he’d bought two tickets to New York. The cops would think he and Bailey had sent the car to Baltimore as a decoy and then gotten on the train to New York. That would make sense—her brother was there. He was sure the cops and Agent Rubliczky would make that assumption. If they connected Cade and Bailey to the stolen car at all. He felt reasonably safe to spend a few days at Joey’s camp.
“And how are we going to get around?” she asked as the tow truck disappeared in the distance with a good chunk of his cash.
They were in the middle of nowhere. Next to the station was a garish gift-shop tent with “Final Sale” and “Everything $5” written all over it. He could see the lake glistening in the distance, could smell the water from here. The beach was a short walk away. People lay out on the sand and on boats. The path to the beach was clear; everyone who’d gotten off the train had already made their way down.
“We’ll have ourselves a lovely stroll.” He scanned the main road, which was just a few hundred feet from the station. “Or not,” he said as a police cruiser appeared and took the damn turnoff. If the Land Rover was discovered missing shortly after he’d taken it, if it did have LoJack…. He glanced toward the lake, which was blue and brilliant and inviting. “How about a swim?”
Her eyes went wide as she took a step back from him. “I can’t swim.”
“At all?” Everybody knew how to swim. Who didn’t know how to swim? A woman whose middle name was Trouble, that was who.
Annoyance filled her blue-violet eyes. “I work at a garden center. I don’t need to know how to swim. The biggest body of water I ever see is the indoor lily pond.”
“Take it easy,” he said under his breath, taking stock of their situation.
His bag was slung over his shoulder, covering the gun tucked into his waistband at the small of his back. Bailey carried the canvas bag with the clothes and food. With a little help, they could look like tourists.
Thank God for the obligatory souvenir tent. He grabbed a My Fish Is Bigger Than Yours baseball hat with fake blond hair attached for her and a pair of dorky-looking sunglasses for himself along with two cheap fishing poles. He paid for them, and they headed straight for the path that led to the lake.
They would blend in with the people sunning and fishing on the shore unless the cops came in for a closer look, in which case they’d just have to keep moving.
Another cop car suddenly pulled in. To continue toward the lake would mean passing right by the police officer. But they had already started out on the path. To turn abruptly around would look suspicious.
He stopped, sneaked his arms around Bailey’s slim waist and turned her to him.
She was scared enough not to protest. Blue-violet eyes searched his face. Her mouth was set in a tight line of fear. “They are going to catch us, aren’t they? I don’t know if I should hope for that or keep running from it. I don’t know you—”
“I used to work for the Department of Homeland Security.”
Her eyes widened. “Kind of?”
He bit back a grin. Yeah, kind of. His group, the SDDU, was a top secret commando team used for black ops. The unit’s existence was known only to a select few, even at the highest reaches of government. Their leader, Colonel Wilson, reported directly to the secretary of Homeland Security.
“You’re safe with me. Relax.” He dipped his head as the cop got out of his car. The man was heading toward the train station, toward them. There was only one way he could think of to cover their faces.
“I’m going to kiss you,” he warned.
She looked too petrified to protest. Certainly too petrified to enjoy it. Too bad, because he planned on doing just that. He had stared at her full lips many times since he’d moved in, and had contemplated some serious lip-locking with his shrew of a neighbor. He could be annoyed with her and lust after her at the same time. The male mind was