Take the Key and Lock Her Up (21 page)

“You don’t sound too happy about that.”

“I’m confused. Devlin’s driving like he knows someone is following him, almost like
he
wants
someone to follow him. But he couldn’t have spotted us. What gives?”

The truck slowed, took another turn. Tuck continued straight, zipping to the next
corner, pulling over to wait and see if the truck went down the side street. Seconds
later, it roared past. Tuck waited until two more cars drove by before pulling out
behind them and taking up his position again.

Emily squinted against the bright sun, her sleep-deprived eyesight nowhere near what
it normally was. “Do you have binoculars in this thing?”

“Glove compartment.”

She flipped it open and papers flew out onto the floor as if propelled by a spring.
“Really, Tuck? Do you ever throw stuff away? How do you
find
anything?”

“I have a system. The binoculars are in a small black case on the bottom right, all
the way in the back.”

She shoved her hand where he said and immediately found the case. “Huh. You really
do have a system.”

“Told you.” He grinned.

After zooming the cheap binoculars in on the truck, which was about ten car lengths
ahead now, she said, “I’ll be damned. That’s not Devlin.”

“He’s tall, has dark hair sticking out of the edges of his baseball cap, and he’s
driving Buchanan’s truck. Who else would he be?”

She lowered the binoculars. “I don’t know. But I don’t think that’s him. Devlin’s
shoulders are broader.”

She cringed, immediately wishing she could take the words back. She shot a look at
Tuck. He was staring at her, his brows raised.

He opened his mouth to say something.

“Don’t,” she warned. “Don’t go there.”

He clamped his mouth shut and watched the road.

The truck turned another corner.

“We’ve been down this street before,” Emily said. “This is a waste of time. Pull him
over.”

“So you can admire his broad shoulders?”

“Tuck . . .” she warned.

“Okay, okay. How about justification, though, so I don’t get fired or sued by his
lawyer?”

“I’ll make something up. If the driver
is
Devlin, I’ll remind him he forgot to give me the last names of those yokels in the
alley. If it’s not him, we can arrest the driver for stealing the truck. Or something.
Don’t worry, I’ll figure it out. Just pull him over. Please.”

“It’s your party.” He flipped his grill lights on and floored the accelerator, weaving
through traffic and quickly catching up to the truck. The driver immediately put his
blinkers on and eased to the curb.

“Well, that was easy,” Emily grumbled.

“Did you expect him to take off?”

She shrugged and popped her door open, arriving at the driver’s side just ahead of
Tuck.

The driver rolled his window down and grinned. “Morning, Officer. Is there a problem?”

Definitely
not
Devlin. Devlin’s shoulders were indeed broader, thicker. His jaw was chiseled, his
lips firm yet sensual. His eyes were a cloudy gray. This . . . imposter . . . had
brilliant, azure blue eyes that were both striking and off-putting at the same time.
From the waist up he seemed stocky, like she’d expect a man on the short side to look.

Suspicious, she leaned partially into the window and looked at the truck’s seat. She
shook her head and pointed so Tuck, who was now standing on the other side, could
see what she’d seen.

“Are you in the habit of sitting on a pillow when you drive, sir?” she asked sarcastically.

“Actually, yes. Easier on my back. Was I speeding, Officer?”

“I have no idea. Take the hat off.”

“If this is a strip search, let me warn you, I’m commando today.” He winked.

She very deliberately rested her hand on her holster.

He yanked his hat off and tossed it to the floorboard. Dark, shaggy hair dropped down
to brush against his shoulders.

“Who are you?” Emily demanded.

He held his hand out the window. “Gage Thomas. Pleased to meet you.”

She ignored his hand and flashed her badge. “Why are you driving Devlin Buchanan’s
truck?”

A look of dawning understanding crossed his face and he gave her a sheepish smile.
“Is that why you pulled me over? Did you think I’d stolen his truck? I assure you,
ah, Detective O’Malley, right? You flashed that badge so fast I’m not sure I caught
it.” He leaned over toward the passenger window. “I didn’t see
your
badge, Officer.”

Tuck looked amused but wisely didn’t smile at Emily. He held his badge up longer,
then put it away.

“Detective Tucker,” Gage said. “Nice to meet you too.” He turned back to Emily. “I’m
just doing Devlin a favor. He got hung up, asked me to drop his truck off at his house.
He was worried about leaving it in the police lot. Didn’t know if it would get towed
if it sat there too long. Is that a problem?”

“That depends. Do you have proof that Mr. Buchanan asked you to take his vehicle?”
Emily asked.

“Detective O’Malley,” Tuck said, a warning in his voice.

“I’ve got this, Detective Tucker,” Emily said. “Proof, Mr. Thomas? That you’re authorized
to drive this vehicle?”

“So you
are
worried I might have stolen the truck. That explains why you two were following me.”

Tuck leaned into the window opening. “You knew we were tailing you?”

“Of course. Spotted you back on Bull Street about fifteen minutes ago. If I’d known
you were cops, I would have pulled right over. Honestly, I thought a carjacker might
be after me, so I kept driving through the Historic District. I was close to calling
911 before your lights turned on. I sure was relieved that you turned out to be cops.”

The look of disappointment on Tuck’s face was comical. Devlin had spotted Tuck following
him yesterday. Now Gage Thomas had spotted him today. Tuck’s pride might never recover.

“Proof?” Emily repeated.

“Of course, just a minute.” He grabbed his cell phone, which was sitting on the seat
beside him. He punched a few buttons, then turned it around to face her. “He texted
me half an hour ago, as you can see. And the keys are in the ignition. I didn’t have
to hotwire it, not that I’d know how.” He grinned again and added a wink that just
upped his creepy factor.

“Can you verify Mr. Buchanan’s phone number for me?” she asked. “I’ve been trying
to reach him, but he isn’t picking up.”

Gage rattled off the number.

Her shoulders slumped. “That’s the same one I have.”

Tuck crossed around the front of the truck toward Emily.

“Don’t know what to tell you,” Gage said. “That’s the number he texted me from, the
same number he’s had for years. Maybe he’s out of cell range.”

“Do you expect to see him soon?”

Tuck put his hand on Emily’s arm. “I think we’re done here.”

“I have a few more questions,” she insisted.

“We’ll ask them later, the next time we see Buchanan. Sorry for the inconvenience,
Mr. Thomas.”

“No problem. Have a good day, Officers.”

Tuck pulled Emily away from the truck, back to the car. When the truck pulled away,
she shook his hand off her arm.

“Why did you do that?” she demanded.

“Because you’ve totally lost perspective and you know it. I’m taking you home. Don’t
make me call the lieutenant and have him order you to go to bed. Your tank ran out
hours ago and you’re making all kinds of bad decisions.”

“I can drive myself home. I don’t want you to have to come get me in the morning.
Just take me back to the station and I’ll go home from there.”

He gave her a suspicious glance but didn’t argue.

A
MINIVAN WAS
the last vehicle Devlin would choose to drive for pleasure. But as a hiding place,
it was ideal. Especially with dark-tinted windows and the middle seats removed so
he could sit on the floor unseen. Add to that a black blanket covering his body to
block out the light from his cell phone and the dozens of similar grocery getters
parked nearby in this garage and he felt relatively secure. Or as secure as he could
be with an unknown number of people searching for him—Cougar and his handler, for
sure; Gage, once he joined the hunt; plus whoever had set this whole thing in motion,
unless that unknown person was content to just call the shots, manipulate the system
by framing Devlin as rogue, and let Gage and the others do his dirty work.

The agreement Devlin and Gage had made this morning after Cyprian’s call meant Gage
would delay going after him a little while longer. But friendship could stretch only
so far before Gage had to act. Otherwise Cyprian would realize Gage was helping Devlin
and would put out an EXIT order on Gage too.

He’d been hiding here for the past couple of hours, ever since escaping through the
back of the diner and leading his pursuers on a chase through the streets of Savannah.
They’d come close to catching him a few times. But he’d finally managed to shake them.
For now. Making sure Emily didn’t have to worry about two assassins gunning for her
while SWAT escorted her to the police station had made the mad dash worth it.

His phone vibrated.
Finally
. Gage’s number flashed across the screen.

“How’d it go?” Devlin asked.

“Not the way you’d hoped. I didn’t see anyone in the police lot. And the only tail
I picked up was that detective of yours.”

“O’Malley?”

“That’s the one. She had another detective with her. They seemed like a team.”

“Tuck.”

“Affirmative.”

“You’re sure you didn’t see any enforcers?”

“Positive.”

Devlin scrubbed his jaw, which was sporting more stubble than usual since he’d left
his house in such a hurry this morning and hadn’t trimmed it up. He’d hoped his enemy—the
one behind all of this—would have watched his truck in the police lot and followed
it to see if it led to him. Then Gage could have snapped a photo of the man and Devlin
could have taken it from there. He’d figure out who his enemy was and eliminate him.

“Thanks, Gage. It was worth a try. You called Cyprian before picking up the truck,
like I instructed?”

“Of course.” He laughed harshly. “I’m playing this by the book, covering my ass. I
can’t let him think I’m helping you. I told him that after missing you at your house
I went to the station to see if you’d show up there, maybe to answer more questions
from the police. I saw your truck and took it to keep any sensitive information you
might have hidden inside from falling into the wrong hands.”

“You think he bought it?”

“I didn’t give him a reason not to. Dev? This is the last time I can help you. From
here on out, I’m on mission. You know what that means.”

“That the next time we bump into each other, we’ll finally find out who’s the better
assassin.”

Harsh laughter echoed through the phone. “I hope you find a miracle and straighten
this out with Cyprian before it comes to that. Good luck, my friend.”

“Take care.” He ended the call and dropped the phone into a thermos of water. The
phone was destroyed, along with Gage’s chances of tracing it now that he was actively
hunting Devlin. Even though he was using burn phones, they could still be traced,
but as long as he kept his time on each call to a minimum, the risk was much lower
than if he wasn’t using a burn phone.

The
overall
risk of being caught, however, was
not
low. Enforcers all had the same training. They knew one another’s tricks. Adding
Gage to the mix had been a brilliant move on Cyprian’s part. Gage knew Devlin better
than anyone else. Which meant all of Devlin’s normal hiding places were off the table.
He still had resources his friend didn’t know about—go bags, hidden vehicles, cash—but
every future decision he made had to be preceded with a question: does Gage know about
this?

He set the thermos aside and dug out the satellite phone he had in the go bag beside
him for just this purpose: calling Cyprian. Convincing his boss that he was innocent
wasn’t something he expected to be able to do, though; not after seeing those pictures
on his kitchen table and certainly not if Cyprian believed Devlin had abducted his
favorite enforcer, Kelly.

But that wasn’t his goal.

His goal was to convince Cyprian that Emily wasn’t a threat. He needed to make sure
that his pursuers were told to back off and leave her alone. But he’d also have to
be careful how he went about it. He didn’t want to put Gage in danger by revealing
that he’d helped him.

He noted the time on his wristwatch before punching in Cyprian’s number, figuring
he probably had about two minutes before his boss could triangulate his position.
If any of his pursuers were close by and Cyprian gave them his location, things could
get dicey fast.

The line clicked. Let the games begin.

“Devlin, this is a surprise.” Cyprian’s smooth voice sounded through the phone.

“Sorry to bother you twice in two days.”

“No bother. I’m always happy to hear from you. As a matter of fact, I need to see
you. I’d like you to come to headquarters so we can talk.”

Devlin stiffened. “That’s why I called. Some rookie calling himself Cougar cornered
me in an alley a few hours ago. He said you wanted to see me. The funny thing is,
he had a gun on me at the time. As you can imagine, that left me with a few . . .
concerns. Especially since his handler never showed himself and the two of them shot
at me . . .
and a cop
.”

A deep sigh sounded into the phone. “Let’s not waste time with subterfuge.”

“Meaning you admit you issued an EXIT order for me?”

“There’s no point in denying the obvious.”

“Damn it, Cyprian. What exactly do you think I did that warrants an execution?”

“You’re
the Enforcer
. You know the rules better than anyone. What’s our most sacred rule?”

“Our families can’t be harmed.”