Page 20 of Laura's Truth
“Charleston isn’t safe for you.”
“You either. That’s why we make a plan first.” He hitched his shoulders and gave her a grin. “Give me your foot.”
“What does my foot have to do with a plan?”
“Prop your foot up here on the seat. Let me look at it.”
“It’s fine,” she insisted.
He gave her a hard look, more than a little pleased when she relented. Balling up his windbreaker to cushion her heel, he gently ran his fingers over the soft leather of her shoe. He could feel fluid gathering around the outside of the joint and he caught the telltale wince when he pressed the sore spot. “This is going to slow you down,” he said, returning his hands to the tabletop.
“Too bad for you. Sprain or not, I’m not letting you out of my sight. We stick together.”
“I’m flattered.”
She glared. “The simplest plan is to give me what you have on Hackett. I can be your liaison, help you connect with the right agency so they can handle him.”
“No.” Not negotiable. He’d never hand over the proof he’d worked years to gather. Involving authorities who were obligated to follow laws and rules of conduct gave Hackett too much room to escape and the man had roamed free for far too long. It was bad enough he was stuck with her. “No,” he repeated.
She pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ears. “You’re invested. I get that.”
He snorted. “You could say.”
“But you need help. We need to regroup.”
“My window is closing on my chance to nail Hackett.”
“Are you sure? If you’re right about everyone following me, it seems like there’s plenty of room for you to operate.”
“Spoleto ends Saturday. I need to get things in place before the exchange.” If he missed that, he was back to square one. Worse. Even before today, this particular arrangement had smacked of Hackett’s farewell deal. If Hackett got away, Drew would be left alone and friendless again. While he’d found things to keep him busy and focused during his sudden and unexpected exile, it hadn’t been a picnic.
A volunteer fire truck screamed down the road, taking the exit for the interstate. Drew checked his watch. “It begins.”
“What did you do?”
“I turned your phone on again. I imagine the people after us found the car and took action.”
She covered her ears. “You shouldn’t tell me things like this.”
“What were you working on before Carpenter asked you to check into me?”
“Like I’d toss away my clearance for the sake of your curiosity.”
“Might be faster than me forcing it out of you.” She didn’t flinch or bluster, just stared at him, her soft hazel eyes steady. It made him wonder what she’d seen during her career. A career in any intelligence service was rarely an easy road.
“We should move,” she said, her eyes shifting to the parking lot.
“Already?” He chose to believe she mentioned the potential threat for their combined benefit and not as a gimmick to trap him. “I was about to order fries.”
“What?”
“I haven’t eaten all day.”
She waved a hand at the counter. “Well, by all means. Go do that. I’ll just sit here and hold the table.”
“Because there’s such a big crowd,” he said, sliding out of the booth, knowing she understood his intention. The sensation was unfamiliar. He hadn’t worked with anyone since his earliest days in the CIA.
When he’d been sent out into the field, he’d had reports and check-ins, but soon the closest thing to cooperation boiled down to security force teams acting as an escort through dangerous, unstable areas.