Forget Me Not: A Novel (Crossroads Crisis Center) by Vicki Hinze Page B

man handing me the keys, but I don’t know him.” She squeezed her eyes shut, then reopened them. “I don’t know. There’s nothing familiar about him, and I don’t feel anything when I see his face. He must have been a stranger.”
    “A rental, maybe?” Lisa suggested.
    The woman shrugged. “No idea.”
    Ben prodded. “But you’re sure it was a Jag?”
    She paused; uncertainty flitted across her face and then faded. “That’s what I recall, Mr. Brandt.” Her gaze darted back and forth, as if she was searching her mind. It stopped suddenly. “Yes, I’m positive it was a Jag.”
    His skin crawled and he broke into a cold sweat. “Um, what color was it? Do you remember that?”
    “It was red.”
    Red. A red Jag
.
    Just like Susan’s …

    “Tell me again why we’re crazy enough to be driving this Jag to pipe bomb a crisis center in broad daylight.” Harry looked over at Edward from the passenger’s seat of the car. “The only person in there was that kid at the front desk.”
    “She isn’t the only one in there. She’s the only one you could see. The whole staff is in.” Edward slammed the gearshift into first, then stomped the gas pedal. The tires screeched, a burning smell filled the car, and finally the tires grabbed on to pavement. Fishtailing, he swerved to avoid hitting Ben Brandt’s SUV, then wrangled control of the high-performance vehicle and took off down Gramercy headed toward Gulf Drive.
    “We want them to see this Jag because it’s our proof we tried to save her.” Edward sent his slow-witted partner a frown. “I’ll explain later, when I have more time.”
    “Well, that’s the first time I’ve bombed a place to save somebody.” Harry harrumphed. “You’re losing it, man.”
    “I’m saving your sorry behind.”
    “Right. Fine. But slow down now, will you?” Harry strapped on his seat belt, clicked the buckle into place. “You drive like a maniac.”
    “I am a maniac.” Harry, fool that he was, had no idea that the woman was inside. Maybe it was better that way. “I’m also alive, and I’d like to stay alive. In case you’ve forgotten, Chessman and his henchmen are opposed to that.”
    “They’ll let us live if we kill her.”
    Edward made a right at the light, then headed east. He could keep driving, right out of town, but Chessman would just send his attack dog, Johnson, after them. “Harry, once in a while I wish you would engage your brain.” Edward tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “She’s going to die. Chessman will see to that. Which leaves us with two choices. One, we stay out of the way and let him. Or, two, we let her know someone else is coming.”
    “Why would we want to let her know he’s coming? She can identify us, Edward.” Harry rubbed at his head. “Sometimes you don’t make a lick of sense.”
    “Sometimes you act as if you don’t have a lick of sense. If she dies, we’re the first people they’re going to suspect. We abducted her, knocked her around, and they’ll have our descriptions. We want her taken out of play but not dead. And if Chessman gets her, we don’t want to go down for her murder.”
    The light dawned on Harry’s face. “Okay, you want her to know someone else is after her—someone besides us so we don’t get blamed. I get it. When Chessman tries to make the hit, she’s ready. He—or his goons—get tagged or reported.”
    Finally
. “Yes, and
them
is officially not us.”
    “That makes sense. But if she reports them after reporting us, Chessman won’t dare go after her himself. He’ll need us to take her out”—Harry grinned—“and that gets us off his priority list.” He went quiet. “But what I don’t get is why we don’t want her dead.”
    “You pick up on things at the most inopportune times, Harry.”
    “You’re not answering my question.”
    “I have my reasons. Let’s leave it at that.”
    Harry frowned. “Let’s don’t.”
    “It’s personal.” Edward checked his