Chuck, who as deputy director had taken over the investigation from Assistant Director Norm Potter, and Mitch had quickly decided that Alaina would be safest if Mitch took her to a location that he didn't share even with Chuck. At the time, Alaina, still stunned by the hit man's attack, hadn't argued. But now she apparently had snapped out of it.
"Pull over," she repeated, more vehemently.
Thinking she was going to be sick, Mitch steered the car onto the highway's shoulder and stopped. She bailed out fast, slamming the door. But instead of being ill, she ducked her head against the rain and began to stride in the direction they had come.
Mitch fell in step beside her, hunching his shoulders. An occasional car whizzed by only a few feet away, tires hissing on the wet pavement. "What are you doing?" he asked.
Her hair, already drenched, hung in curling tendrils, and she swept them out of her face. "I'm not going anywhere with you."
"So, what, you're going to walk back to the city?" He looked around at their surroundings in an exaggerated manner, his hands spread. "We're sixty miles out already. There isn't even a streetlight out here."
Whirling toward him, she planted her hands on his chest and shoved, knocking him back a few steps. "Get back in your car and get the hell away from me."
He had to run to catch up to her again. "Alaina, come on. It's cold and it's raining and, in case you haven't noticed, there's a big target on your back."
"Would that be the same target you've been aiming at?"
"I told you I don't work for him anymore."
"And I'm supposed to just take your word for it."
"I don't think you have much choice."
She responded by picking up her pace.
Staying with her, he tried another angle. "I defied the federal government for you. The feds could toss me in jail for interfering in their investigation."
"Good. Maybe then you'll leave me alone."
He grabbed her arm, hauling her to a stop. "This is nonsense. Just listen --"
She swung around and slapped him. And it was as if the violent action released a torrent of rage and emotion. "How dare you! How dare you say this is nonsense!" The next time she hit him, it was with her fist.
Catching her wrist before she struck him again, he twisted her around, wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her tightly against him, trapping both her arms against her body. He didn't know how else to subdue her without getting a knee in the groin or an elbow in the gut. At the same time, he was all too aware of how they must have looked on the shoulder of the highway. All he needed was for some Good Samaritan to pull over and try to help the damsel in distress. Luckily, no cars had passed them since he had grabbed her.
Against him, Alaina squirmed, groaning her frustration through gritted teeth. He felt her muscles coil and strain, as if she were trying to get leverage to flip him over her shoulder. He was surprised he was able to hold her so easily. In their earlier skirmishes, she'd proved a worthy and strong opponent. But she was weak now, exhausted both mentally and physically. And that seemed to frustrate her all the more.
"Let me go."
The emotion in her voice nearly broke his resolve, but he steeled himself and held on, conscious of her racing pulse in the wrist clamped in his hand. It beat against his palm like a frantic bird trying to escape a glass cage. Her already weakening struggles and sobbing breath made his throat ache. "You're safe with me, Alaina. I promise. You can trust me."
"Let me go, damn you!"
He held fast. "Listen to me. I'm going to help you get Jonah back. That's what you want, isn't it?"
She continued to strain against his grip, but he sensed her attention had focused.
"Think about where you'll be if you walk away from me," he went on. "You have no way of getting to Keller. If you contact him, he'll just send another hired thug after you. You're not safe with the FBI. That's obvious after tonight. But I know where Keller lives."
Her body tensed again, but it was the tension of someone who was listening intently.
"We're going to go somewhere safe," he said. "Where Keller's hired killers can't find you. Because if you end up dead, Jonah's out of luck. Right?"
She relaxed some, her breath hitching.
He took that to mean he had gotten through to her. "I know you have no reason to believe I'm on your side," he said. "But I'm willing to prove it to you if you give me a chance."
She didn't respond for a long moment, but she also didn't try to fight him anymore. Finally, she whispered, "Please let me go."
He released her. Facing him, she studied him while rain ran down her face in rivulets. It reminded him of the first time he'd looked into her eyes, when she'd been flat on her back in the street after being hit by the cab. The jolt he felt was stronger now, and made it difficult to draw a deep breath.
Without speaking, she walked past him toward the car. He followed, relieved that he had gotten through to her. She might not have trusted him, but he could give her what she wanted most. He knew her well enough to know that she would risk everything to get it.
In the car, he shucked his leather jacket and handed it over to her. "You need to get warm," he said, and cranked up the car's heater.
He pulled back into traffic while she burrowed under his jacket. "When was the last time you ate?" he asked.
"I don't remember."
Reaching into the back seat, he hauled forward a backpack that he plopped into her lap. "There're PowerBars in there. Eat one."
She bristled at the command, but he headed off her protest. "Yesterday, you nearly kicked my ass twice. Tonight, you couldn't best a kitten. You're going to need your strength to take on that son of a bitch."
Zipping open the canvas pack, she plucked out a PowerBar and ripped open the packaging. He let her swallow three bites before he glanced sideways at her. She was staring out the side window, her jaw working as she slowly chewed. He figured he didn't have to wonder what she was thinking. Her thoughts were focused entirely on Jonah. He couldn't relate to such single-minded determination, and it made him feel inadequate as a father and as a man. If he'd had half her resolve, he never would have allowed his ex to shut him out of his son's life.
He cleared his throat. "So tell me why you have no problem slapping the crap out of me, but you can't seem to pull a trigger to save your own life."
Finishing off the PowerBar, she crumpled the wrapper in her hand. "How did you know where to find me?"
He let her change the subject for now. "Chuck -- the guy who took down Keller's man -- he's a deputy director in the Bureau. He gave me a hint."
"How did the hit man find me?"
"We think Keller's got someone in the Bureau," he said, glancing sideways in time to see her fist clench around the PowerBar packaging.
At least half a minute passed before she said, "My sister could be at risk."
It was the response he'd been hoping for, an indication that she cared about the woman who'd put her own life on the line to protect her and Jonah despite the circumstances of Jonah's birth, whatever they were. He didn't know why that seemed important, but it was. It reassured him that he'd chosen the right side. "Chuck said the Bureau has gone to great lengths to shield her identity," he said. "She's been dealing only with A.D. Potter and his office. If Keller hasn't found out about her by now, it's likely he won't."
"You trust them?"
"I used to be one of them."
"That's not an answer." Her voice sounded stronger now.
"I trust Chuck," he said. At least in times like these, he thought.
"But you wouldn't tell him where we're going."
"It was safer not to."
"Where are we going?" she asked.
"Cabin in the Shenandoahs I've rented a couple times. Very secluded," he said. "Of course, it's about a three-mile hike, so it's a good thing you ate something. You're going to need it." He paused, hitting the high beams as the road curved, trees growing dense on either side. "Now it's your turn. Why didn't you shoot that guy when you had the chance?"
Looking out the side window, Alaina drew his jacket up to her chin and burrowed further under it as if seeking shelter. He thought she was going to avoid the question again, and he was prepared to let her. But then she spoke, and her voice was so quiet he had to strain to hear it. "I killed a man once. It was an experience I don't ever want to repeat."
"You defended yourself," he said, unsure why he knew now that there was only one way Keller's hired hand could have ended up dead. He just knew.
She seemed surprised by the conclusion he'd reached, and regret arrowed into him. He wanted to apologize for every harsh thing he'd said to her but had no idea where to start or even what to say. Instead, he said, "You'll learn to live with it eventually."
With her gaze intent on his profile, he focused on the shiny wet asphalt that stretched ahead of the car. "Five years ago -- I was a fed then -- I worked a kidnap case in which a woman took off with her neighbor's toddler. A sad story. She and her husband had lost their three-year-old in a hit-and-run accident. A year later, the husband walked out on her. She just went berserk. Grabbed the neighbor kid off the lawn and ended up in North Carolina before we caught up with her. My partner -- Chuck -- and I cornered her at a beach house she'd holed up in, tried to talk her out while we waited for backup. By then, she was holding the kid and threatening to shoot him if we didn't back off. We were all ready to do it, too. You know, wait for a psychiatrist to show up. But for some reason, she started shooting at us." He paused, taking a moment to draw in a calming breath. "She was waving that gun around, holding that helpless little boy so tight he couldn't breathe. He started to scream, and that just seemed to send her all the way over the edge. First chance I got, I shot her."
Only the hum of the engine and the hiss of tires on rain-drenched pavement filled the car. Alaina was still, and he sensed her attention, sharp and searching. He wondered what she saw, how she felt. And then he wondered at what point what she saw and how she felt had become so important to him.
After what seemed an eternity, he heard her swallow. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "That must have been terrible for you."
Her face was wet, but he couldn't tell whether it was tears or the rain still dripping from her hair. She'd never been more appealing. He moistened his lips. "You do what you have to do," he said. "And then you deal with it."
"How did you deal with it?"
He gave her a sardonic smile. "Quit my job, drank a lot, alienated my friends and family. What did you do?"
"Drove for two days with Jonah to Grand Junction, Colorado, and started over."
His insides did a slow roll. She hadn't had the luxury of falling apart. She'd had a child depending on her for his next meal. No time for wallowing in self-pity. "I don't know how you did it, how you survived," he said.
"You do what you have to do," she said, repeating his own words back to him.
And she had, he thought. She'd run away with her child. She'd made a decent life for them against the odds. She'd killed for him, survived for him. When a normal person would have crumbled, she had persevered. And he sensed she had done it for one reason only. He prayed they wouldn't have to find out what would happen to her if that reason was taken away.
"We'll get Jonah back," he said in a low voice. "I promise."
"You shouldn't do that," she said.
"Do what?"
"Make promises you can't keep."