Leverage. Janie Crouch
curtains. She wanted to peek out, to open the door and see if the boogeyman was on the porch ready to attack them, but knew she couldn’t.
Was Dylan right? Could someone actually be trying to kill her? They were dealing with DS-13, which Megan assured Shelby was definitely a group to take seriously. Shelby had the codes in her head and knew the numbers were some sort of countdown. But she had no idea what they were counting down to; that’s where Megan’s computer decryption program came in. Shelby and Megan’s computer program had to be in the same room together so Shelby could feed in the data and eliminate what wasn’t necessary. Only Shelby could do that. And once she did, they’d be able to figure out the what and the where the countdown referred to.
Were the numbers in her head worth someone killing her for? She didn’t want to think so, but the aches and bruises from her close encounter with a speeding car—which did look a lot like the one she’d seen earlier today, now that Dylan mentioned it—told her otherwise. So, yeah, maybe someone was trying to kill her.
Yet another reason why she should have just stayed home.
At least Dylan didn’t seem so irritated by her very existence anymore. He wasn’t the sexy, flirty Dylan he’d been a few hours ago, but at least he wasn’t yelling at her. She didn’t necessarily want to go back to his house with him, but neither did she want to stay here with a possible attacker. Uncomfortable was definitely better than dead.
She nodded at Dylan. “Okay, I’ll come with you.”
Dylan tossed the towel down on the bed. “Good. That really is the safest thing.”
“Should I bring my whole suitcase? Everything I brought?”
“If you need everything, I can carry the whole suitcase out. But it would be better if you had just a small bag with a few necessities. Makes us much more mobile getting to my truck.”
“Okay.”
“Plus, if someone does break in here, it makes it look like you’re still around somewhere. It would cause the perp to think maybe he missed you somehow. Buy us more time while he waits for you to come back.”
Shelby shuddered at the thought of someone coming in here, waiting for her. She looked quickly at the front door and the glass door. Two ways someone could get in. Shelby definitely didn’t want to stay here.
“Let me pack a bag.” Shelby grabbed a shirt, a pair of jeans and some underwear, rolling them into a ball with the delicates—did it have to be a red-and-black thong?—on the inside. Shelby grabbed a toothbrush and a comb, thankful she’d never been one for wearing much makeup. The tennis shoes and socks on her feet would be fine.
This should be all she needed. The rest she could buy once she got to Washington, DC.
“I don’t have anything to put this in,” Shelby told Dylan.
“That’s okay. I’ve got a small duffel bag you can use once we get to my house. Just put your comb and toothbrush in your back pocket and ball up your clothes.”
Shelby did as he said. “Are we going to need to run?”
“We will at first, out to the tree line behind the motel. There’s no way around that. We’ve got to get away from the building as quickly as possible. But otherwise, I hope not. Two people sprinting across the street draws a lot more attention than two people just walking fast to get out of the rain.” Dylan looked around the room. “You don’t have a baseball cap or hoodie, do you? Anything with a hood?”
“No.”
Dylan shrugged. “Your red hair is hard to hide without something covering it. Just stay as close to me as you can as we’re crossing the street. If I stop, you stop. Don’t ask questions, just do it.”
Shelby wasn’t planning on asking for justification for everything he did while he was getting them out of here. It would be nice if he would take her for a little bit less of an idiot. “Fine.”
If Dylan noticed Shelby’s annoyance, he didn’t mention it. He walked over to the front door and turned off the lights in the room, plunging it into darkness.
“Let’s give our eyes a chance to adjust. Then we’ll head out.”
Shelby nodded then realized he couldn’t see her. “Okay.”
After a few moments, Shelby’s vision adjusted. Dylan had made his way over to the sliding glass door already and was peering around the curtain.
“Is somebody out there?” Shelby asked after what seemed like a long time.
“Probably not. Whoever wants to hurt you would probably come through the front door. Most motel rooms don’t have doors at the back, just windows that don’t open. Unless he’s familiar with this motel specifically, then he’d think the front door was the best bet.”
“Oh.” Shelby couldn’t think of anything more intelligent to say. How did Dylan, a pilot, know all that? Maybe he sat around and watched too many crime shows on television.
“Are you ready?”
Shelby took a deep breath. “Yes.”
“Okay, Freckles. Remember, stay as close to me as possible and try not to talk.”
Did he just call her Freckles? Shelby didn’t even have time to get offended. Dylan was already out the door. She followed him quickly, clothes tucked under her arm, sliding the door shut on her way out.
Dylan made a dash for the tree line, a hundred feet or so from the hotel. Shelby made sure to keep up with him. Once they were in the cover of the trees, Dylan stopped for a minute.
“Okay?” he asked her.
“Yeah.”
“We’ll make our way along the trees to the side of the motel by the office, then we’ll cut across the street. My truck is parked at the bank.”
They made their way silently along the trees, keeping to the shadows as much as possible. Dylan kept hold of the hand Shelby wasn’t using to carry the clothes, keeping her close to his side. Every once in a while Dylan would stop and peer out. Shelby forced herself not to ask what he saw, if anything.
When they reached the side of the motel, the trees stopped. They’d have to walk out in the open now. Shelby peeked around Dylan’s large shoulders. As far as she could tell, nobody was out. Why would they be? Anyone with any sense was inside, not outside in the wet cold. Shelby shivered.
“Are you ready?” Dylan asked, turning his head back toward her so she could hear him over the rain. “We’ll walk side by side to my truck. I don’t see anybody, but don’t dawdle.”
Shelby nodded and Dylan took her hand and they began to walk through the parking lot and across the street. Compared to the cover of the trees, Shelby felt exposed out in the open. She kept her head tucked down and walked as quickly as possible, but the steps across the street seemed to take forever.
When Dylan slowed down and curved Shelby into the crook of his arm, Shelby glanced up. She knew he wouldn’t choose now to turn this into a lover’s pose unless he had to.
“What?” she asked him.
“A car just turned onto the road up the block. A sedan.”
“The same one?”
“I don’t know, but I don’t want to take any chances. I need to keep you out of sight and away from anything that might associate you with me.” Dylan turned them away from where his truck was parked. “Detour.”
Shelby kept up as Dylan now rushed across the street toward the bank building rather than his vehicle. He didn’t stop until they were standing up against the wall of the bank, the opposite side from where the car was coming. Shelby clutched her balled-up change of clothes to her chest with one arm.
“Okay, we’re going to work our way around to the back side of the building and see what that car is doing.”