Page 49 of Shane
Which took Shane back a few years to before he’d lost his mother. She used to hum. Strange that the woman voted most likely to kill again, the gal with the most to lose, seemed happy this morning, not worried. Not rude. Also strange how easily these two women were working together. Everlee could like it or not, but right then, she was getting along with her prisoner. One might even say they treated each other respectfully, like sisters instead of adversaries. They were good together. At least while they made breakfast.
That bacon smelled tempting, the coffee, too. But Shane had a problem. Morning wood. With two women in close proximity. Time to spring into action before anyone noticed the tent stake in his pants. Thank heavens he’d worn jeans to bed. Gathering the pillow against his lap, Shane lifted to his feet and turned his back on the ladies. He dropped the pillow and grabbed his next bit of camouflage, the blanket.
“Breakfast is almost ready,” Everlee announced quietly.
“Thanks. Sure smells good. Save some for me,” he replied as he sauntered as casually as was possible into the bathroom. Sure was different waking up with women in the same room, instead of a bunch of raunchy, smelly men.
After eating quickly and cleaning what little mess they’d made, they dressed and were close to getting back on the road again. Everlee was back in TEAM black as was Shane.
But Ms. Smart had left everything she’d worn the day before in the bathroom garbage can. Her ensemble today included simple Rider jeans and a t-shirt, finished off with white anklets and bright-red Converse tennis shoes. Smoke, for all his taciturn attitude, had texted Everlee earlier that he’d left a bag for Ms. Smart outside the saferoom door. Which made Shane smile. Every military guy or gal knew the value of taking good care of their feet. That Smoke had gone the extra mile to take care of Smart’s feet was just plain nice of the guy. The clothes he’d chosen fit her well.
Smart had grinned when she’d slipped the shoes on. “They’re perfect. I love them. I’m writing that nice man a thank-you note the first chance I get.”
See? She had to be innocent, didn’t she? What black widow would think of sending thank-you notes? A damned smart one, Shane thought soberly, determined to keep her in the alleged-murderer column until this mission was over.
“Whatever,” Everlee growled. “We’re burning daylight, folks. Step on it.”
For some reason Tuesday Smart jump to her feet like an excited little girl on a road trip instead of a woman on her way to prison. “Then let’s go!”
Chapter Seventeen
They were traveling north-by-northeast. Their new ride was a dark-gray Toyota Land Cruiser with heavily tinted windows, courtesy of Alex Stewart. Smoke had outfitted the SUV with a large enough ice chest to carry supplies for a week, everything from prepackaged sandwiches to frosty bottled waters. Individual-sized bags of fruit or vegetable snacks and a good supply of protein bars. The tasty kind, not those damned stick-in-your-throat MREs the military bought.
Shane had the wheel. He’d stored his and Everlee’s new and heavier backpacks in the rear cargo hold with the cooler. Those sturdy packs were now loaded with new weaponry. Both Shane and Everlee now possessed spanking new McMillan bolt-action, TAC-338 sniper rifles, both equipped with Leupold Mark 4 LR/T scopes and retractable Harris bipods. Along with tactical gear, including vests and ammo. He’d contemplated bringing along two pairs of NVGs and at least one sawed-off twelve-gauge shotgun. But in the end, he and Ev could only pack so much. So he’d settled for an additional two Glock pistols for Everlee, two Browning Black Label 1911-380 pistols for him, holsters and extra ammo. Along with a few other incidentals that might come in handy. One never knew what they’d need.
Shane planned on making it all the way through Arkansas, possibly as far as eastern Tennessee by dusk. Again, Everlee sat with Smart in the rear seats, one of her pistols on her thigh. Smart sat directly behind Shane, which put her in his rearview mirror. For an alleged black widow, she didn’t flirt or attempt anything coy, just stared at the scenery flying by.
But damned if she didn’t look content. Happy. At peace. For the life of him, Shane couldn’t reconcile the serious charges against Ms. Smart with the calm demeanor of the woman in the mirror. Either she was a damned good actress, or she was schizophrenic with some serious multiple personalities. Neither of which settled as right in Shane’s gut. It was talking to him, telling him she wasn’t a killer. He just wanted to be sure what it was telling him was right.
They’d no sooner crossed the northeast corner of Texas into Arkansas when Ms. Smart turned to Everlee and said, “I thought we were going to talk last night, Agent Yeager.”
Shane caught the sudden exhaustion in her voice and the lack of excitement in her green eyes, which were almost as deep as evergreen pines. Apparently, the joy of those red shoes had worn off. He hit his blinker and moved into the slow lane. “Last night we needed food and rest more than we needed information,” he answered. “So talk. What do you think is going on?”
“Yeah, Smart. If you didn’t kill Atchison Bremmer, your three-year-old son Toby and your two-month-old daughter Betsy, who did?” Everlee’s snotty sarcasm was no help, but it did serve its purpose. It hit a damned tender nerve with Ms. Smart.
“I don’t even know who those people are!” she yelled at Everlee.
Which surprised Shane. But Everlee deserved the comeback. Didn’t she realize she’d get more flies with honey instead of vinegar?
“And I’d never kill a baby, any baby, especially not mine! All I know for sure is that my face was all over the television screens at DFW airport when I landed in the States last week. The news says I’m a wanted fugitive, that I killed that man and his two kids. That I burned them alive. But there I am, strutting through DFW without a care in the world like a damned idiot! Does that sound like something a murderer would do? For Pete’s sake, people were looking at me like I had two heads! I had no idea what was going on. I had to leave my baggage at DFW just to get a cab home because some guy started following me. He had his cell phone out. He was talking to someone, probably the police. Or maybe he was an undercover cop looking for me. How would I know? Maybe he works for whoever’s framing me, did you ever think of that?”
Ms. Smart shook her head, her cheeks flushed and red. “The second I got to my Aunt’s house, the one I just bought, I called the local TV station and asked what they were doing running all those lies about me. I told them to stop, that they had the wrong woman. That they were slandering me. That I’d sue. But they wanted me to come in for an on-the-spot interview. I told them no, not until they stopped running lies about me, that I didn’t kill anyone. But they don’t care about hearing the truth. They’re nothing more than a pack of pushy, rabid dogs.”
She took a deep breath and flipped a chunk of blonde hair over her shoulder. “Since then, someone’s followed me every time I’ve left my house. Maybe it’s the same guy from the airport. He’s always in a dark suit and dark glasses, and he never gets close enough for me to really get a good look. Both times I’ve seen him, I tried to confront him, but he took off. Then you two came along and ran me down just when I thought I finally had him. He was in that crowd last night. He was there when my house blew up. He might be the one who blew it up, did you ever think of that? That’s why I was dressed like a reporter. I needed to be hidden, to be safe, yet visible enough to be able to watch for him.”
Shane was inclined to agree, but Everlee cut him off with, “You expect us to believe that BS?” She caught Shane’s eyes when he glanced over his shoulder and gave him a chin lift like he had better agree with her. “I downloaded the video of you coming out of your New York apartment.” She shoved her cell phone into Ms. Smart’s face. “Want to tell me how a woman who looks exactly like you, isn’t you?”
Shane kept glancing at Tuesday in the rearview mirror. As the short security clip ran, all color leached out of her face. She blinked. Took a deep breath and blinked again, like she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Which was interesting, considering she was looking at herself running a chain through both handles of her apartment doors, looping it twice, then padlocking it, barring the only exit from the home she’d lived in at least four years. With her husband and kids, for God’s sake. He could hear them screaming, someone banging on the door to get out. Not just someone, but the man she’d vowed to love and honor till death do they part. She had to be guilty. That woman was her, damn it.
Wasn’t she?Damn it, Shane wasn’t so sure anymore. The longer Smart stayed in their company, the more his certainty diminished.
She raised one hand to her mouth and cried, “Turn it off! That’s so, so terrible. Please! Turn it off!” Tears brimmed her eyes and her face was deathly white. Could anyone mimic that shade of pallor?
“Enough, Ev,” Shane admonished.
With a glare at him in the rearview mirror, Everlee shut off the video clip and ended the torture. But damn. Shane hoped he never had to hear those babies’ cries for their mama again.
“That’s… That’s…” Ms. Smart dashed a hand across her face, but there was no hiding the pain in her eyes. Or the tears running down her face. Or her snotty nose. She wiped both hands over her face. And again, Shane felt torn. Was she telling the truth? Sure felt like it.