Fight or Flight (14 page)

“I’m going to the vending machine,” Tyler announced, taking orders. When he left, Kelsey cornered Regan by the desk.

“I don’t even want to know what happened in there,” she said, holding up a hand. But she bent closer and murmured, “You deserve a little happiness. Good for you.”

“There’s nothing to be happy about, Kels.” But she couldn’t lie and say nothing had actually
happened.

“He’s a good guy.”

A while later, after they’d eaten their snacks and played charades and pretended there wasn’t a Big Ugly Something hanging over them, Regan lay awake on the floor between beds. Tyler and Tom shared one bed, and Kelsey and Van the other, but both were too narrow for three. Since there was no way Regan was letting Tom and Kelsey sleep together and she wasn’t sleeping next to Tyler with her daughter three feet away, she’d insisted on taking the spare blanket and pillows and finding the most stain-free area of rug to sleep on. No one had dared argue.

Kelsey was right. Tyler was a good guy. And that made what she had to do infinitely harder.

Kelsey woke suddenly with her mother’s hand over her mouth and the room pitch dark save for the faint glow of neon between the opaque curtains. She didn’t move until she’d processed everything around her. They’d played this game when she was little, and practiced it when she was older. Both ways, so if anyone invaded their home while they were asleep, one could alert the other without alerting the bad guys.

Tonight, though, there didn’t seem to be any. Van dozed back-to-back with Kelsey, and she could see two big lumps in the other bed that had to be Tom and Tyler. She shifted her focal point so her peripheral vision took over. Both men were breathing. She couldn’t see or sense anyone else in the room.

She gave a tiny nod, and her mother removed her hand and bent over her ear. “Get your shoes on and come outside with me.”

As silently as possible, Kelsey slipped her feet into her untied shoes—she’d been sleeping in her clothes, as they all had for the past couple of days—and followed her mother out the door. They moved away from the building, but when they didn’t stop in the shadows at the end as Kelsey expected, she grabbed her mother’s arm.

“What’s going on?”

“I’ll tell you in a minute.” She continued across the parking lot and onto the street, walking in the silent darkness along the edge of the curb.

Realizing they weren’t staying close, Kelsey called softly, “Hang on!” and bent to tie her sneakers. Her mother waited, her weight shifting back and forth, betraying her impatience.

Irritation surged. If her mother couldn’t be bothered to tell her what was going on—

As soon as she straightened, her mother started walking again, going in the direction of the highway.

“Mom! Come on! Tell me where we’re going!”

“In a minute,” she said over her shoulder. “Wait until we get further away. I don’t want them to wake up and come after us.”

Kelsey’s breath caught, and she understood. Argument and reason had gotten them nowhere, so they were just sneaking off in the dark.

Part of her was relieved. Maybe now Tom and Van would be safe. But what if they were wrong, and the bad guys punished her friends? Unless…

“Are we going to the airport?”

Her mother hesitated fractionally, then nodded. Kelsey held her tongue with difficulty. If they were doing what the guy on the phone had told them to do, everything would be okay. Her friends wouldn’t be hurt, and she and her mother could handle whatever came next.

She only wished she could believe that.

Regan hurried, most of her senses tuned to her daughter’s presence behind her. The rest listened and watched for people or vehicles. She hoped to God she was doing the right thing.

Half an hour later, after leaving the commercial strip and crossing through three residential neighborhoods before returning to a business district, she found what she was looking for. It was almost two in the morning, when the bars all closed down. This street held a couple, and several cabs idled in front. Regan caught Kelsey’s arm and rushed her to one, shoving her into the back seat and sliding in behind her.

“Airport, please.”

The cabbie hit some buttons and pulled out, humming softly. Only then did the relentless pressure at the back of Regan’s throat ease. They rode in silence back to the airport, which was surprisingly busy for the middle of the night.

“Arrivals or departures?” the driver asked.

“Arrivals,” Regan said. He took the ramp down to the lower level of the terminal and braked in front of the Delta sign. She paid him with a good tip and got out of the cab. Kelsey frowned next to her while Regan scanned the crowd for signs of the people who’d attacked them earlier. They hadn’t been on the flight the caller wanted them on, so he might have people looking for them in case they took another flight, or one to somewhere else.

Kelsey’s thoughts must have run in the same direction. “They’re probably looking for us. Why haven’t they called?”

“I turned all the phones off.”

“He’s going to be pissed.”

Regan motioned for them to cross the now-empty drive. “Who? The caller or Tyler? Or Tom?”

Kelsey laughed, though there was little humor in the sound. “All of the above. I meant Tyler, though.” Once they were in the dimness of the garage, she moved closer to her mother. “Will you please tell me what we’re doing?”

“Looking for Tyler’s truck.” She led the way to the long-term garage and walked up the main aisle, scanning the crowded structure for the big white pickup. “We’re going to take the truck to California.”

“How are we going to do that?”

Regan pulled Tyler’s keys out of her pocket and hit the remote button. No beep sounded. She kept hitting it as they walked, but there was nothing.

“You lifted his keys?” Kelsey sounded so incredulous, Regan stared at her.

“Why are you so shocked?”

Kelsey shrugged. “It’s just, you—you know, you guys—in the shower.”

Regan’s face heated and she avoided her daughter’s eyes. “Up one level. And we’re not talking about that.”

“But, I mean, don’t you care about him?” Kelsey’s breath came faster as they jogged up the stairs in the corner of the garage. “Why would you betray him?”

She couldn’t help it. She whirled on her daughter, startling her so she fell back a couple of steps. “I’m
not
betraying him,” she insisted. “I’m trying to protect him. He’s in more danger with us. They all are.”

“Okay, okay, geez. I just thought…” Kelsey trailed off, a sad note in her voice that echoed the ache in Regan’s heart.

Even if the Harrisons were behind everything, she didn’t think Tyler believed it. He knew she couldn’t trust them, couldn’t take his word that they weren’t the enemy, and that was why he’d resisted telling her for so long. But whether they were the enemy or not didn’t matter. Being caught in the middle could be deadly for him, and she couldn’t allow that.

They searched three more levels before they found the vehicle. Regan unlocked it and climbed in while Kelsey went around to the passenger side. She lowered the visor and plucked the parking ticket from the strap holding it, then took a moment to familiarize herself with the controls. After adjusting the seat and mirrors, she started the truck with a roar that subsided immediately to a comforting rumble.

“Can you drive this?” Kelsey asked.

“Of course.” She backed slowly out of the tight spot and headed for the exit. “Look in the glove compartment.”

“For what?”

“Anything.”

Kelsey popped the handle and started rummaging through the items inside. “So, when did you learn to drive a giant pickup truck?”

“I didn’t. I drove a forklift and a dump truck.” Feeling her daughter’s surprise, she added, “When you were little.”

“The things I don’t know about you.”

Regan paid the fee at the gate and made it to the highway without mishap. “Okay, what have we got?”

“Tissues, napkins and three packs of gum,” Kelsey inventoried. “The registration—”

“What’s it say? Address?”

Kelsey used two fingers to hold open the envelope and read the paper inside. “Tyler Sloane, and his address next to us in Ohio.”

She’d hoped it had a corporate registration or something, but after two years undercover, it was logical all the bases would be covered. “Okay, what else?”

“A surprisingly compact national road atlas.” She waved the thick book. “His phone.”

“Ditch it.” She’d almost forgotten about the phone and its GPS signal.

“It’s off.”

“Doesn’t matter. It might have been modified to transmit his position anyway.”

Kelsey rolled down her window and tossed the phone out. “GPS destroyed. Check.” She reached back into the glove compartment. “There are a couple of repair orders for the truck, an old stick of lip protectant, a receipt for McDonald’s, and this.” She pulled out a pistol in a pancake holster, her hand wrapped over the side of it.

“Give me that.” Regan snatched it out of her hand.

“I know how to handle a gun,” Kelsey protested.

“I know you do. But I don’t want you to have to.” Keeping her left hand partly on the wheel, Regan checked the safety, chamber and clip before securing the gun and tucking it into her rear waistband. It made driving uncomfortable, but it was safe.

Awfully cavalier, the way she was tossing that word around. It was starting to lose its meaning.

Kelsey replaced everything in the glove compartment and leaned back, bracing her feet on the dash. “What now?”

“Now, we drive. We’ve got a full tank and a lot of distance to cover.” She glanced at her daughter. “And we talk about the new information Tyler gave us.”

Her daughter sighed and folded her arms. “This is going to be fun.”

Regan drove until she couldn’t keep her eyes open. Then she gave Kelsey a crash course in controlling a rear-wheel-drive diesel and let her drive for a few more hours.

Off and on, she tried to draw Kelsey into conversation about why Tyler had said they wanted her. It usually spun off into speculation on the science of it, matter-of-fact suggestions on why Kelsey was important to them. Regan kept dragging it back to emotions, but Kelsey resisted talking about it. She contended that it didn’t matter.

Around noon, both too tired to continue—either driving or talking—they checked into a cheap motel outside Des Moines, Iowa. Regan paid cash and used the new names, though the clerk didn’t ask for ID.

“We should call them,” Kelsey said for the ninth time. “They might think we were taken.”

“The call could be traced,” Regan repeated wearily.

“We’ll keep it short. Use the pay phone out front.”

Her daughter looked so hopeful Regan couldn’t resist her anymore.

“All right, but I’ll do the calling.”

Kelsey jumped to her feet. Her eyes sparkled despite her obvious fatigue. Tom had put that life into her, Regan realized. Just the thought of talking to him gave her daughter a lift. Her heart throbbed once, twice, with regret. Motherly sorrow, of course, the kind all mothers have when their children become adults. But also regret that she had to interfere in their happiness.

Kelsey skipped down the sidewalk to the phone. She jingled a handful of quarters and reached for the receiver, but Regan gently removed it from her hand.

“Let me.” If the bad guys had gotten to the kids and Tyler, she didn’t want Kelsey to be the one making the call. She dialed Van’s phone number and deposited the coins requested. It rang only once before Van’s anxious, high-pitched voice answered.

“Hello? Who the hell is this? If you bastards have her, I’ll—”

“Van, it’s me. Regan.” Apparently, Kelsey had been right to insist they call. “We’re fine.”

“Thank God.” She didn’t pause before launching into her. “Do you have any idea what we’re goin’ through?” Her accent thickened as she went on, but Regan cut her off again. They didn’t have time to be yelled at.

“Are you all okay?”

Van shifted gears without a stutter. “Tom is goin’ apeshit. He upchucked when he woke up and Kelsey was gone, and Tyler is so furious, he’s rigid. He can’t talk without shattering his jaw. I figured you’d skipped on us, but we didn’t
know
, because no one left us a frickin’
note
.”

“I’m sorry, Van. We had to. Let me talk to Tyler.” Regan ignored Kelsey’s frantic motions to hand her the phone. “We have to be quick so no one traces the call.”

Van handed off the phone without another word.

“Where the hell are you?” Tyler’s voice was so tight Regan realized Van hadn’t been exaggerating. “Don’t answer that,” he contradicted himself.

“I wasn’t going to. Anything happen?”

“Besides the wham-bam-thank-you-Tyler-now-I’m-ditching-you? No.”

“You haven’t heard from him?”

“No. And I haven’t talked to the Harrisons, either.”

“Where are you? Don’t answer that.”

Tyler didn’t laugh. “We left the motel. We’re behind you.”

Unease flitted through her. “What do you mean, you’re behind us?”

“I mean we rented a car at the airport—three of those guys were still there, but they didn’t see us—and are on our way to your destination.”

“Are you sure they didn’t see you?”

“Positive.”

“How do you know where we’re going?”

He sighed. “Let’s just say I’ve figured out how you think. Let Kelsey talk to Tom, will you? I think he’s going to throw up again.”

Regan handed the phone to her daughter, who stopped clawing at her hand and snatched it away.

“Tom?”

Regan stepped a few feet away to give her privacy, and distance herself from the cooing. Amazingly, it didn’t frighten her to know Tyler was on her tail—assuming he really was. She wasn’t sure how he knew what she was thinking when she didn’t know herself. But if he had figured out more than she had, and was following them…dammit, she found it comforting. Despite the danger he could be driving right back into.

Why did he still have Van and Tom, anyway? She turned to take the phone from Kelsey but found her hanging up. She cursed, making her daughter’s eyebrows go up.

“What?”

“I thought he was mad at you,” Regan said.

“Nope. Scared.” Kelsey started back to the motel room, covering a huge yawn with the back of her hand. “He thought we’d been taken. But he’s cool now.”

“Why didn’t Tyler send them back to school?”

She shrugged and held out a hand for the key card, which Regan handed her. “I dunno. I think ’cause if he did, they wouldn’t know how we were.”

There was nothing she could do about it now, so Regan locked the room tight behind them, pulled the drapes, and kicked off her shoes.

“Four hours,” she said. “Then we hit the road again.”

“What’s with you and four hours, anyway?” Kelsey grumbled. She automatically took the bed farthest from the door and dropped face-first onto it, snuggling into the pillow she pulled out from under the garish comforter.

“It’s optimum—” She stopped. Kelsey was already asleep. She slid the gun under her own pillow, then lay down and closed her eyes.

She knew when she woke they’d far exceeded her time limit. Between the drapes showed a dim red and blue glow, not the bright sunshine there’d been when they came inside. She started to lift herself off the pillow, then froze.