| |
Jake stared at his cousin—his boss—in disbelief. “Seriously?”
“Affirmative,” said Quinn. “The plane was left beside the runway while Logan and the pilot ferried supplies to the house. Tara stole it. She flew into Fort Melton, picked up a rental car, and was last spotted getting onto highway ninety-seven, heading south.”
“How the hell did Grace and Logan let this happen? They’re supposed to be the best.”
“They are. But not knowing she could fly, there was no way to anticipate this move.”
“There had to be a key left in it and that’s stupid no matter how you look at it.”
“Jake,” said Rachel. “You might want to back down a notch and consider that your lady friend has a lot more savvy than anyone has given her credit for. Personally, I applaud her guts and determination. She strikes me as a perfect mix of Cass and Angie. She did what she thought she needed to do and didn’t put anyone but herself at risk. Her life hasn’t been her own since the end of April. I’d be going stir crazy in her shoes.”
Jake threw himself into a chair. Rachel had good points, but hell, Tara had stolen a plane. Taken an enormous risk. It was done. Time to move on. “Where do we go from here?” he asked Quinn. Business was business, and as of now, he was shelving his personal interest in Tara. Had to because it obviously got in the way of his perception, judgement, whatever. Hell, his instincts had been trying to warn him since he’d met her. There was something under the surface he was missing and it was about time he figured it out.
“I’ll put the map on the big screen,” said Rachel.
“We’ll keep the tail on Brady, and hopefully, find Tara before they cross paths. So, let’s see where she’s headed.” Quinn took the laser pointer Rachel offered and used it to show areas as he referred to them. “She took off from here, and landed in Fort Melton. She was last seen on this highway, southbound in a silver two-door compact at noon, so she’s been driving for two hours, max.” Rachel clicked on the mapping program and a circle appeared. “The red line represents the farthest she could have driven in any direction in the time she’s had.”
“Airports or train stations?” Jake’s thoughts were clear now. Buses? Other rental companies, other types of vehicles, motels, cabins. Hell, she could be on horseback by now for all he knew.
“Not within the perimeter unless she’s found someone to fly her out from a private airstrip. Lots of those, but nothing else that’s public besides Fort Melon. No passenger trains.”
“What have we got for boots on the ground?”
“Logan’s running that end with his people.” Quinn shook his head at Jake’s expression. “We’ll give him a chance to make this right. He’s got the manpower and the expertise. We’ll leave him to fix what got past him.” Logan tapped a fingertip on the table. “He’d do the same for us, and it’s not like there’s much we can do from here anyway. What we are doing is mobilizing to search if she gets past them.”
Jake voiced his gut reaction, “She’s heading home.”
Quinn nodded in agreement, but Rachel was frowning. “What are the chances she’d try to confront Brady?”
Jake shook his head. “Not with the cat along. Thomas nearly killed Charlie once. I can’t see her putting him in danger that way.”
“Good point.” She tipped her head. “Would she leave him anywhere?”
“Nope. He’s her touchstone. But anything happens to him? All bets are off.” He had another idea though. “Do we have any intel on extended or even estranged family? Anyone she belongs to located in that part of the world? British Columbia, Alberta, or Washington even?”
Rachel set to work on the keyboard. “Nothing yet, but I’ll dig deeper.”
“Good. Besides that, what she does have are connections with horse people she’s done work for. Owners, and trainers within the Thoroughbred industry.”
Quinn wound things up. “Jake, you stick with the horse stuff and see what you can find while Rachel handles family connections. I’ll update the team off-site and get their feedback.” He glanced at the large wall clock. “Thirty minutes until Logan checks in. Be ready to share what you’ve learned.
#
The roadside rest stop was a shady oasis, and blessedly empty except for her and Charlie. She’d carried him to a dirt patch and stood guard while he did his business. She’d heard stories about coyotes hiding in bushes and snatching up pampered lapdogs at places like this.
Once she had him safely back in the car, she made her way to the outhouse and peeked in. It was nasty, but what choice did she have? She took a deep breath and managed to hold it for at least half the time she was inside the tiny stink chamber. Still swatting at flies when she left, she ran all the way to the car to escape the stench. “Next time,” she told Charlie, “I’m going behind a tree.” They shared what was left of the water before she eased back onto the highway.
There wasn’t much traffic, and she had more than enough time to think about the wisdom of her escape. It wasn’t the dumbest thing she’d ever done, but it was far from the smartest. Was running away putting her in more danger? Was she taking a risk with Charlie’s life, too?
Well, it wasn’t as if she was being chased by bad guys. Yes, Brady’d been behind the accident in Paris, but was there any proof that he’d known she was the one on the flight? What if the plan had simply been to off the horse so his false identity wasn’t discovered? What if she’d been collateral damage and it’d been nothing more than sheer luck for him that it had been her in particular?
She sighed. “I have to go back, don’t I? There’s likely a freaking posse out after me.” She smiled at the mental image of a whole gang of cowboys with rifles galloping toward her.
Now that she was free and felt better, the degree of desperation she’d allowed to drive her to this drastic move seemed far less overwhelming—much like the way the memory of physical pain fades.
“Do I keep driving until they find us?” she asked the cat. “I’ve no doubt they will. Or do I find a phone in the next town and call? Call who? I don’t have a number for Grace or Logan, or Meyers for that matter. I suppose...”
When they arrived in the village of Clinton, she found a tiny grocery store and used the bit of cash she had to buy water, a couple of sodas, trail mix—the good kind with chocolate chips—and a bag of candy corn she just couldn’t resist. It was a weakness. She spread the empty grocery bag on the floor and popped the top of one of Charlie’s tuna cans. He dove on it as if he hadn’t eaten in days.
She sat back and watched him while making a meal of candy corn and root beer—a perfect way to celebrate what was left of her freedom. She had to go back. With a sigh, she closed her eyes and imagined her mind as a complicated maze of tunnels, all leading to heavy doors. Doors she’d slammed shut, and locked weeks earlier.
Now, she mentally muscled them open, visualized a cleansing breeze wafting through, and was surprised no voices came in. Well, that was good. Made it even more her choice.
When Charlie climbed onto her lap, she opened her eyes and smiled at him. “Good food, pal?”
He rubbed against her chin and she used both hands to massage his neck and the back of his head, a move that relaxed her as much as it did him. It was time.
Grace?
There was no response at first. Could she have shut down, too? Unlikely, but—
Tara! Where the hell... Are you okay?
Yes. I’ve changed my mind, but didn’t bring my phone. Of course you know that. Anyway, I had no way to reach you. Seems silly now... All of it does.
Oh, Tara, where are you?
Ever heard of Clinton? Cute spot. Couple of stores and coffee shops, a gas station.
I love when my instincts are right. We’re in Cache Creek, less than thirty minutes away. Don’t move.
I’m parked in front of the lodge. Big log building, you can’t miss it.
It was over. The knots of tension inside her loosened. She should have felt threatened by Grace being able to anticipate her moves, but instead, warmth took the place of anxiety. She couldn’t put her finger on what it was, but there was something special between her and Grace.
Bet your ass.
Oops, she was still broadcasting.
Please don’t shut down on me, Tara. Our connection is important to me, too. And I don’t just mean so we can find you.
Tara kept her thoughts still.
I mean it, Tara. You matter.
Why?
Good question. I’ll let you know when I figure it out. In the meantime, please don’t shut down on me.
I won’t.
#
Something was off. Logan rested his hand on the back of Grace’s neck tapping into her energy. “You okay?”
She sighed. “Sometimes it’s hard.”
Grace always gave herself fully, and often, a case would drain her. But this was different. “What is it about Tara in particular?”
“I know her like she’s one of mine, one of the girls I’ve rescued.”
“Could it be her heritage? Another genetic connection?”
She tipped her seat so she could plant her bare feet on the dashboard. “I’ve researched her family history and don’t see any threads to tug, but with my grandfather’s track record, anything’s possible.”
More than possible. In the last few years, they’d discovered Francesco had sired numerous children around the globe while enjoying the high-flying lifestyle of an international polo star. “Rachel’s doing a deep background on Tara. Perhaps you should ask her to program in Francesco’s travel history to see if he happened to cross paths with any of the females in Tara’s family.”
“Couldn’t hurt,” she replied. “But it’s not the same kind of connection I felt with Julia or any of the others. It’s like working with a familiar choreographer, knowing he’ll have someone in the wings, ready to step on stage when the music changes. You know they’re there, and they have their own steps, but you’re all a part of the whole.” She dropped her feet back on the floor and adjusted the seat back.
“The way she can so easily open and close the doors of her mind niggles at me. I’ll figure it out eventually, but for now, I’ll let it steep.” She took his hand, placed her lips against his palm, and then sat up straight. “She’s suddenly shut down, like a light was switched off. Can you get anything from her?”
He was well aware of how hard Grace’s heart pounded while he did and extra-sensory energy scan. “Nothing.” He glanced at the GPS. “Should be there in less than ten.” He pressed harder on the accelerator.
Grace leaned toward the dash, her hands braced on her knees, and stared forward as though willing the tiny town to show itself. “I think being only an hour from her home will be better for her, make her more comfortable.” She glanced at the clock. “As long as something hasn’t gone sideways now.”
The icy calm of op-mode kept him driving hard and mentally on task with the conversation as well. “You’re hoping she’ll open up. Tell you what she’s been hiding.”
She shook her head. “I don’t know if she can. And you got nothing when you tried to read her, right?”
“Whatever she’d hiding is very well protected, wired in, you might say, and fiercely protected. Reminds me a bit of you when we met.” Logan grinned. “But nobody else could be that tightly wound or obstinate. You will always hold the record.” His smile faded. “I pity Jake. He’s in for one hell of a ride.”
“Hey.”
“Not saying the end wasn’t worth the fight, but boy does he have his work cut out for him.”
“Well, at least no one could accuse me of being easy.”
Logan veered onto the shoulder and ground the big SUV to a stop. He framed her face. “Easy is not a word anyone would ever attribute to you.” The kiss was hard and fast. “I love you,” he said, and put the car back in gear.
Four minutes later they spotted the abandoned rental car.