The Rescue(49)

The minivan’s automatic sliding door had already started to close, giving him no choice but to dive into the floor space between the middle row and the front seats. His total time in between vehicles couldn’t have been more than two seconds, a grocery delivery truck blocking his view of the FBI vehicles behind them. The truck’s sudden appearance clearly hadn’t been a coincidence.

“Do I have to sit back here like a child the entire trip?”

“We need to get out of the greater LA metro area,” said the driver. “Unless you’d like your face picked up by a traffic camera.”

“Fair enough,” said Decker, recognizing her from the near miss at Ares Aviation. “Katie. Right?”

When she didn’t respond, he continued, knowing she’d likely shut him down. “How far are you taking me?”

“Harlow told me you’re on a need-to-know basis.”

“And I suppose she also said I don’t need to know anything?”

“Since I’m feeling generous, all you need to know right now is that I’m going to drive you to Las Vegas and check you into an out-of-the-way, fleabag motel for the night,” she said. “That’ll hopefully be the last we see of each other.”

Decker laughed.

“Having fun back there?”

“No. I promise I’m not,” he said, but he was having a tough time stifling more laughter.

He had a presumably silent four-hour drive ahead of him, followed by an overnight stay in a fleabag motel.

“I was just overwhelmed by your concept of being generous,” he said.

“This isn’t exactly my idea of a funfest, either,” she said.

“I understand,” he said. “Sorry. For some reason that just hit me funny. It’s been a long couple of days.”

The van slowed to a stop at a traffic light. When it accelerated a few moments later, the orange light from the intersection streetlamps momentarily filled the vehicle and he caught the side of her face in the muted glow. A deep scar ran across the length of her right cheek.

He wondered if she was a victim of trafficking like Harlow. It really didn’t make a difference. She was clearly just as committed and competent as Harlow. Another perfect stranger willing to risk everything for him.

“I truly appreciate what you’re doing for me. For Harlow. I’ll leave it at that if you don’t want to talk.”

“I can give you like two minutes every hour,” she said drily.

So she did have a sense of humor.

“How about two for the first hour, then two additional minutes each hour after that? It’s going to be a long ride.”

“Longer with you talking my ear off,” she said.

“I won’t bother you. Promise.”

“We’ll see.”

“When do you think I’ll be able to sit with the grown-ups?”

“Not until we reach Angeles National Forest—about an hour and a half with traffic.”

“Fine,” he said. “Do you have a phone I can use to call Harlow, to pass the time when my two minutes are up?”

“She’s busy at the airport.”

“They’ll grab her if she heads toward the terminals.”

“They won’t touch her, especially when they discover you’re missing.”

“Why doesn’t she just drive them around town for a while, until they decide enough is enough?”

“First: she’s taking the feds away from us. Second: she really has to pick someone up at the airport.”

“Seriously. She’s making an airport run?”

“Yeah. She’s picking up one of our associates from a trip to Minneapolis.”

“Minneapolis,” he repeated dully, something heavy settling in his gut.

“What about it?”

He shook his head to clear it. “My parents live outside Minneapolis. I’m worried about them. They’re targets if—”

“They’re in Canada now.”

“What?”

“One of our teams escorted them over the border to a very secluded property on Lake Superior,” she said. “Your daughter and sister-in-law’s family will join them shortly. It’s a big place.”

“Wait. What? Harlow set this up already?”

“She set the plan in motion as soon as you were transferred to the LA Metropolitan Detention Center.”

Like that, the heaviness in his gut was gone. Harlow was just full of surprises.

“You know where my daughter is?”

He’d wanted to press the issue with Harlow a few minutes ago in the car, but they’d run out of time. He needed to get in touch with Riley. To let her know he was sorry and that none of this was his fault. That he was going to make the people responsible pay with their lives.

“Forget I asked that,” said Decker. “I know you won’t tell me.”

“I don’t know where she’s going, anyway,” said Katie. “The person Harlow will pick up at the airport is the only one that knows the location. We compartmentalize that kind of information. Less risk and exposure to our clients that way. But even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.”

“I’d ditch you in a heartbeat,” said Decker.

“That’s what I figured.”