Mean Streak
Page 142
“Is this a stolen car?”
“Nope. Bought and paid for, registered in a fake name, and stored in a mini-warehouse for just
such an occasion as this.”
“Why’d you leave it in such an unsavory neighborhood?”
“That’s why. It’s unsavory. Lots of drug dealers in that area. Meth labs, I’d guess. To survive, everybody minds their own business. They see nothing; they report nothing. Main reason, somebody had busted the security camera mounted on the light pole.”
She was no longer shocked by his unique power of observation and knowledge about such things. “They know who you are, Hayes.”
Upon hearing his name, he jerked his head around and looked at her, then pulled the car to the shoulder, braked hard, and left the engine idling. For a panicked moment she feared he was going to force her to get out.
“They’ve already searched your cabin.”
“Then it seems I cleared out just in time.”
“They lifted a fingerprint from it. You were identified by an FBI agent.”
The opal fire in his eyes sparked. “FBI agent?”
“He came straight from New York.”
“Shit! Special Agent Jack Connell.”
“You know him by name?”
“Unfortunately. He’s been on my tail for four fucking years.”
“He wants you in connection with a mass shooting in Virginia. I heard you mention the excitement in Virginia to Norman Floyd.”
He studied her for a moment, then said, “Knowing that, you still came with me tonight, no questions asked?”
Huskily, she replied, “So it seems.”
He continued to look at her through the mingling vapor of their breath. Then he lifted his foot off the brake pedal and steered back onto the road.
Just outside Drakeland’s city limits, he took a state highway and made several turns onto roads that became progressively narrower and more winding. She didn’t inquire where they were going. He obviously had a destination in mind. It turned out to be a mobile home, situated semipermanently on a concrete slab fringed with dead vegetation. It was set back from the road but still in sight of it. They would be warned of anyone approaching.
He kept the headlights on as he got out and went up to the door, opening it with a key and switching on an interior light before coming back for her and turning off the car.
She climbed the three steps and entered the main room of the rectangular structure. It was small, compact, sparsely and inexpensively furnished.
“I hope you weren’t expecting fancy,” he remarked from behind her as he closed the door and slid the bolt. “Heat works, though. You won’t be cold for long.” He reached out and brushed melting snow off the shoulder of her sweater.
She turned her head and looked at his hand where it rested there. “I didn’t even realize until now that I left without my coat.”
“Adrenaline.”
“I suppose.”
His gaze remained steady on hers. “Why didn’t you give me away?”
“You told me not to.”
“I’ve told you not to do a lot of things. You’ve done them anyway.”
“I trusted you.”