the moment, you’d think I was some kind of masochistic freak. But I…um…I did something that might…well, I…”
He stopped abruptly. He’d never seen her at such a loss for words. “What?”
“After we met—when you bawled me out for running over your cactus, I called Zeke—the detective who came to my house the other night—and asked him to get me your address.” Her cheeks flushed with color. “I…uh, gave him your license-plate number.”
David’s stomach turned over.
“I know that was wrong. Zeke scolded me, but he…well, he did it, anyway.”
“Why would you do that?”
Sheblushed.
“It was an unforgivable intrusion into your privacy. You intrigued me and I was trying to avoid talking to Crissy—which I ended up doing anyway. Nuts, right? Juvenile. I really am sorry.”
She seemed as repentant as she was embarrassed. “What did Zeke tell you?”
“That you have a very good driving record,” she said brightly, then her gaze shifted to some point over his shoulder. “For the four years that you’ve been in Nevada.”
“And…”
“And there appeared to be some, um…inconsistencies in your past.”
Inconsistencies? Of course there were inconsistencies. The real David Baines, grandson of one of his grandmother’s friends, had died at age eleven. David didn’t know why he’d never forgotten the kid’s name, but when he decided to create a new identity, that was the name that popped into his head. Borrowing the dead boy’s social security number, place and date of birth had proven fairly simple to do.
He couldn’t stifle the curse word that slipped out.
“I’m sorry, David. I acted impulsively and I shouldn’t have. I treasure my privacy, yet didn’t think twice about invading yours. I really can’t apologize enough.”
He could tell she was sorry, but there was something else bothering her, too. “What else?”
She swallowed. “I don’t know if the two things are connected. There’s probably no reason they should be, but we don’t get much crime in our neighborhood, so when my roommate said she saw somebody poking around your truck last week, I got this uneasy feeling in my stomach.” She tried to smile. “Quantum leap, right? But, I mean, who would rob your truck?”
Theyboth turned to look at the vehicle in question. Primer paint and dents too numerous to count. The beat-up Chevy wouldn’t have interested the most desperate of junkies.
“Lydia just mentioned the black car this morning. I don’t know if the two things are connected, but like I said, I got a very bad feeling about this when she told me.”
His instincts told him to run like hell, but he’d learned from the pros. An ill-planned escape was worthless. He remembered one federal agent telling him, “A tracker can read the clues left behind and make it to your next destination before you even decide where you’re going.” He had to cover his tracks, and to do that right, he needed money. Which meant he had to deliver these plants and collect his fee.
“Probably just an addict looking for something to steal.”
“Maybe.” She didn’t appear convinced.
To distract her, he said, “Okay. You can help me load the truck. The sooner I get this order filled, the better.” The sooner I can disappear.
She lit up with a relieved smile. “Great. I’d be happy to, but could I use your bathroom, first?”
He’d never taken anyone inside his house. Maybe this would be a good test. If Ray’s goons had found him, they’d be inside his house soon enough. Were there clues he’d overlooked? “My house is kinda hot,” he said, leading the way. “The window unit is in the bedroom and it barely works.”
“No problem. I’ll be as fast as I can, then I’ll help you load your plants.”
D AVID HADN’T LIED about his overly warm home, Liz thought a few minutes later. The windows and shades were closed and a ceiling fan was roaring overhead, but the heat—like the tension between
He stopped abruptly. He’d never seen her at such a loss for words. “What?”
“After we met—when you bawled me out for running over your cactus, I called Zeke—the detective who came to my house the other night—and asked him to get me your address.” Her cheeks flushed with color. “I…uh, gave him your license-plate number.”
David’s stomach turned over.
“I know that was wrong. Zeke scolded me, but he…well, he did it, anyway.”
“Why would you do that?”
Sheblushed.
“It was an unforgivable intrusion into your privacy. You intrigued me and I was trying to avoid talking to Crissy—which I ended up doing anyway. Nuts, right? Juvenile. I really am sorry.”
She seemed as repentant as she was embarrassed. “What did Zeke tell you?”
“That you have a very good driving record,” she said brightly, then her gaze shifted to some point over his shoulder. “For the four years that you’ve been in Nevada.”
“And…”
“And there appeared to be some, um…inconsistencies in your past.”
Inconsistencies? Of course there were inconsistencies. The real David Baines, grandson of one of his grandmother’s friends, had died at age eleven. David didn’t know why he’d never forgotten the kid’s name, but when he decided to create a new identity, that was the name that popped into his head. Borrowing the dead boy’s social security number, place and date of birth had proven fairly simple to do.
He couldn’t stifle the curse word that slipped out.
“I’m sorry, David. I acted impulsively and I shouldn’t have. I treasure my privacy, yet didn’t think twice about invading yours. I really can’t apologize enough.”
He could tell she was sorry, but there was something else bothering her, too. “What else?”
She swallowed. “I don’t know if the two things are connected. There’s probably no reason they should be, but we don’t get much crime in our neighborhood, so when my roommate said she saw somebody poking around your truck last week, I got this uneasy feeling in my stomach.” She tried to smile. “Quantum leap, right? But, I mean, who would rob your truck?”
Theyboth turned to look at the vehicle in question. Primer paint and dents too numerous to count. The beat-up Chevy wouldn’t have interested the most desperate of junkies.
“Lydia just mentioned the black car this morning. I don’t know if the two things are connected, but like I said, I got a very bad feeling about this when she told me.”
His instincts told him to run like hell, but he’d learned from the pros. An ill-planned escape was worthless. He remembered one federal agent telling him, “A tracker can read the clues left behind and make it to your next destination before you even decide where you’re going.” He had to cover his tracks, and to do that right, he needed money. Which meant he had to deliver these plants and collect his fee.
“Probably just an addict looking for something to steal.”
“Maybe.” She didn’t appear convinced.
To distract her, he said, “Okay. You can help me load the truck. The sooner I get this order filled, the better.” The sooner I can disappear.
She lit up with a relieved smile. “Great. I’d be happy to, but could I use your bathroom, first?”
He’d never taken anyone inside his house. Maybe this would be a good test. If Ray’s goons had found him, they’d be inside his house soon enough. Were there clues he’d overlooked? “My house is kinda hot,” he said, leading the way. “The window unit is in the bedroom and it barely works.”
“No problem. I’ll be as fast as I can, then I’ll help you load your plants.”
D AVID HADN’T LIED about his overly warm home, Liz thought a few minutes later. The windows and shades were closed and a ceiling fan was roaring overhead, but the heat—like the tension between
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