ignored the comment and, instead, she tried to divert Robin. “When it's over, you'll have the biggest story since your Pulitzer nomination. Might even win this time.”
“I would rather have a live friend.”
Kirke had no answer for that. “I have to go. I'll call you tomorrow. I swear. Everything might be over by then.”
“What about your job?” Robin asked.
“I have a few weeks' leave after the sniper incident.”
Silence.
“Got to go, Robin. Thanks. I owe you.” She hung up before Robin said anything else to her, but her heart was still pounding.
“What's wrong?” Jake was next to her. “Kirke?”
“Edna from yesterday is dead. Stabbed. A robbery, police said.” She looked up into his eyes. “But we know otherwise.”
He closed his eyes. He reached out to touch her, then dropped his hand to his side. “God, no,” he said.
“Robin has offered several times to talk to her husband. He's a good guy, Jake. A really good guy.”
Jake opened his eyes, and his gaze met hers. “He might want to help, but I'm a convicted felon, Kirke. And I'm now officially a fugitive. My reasons for breaking the release conditions won't matter to the government, not unless I can prove I was innocent. But I want you out of it now. I have some friends. They'll take care of you.”
“You're not going to stop?”
“I can't. I'm getting close. Adams might know about Dallas now. If they do, she's in as much danger as Edna.” He gave her a searching look. “Did she tell you anything else?”
“Our Dallas's last name is H-a-l-e-y. She comes from Denton, Texas. Robin couldn't find any records for her. No marriage records. No property records.”
She found herself swaying. She was still stunned by the news about Edna and filled with grief for the woman and her husband.
Jake put his arm around her and held her close for a moment. “I'm sorry,” he whispered in her ear. “If I could go back in time ⦔
She heard a slight break in his voice. Maybe no one else would realize, but she knew him now. He felt Edna's loss as much as she. One moment she would feel that strong attraction, even a closeness she'd never felt with anyone else, and then he turned into a stranger.
He did that now. He walked a few feet away and made a call with the new phone. She heard only a few yeses and nos, then, “I'll be there.”
Not we. I
.
“You want to tell me about that?” she asked when he finished.
“No,” he said, and this time the side of his lips moved upward in a sexy, tantalizing smile. “But I will. We're meeting two people I know. Both were in Special Forces with me. One's been doing his damndest to help me these past years. I asked them to come down and take you somewhere safe.”
“That was the conversation you had yesterday?”
“I was afraid you'd heard,” he admitted. “I didn't think you would agree. I thought you would try to find some way to avoid them.”
“You didn't think I should have a say in it?” she said, outraged now. “Were you going to kidnap me? Is that why you said, âWhatever it takes'?”
“Yes, dammit.”
“Why tell me now?”
“Edna Caswell is dead because she talked to us. I figured that would scare sense into you.”