Page 27 of Laura's Truth
Already, Drew recognized that look in her eye that said she had something more going on behind those enigmatic eyes. “If I get out of the car, you’ll let me back in it, right?”
“As if I’d let you wander the streets and then hog all the glory with a dramatic, heroic take-down.”
“Fair enough.” He smothered the laugh, trying to imagine what those headlines would look like in the papers, across the television networks. But he left his door open while he dealt with Dark Glasses. Drew didn’t want glory or public accolades. He wanted to live quietly without regrets or resentment, without looking over his shoulder while Hackett walked free.
When their prisoner was following orders and marching for the hotel lobby, Drew returned to the car. Laura backed out of the parking space and drove off as if people were removed from trunks as a matter of course every day.
“Too easy,” she muttered as Drew kept an eye out for a tail or more aggressive response.
“Agreed. Let’s head into the city,” he said.
“That doesn’t sound like an effective retreat.”
“There’s no good way to make a move on Hackett today, but I have a clean car stashed downtown that we can pick up.”
“Will you let me drive?”
“Sure,” he said with a shrug. “You know the area better than I do.” His unperturbed and cavalier reply confused her, he could see it in the little furrow between her eyebrows. One more mystery for her to chew on.
She slid him a long look, but did as he asked, her long silence challenging him to talk.
He didn’t. Not yet. She thought she was obligated now, but when she heard how he’d been spending his time, how he’d tracked down Hackett, she’d definitely take action.
He wasn’t ready to let go of the last shred of hope that he could accomplish what he set out to do: bring Hackett to justice and reclaim his freedom.
***
Laura hadn’t expected Drew to hand her the keys when they changed cars. She’d expected him to protest or try and ditch her. Which would’ve been embarrassingly easy considering her throbbing ankle and his possession of her gun. There probably wasn’t room for the revolver in the holster anyway if the ankle was half as swollen as it felt.
She could shift around and drive with her left foot, but that would reveal a weakness to Garner and he’d take advantage. At least she thought he would.
When she turned off of the interstate and used the state roads, aiming north, she thought he’d hassle her. But he didn’t say a word. He’d simply reclined the seat and closed his eyes. He might be faking it, and real or not he was far from a deep sleep, but she appreciated the quiet.
Grateful they weren’t arguing about the situation or how she was changing his plan for revenge, she struggled with the constant distraction he created. As the miles ticked by, she told herself it was professional curiosity. Primarily.
Yeah, professional curiosity accounted for at least ninety percent of her distraction. Maybe more. She glanced at her mysterious passenger. Even quiet, his lean body gave off a lethal vibe. Maybe less.
If she was honest with herself, she’d say eighty-five, no honestly, seventy-five percent professional curiosity. The man redefined sexy—and she spent time with plenty of men day-in and day-out. In the routine of her work, she didn’t meet new, eligible men frequently. So her distraction was admittedly partly personal, though Drew was in no way eligible. He made her question things, piqued her interest. The reasoning behind the massacre had always been a mystery. Now, there was the new wrinkle of how he’d managed to escape while the witnesses and survivors believed he was the root of it.
Rarely had anyone made a fool of her or her work and she felt like he’d done both. True, no one beyond the two of them knew that yet, but it stung her pride.
They needed help. She needed answers, but they needed serious, capable support. Hell, they needed something as basic as a phone and a few secure hours to make some calls. Her stomach clenched at the thought of mercenaries like the driver they’d dumped in the hotel parking lot pawing through her things, hacking into her work, past and present.
It was a relief that her present work was only simulations and training. Hackett wouldn’t find any secrets to exploit there. Still, she knew she should notify her boss that she’d been compromised. An update from her, a full admission about what had prompted her sudden request for personal leave, would go over much better than if he heard it from another source first.
Reluctantly, Laura discarded the idea. Hackett knew too much about her and her prior brush with Garner. Contacting her boss could backfire if, as Drew said, Hackett learned about the call. Giving a traitor more ammunition wasn’t a good idea.
She glanced at Garner again only to realize his eyelids were cracked and he was staring at her with that deep blue gaze. Caught, she quickly jerked her gaze back to the road.
“You’re thinking too loudly,” he said.
“Please. We both know that’s impossible,” she countered, regretting the abrupt end to what had been a nice, if not entirely productive, silence.
He sat up, adjusting the seat as he looked around. “You’re taking me to Carpenter?”
“No.” Her fingertips danced lightly at the top of the steering wheel. “Not yet anyway. I haven’t decided,” she admitted.
“You can’t be thinking of Bragg.”