Page 50 of Shane
“That wasn’t me, I s-swear. That h-h-horrible woman who did that to those kids isn’t m-m-me. B-but…” She gulped loud enough Shane heard it from the front seat. “Sh-she sure looks just like me, doesn’t sh-she? She’s… she’s awful. God. Who does that?!”
Tears that looked authentic still dripped over her chin and down her neck. “How… how could she? To her own family? To the man she loved? To her children? Her b-babies?!”
Everlee was leaning far enough into Smart to shoot Shane a look of disgust in the rearview mirror. “She’s you, Ms. Smart. Same heart-shaped face. Same long, tinted bleached-blonde hair.” Everlee said that with a shit ton of head swagger. “Hell, look at her fingers. No nail polish, just like yours. Want to run that innocent routine by me again? Because I’m not falling for this stupid act of yours. How would anyone, even your twin if you had one, know enough about you to masquerade as you committing cold-blooded murder?”
Ms. Smart turned both shoulders toward Everlee and screamed, “I’m telling the truth, Agent Yeager! That despicable woman is… Not! Me! Not unless I’m schizophrenic and can’t remember who I am or where I was when this crime happened. But I’m not, and I do. I’m the real Tuesday Smart, darn it. The news said the fire happened in January. Is that true?”
“Of course it’s true,” Everlee snapped.
“Well, for your information, I’ve been out of the country for the last three months on a job for Robert Freiburg. Maybe you’ve heard of him? He’s the millionaire who produced all those documentaries about the catastrophic effect of carbon emissions on the planet. I’ve been too busy shooting footage across the world to watch TV. I was gone January, February, and most of March. I’m a freelance photographer. I can prove it. Every photo I take is date-stamped, and that stamp includes the locations where I was when I took them. Only…” She bit her lip and turned to the window.
Shane had been studying her body language as much as he could without taking his eyes off the road for too long. Ms. Smart’s act was damned convincing. If it were just up to him, he’d believe her. But again, that was what made black widows good at what they did. They suckered stupid men. Like him.
Sucking in a deep breath, her eyes connected with his in the rearview mirror. Ms. Smart looked at him pleadingly. “You have to believe me, Agent Hayes. I did not kill those children or that man. I wouldn’t do such a heinous thing. To anyone! Only I can’t prove it because every picture I took was in my house. All my equipment and photos. My cell phone. And now it’s… it’s gone.”
“How convenient.” Everlee’s continual use of sarcasm was getting old.
Shane nodded, not so sure which woman he was agreeing with. “You were out of the country for three solid months?” Yeah, he caught Everlee’s cocked brow at his question, but he ignored her snark and focused on their prisoner. For the life of him, if Smart was lying, he couldn’t detect any tells or the usual subterfuge, and his gut was screaming for him to believe her. Was she telling the truth?
“Yes, three months.” Her head bobbed. “I spent six weeks in the Serengeti at the end of last year, then mid-January, I flew to the Arctic. I’ve been photo-journaling the effects of climate change on wildlife the world over. My next location is… was Mongolia in May, after that, the southern tip of South America and maybe Antarctica.” She scrubbed her knuckles over her lips. “I can call Robert. He’ll vouch for me. You’ll see. He’s got digital copies of all my photos, I know he does. I always forward copies the same day I shoot the footage. You’ll see. I’m telling the truth. I promise.”
Man, Shane wanted to believe her.
“Let me guess, he’s out of touch at the moment.” Everlee couldn’t seem to stop playing bad cop.
“Yes, he’s in Australia, probably unreachable,” Ms. Smart bit out. “He’s documenting the damage the wildfires did to the outback last year. Because he’s a damned good photographer!”
“Hey, don’t get your panties in a twist—”
“Please, do that, Ms. Smart.” Shane headed off the rest of Everlee’s comeback. “Contact Robert Freiburg as soon as we get you safe. The sooner you prove your innocence, the quicker the FBI will drop their charges. We can help you reach out to your friend if you’d like.” He caught the spiked brow Everlee tossed at him, but Shane focused on Ms. Smart’s startled glance in the rearview.
“You… you will?”
Shane nodded. He could almost hear her heart pounding from the back seat. Maybe it was time to cut her some slack, and, if she were guilty, give her enough rope to hang herself. “Yes, ma’am. We’re not your judge, jury, or executioners. We’re here to help you and the FBI, aren’t we, Agent Yeager?”
If looks could kill. Everlee’s cocked head and death glare told Shane all he needed to know. He’d stepped out of line, and she didn’t approve. Well, too bad, Agent Yeager. Sometimes, stepping out of line was the right thing to do.
Ms. Smart’s cheeks ballooned with relief. “Oh, thank you, thank you so much. I won’t let you down, Agent Hayes, honest. The minute we get somewhere safe, I’ll call Robert, and you can talk with him yourself. Hopefully, we’ll be able to reach him. But will you still turn me over if we can’t? To the FBI, I mean?”
Shane glanced at Everlee for that answer.
“If Alex says yes, you bet your ass we will,” she replied tartly, avoiding Shane’s eyes. “So, get your damned story straight, because once we hit TEAM HQ, you’re not our problem.”
Shane shot a quick look of censure over his shoulder at Everlee. “I need to stop for gas. Anyone need a break, maybe some lunch?” The landscape had changed from Texas arid to Arkansas green, scattered with rolling hills, intermittent rocky ledges, and granite outcroppings. The interstate was smooth, traffic was fairly light, and it’d been hours since breakfast. He was hungry.
“Sure. Pull over,” Ev huffed. “That’ll give me a chance to call Alex.”
Smart said nothing, just stared at Shane in the rearview. Damn, she kept wiping tears out of her eyes.
“How about you, kiddo?” he asked her directly. “There’s a rest stop ahead. I can pull in there or I can aim for the next town. It’s twenty miles away, but it’s fairly large, and we should find a better choice of restaurants there. Better bathroom facilities, too.”
“I don’t really care,” she told him, her teary gaze direct and her tone heartbreakingly quiet. “Just keep me alive long enough to prove I’m innocent. Can you do that?”
“Absolutely,” he promised. “You have my word, Ms. Smart.”
She seemed to be relying on him more than Everlee, and Shane got that. He did. That was how the good cop/bad cop routine worked. The accused related to whichever law officer seemed the weaker or nicer of the two, and Shane was content playing the part. Not that he’d let his guard down, but he would honestly investigate any and all information Ms. Smart provided. She sounded damned credible. Plus he’d get Mother to research that Freiburg fellow.
Shane had to give Ms. Smart credit. Everything out of her mouth so far sounded believable. Was she playing a part, too? If so, if her honesty was just a ruse, a distraction, she was in for a helluva surprise. Because he might know how to act gullible and smitten, but he was no pushover.