Pure Dynamite by Lauren Bach

headed from there?"
    "He won't say over the phone. Instructions will be in the car. He'll call again after a short black-out."
    "A what?"
    "Black-out," Lyle repeated. "It's a trick the old man taught us. He won't use the same phone number more than two or three times, then he waits twenty-four hours before activating a new one."
    Which makes him hard to trace, Adam thought. And difficult to get in touch with on short notice. "Somebody must have hellacious connections at the phone company."
    "He only does it..." Lyle's voice dropped, his eyes shifting to Renata, as if worried he'd said too much in front of her.
    Adam was curious about what he left unsaid. He only does it... When? When they have a big job coming up? Adam thought back to his conversation with Stan and the shipment of plastic explosives he was tracking. Did Lyle know about his father's plans?
    Grabbing scissors, Adam cut Renata's restraints. "Finish dressing his wound and get him ready for travel."
    "But—"
    "Now!"
    Moving to the exam table, she disconnected the IV tube and put a med lock over the port. Then she covered it with gauze.
    "Just yank the damn IV thing out," Lyle said.
    She shook her head. "You will need more fluid and antibiotics. And I had a hard enough time getting this one started."
    While she helped Lyle into a scrub suit, Adam grabbed the trashcan and dumped as much as he could inside before pulling the liner out. Destroying every shred of evidence would take too much time. And would ultimately prove moot. However, not making an attempt to disguise their presence seemed too sloppy.
    When he finished, he yanked Renata's cell phone from his pocket. He knew Stan hadn't had time to change it over yet, which was okay. "Does the hospital have a clinic in Fayetteville?"
    Fayetteville was about seventy miles southeast of Durham. She nodded. "But this late, they're closed."
    "Call Fayetteville police. Tell them your name is Nelly Bright and you work for the cleaning service. You just left that clinic and noticed two men who may have matched the mug shots you saw on TV Tell them they were driving a brown Chevrolet Impala, with tag number 020936L. Then complain you're losing your signal."
    "I won't help you create a diversion."
    He pulled his gun. "You will."
    Renata stared at the large handgun. She knew from a gun safety course it was a nine-millimeter. The clip easily held fifteen rounds, maybe more. She also knew from working the ER the gun was deadly even with one bullet. But only if the safety was off.
    Her eyes flared. Did Adam realize the safety was on?
    Did she want to test him?
    "No tricks this time." Adam got the telephone number from directory assistance, then held the phone while she talked his finger over the power button.
    As soon as she said, "My signal is breaking up—" he switched it off.
    "Let's go." He moved toward her, held out a hand.
    Renata hung back. Leaving with them—not knowing if she'd ever return—was too terrifying to contemplate.
    "Can't you just leave me here?"
    Adam wished he could. He didn't want someone else to worry about. But he did need her for Lyle's sake. For now he had to play hard-ass.
    He motioned toward the door. "Grab the box of supplies."
    Keeping his gun on her, Adam helped Lyle outside. Lyle pulled out a cigarette. "I know we're in a hurry. Just let me get two quick puffs."
    "Make it fast." Adam pulled Renata to the rear of the car.
    She resisted. "Are you going to lock me in the trunk?"
    Lyle groaned. "Right! If I need help what are we gonna do? Pull over and pop you out of the trunk? With cops looking for us?"
    Ignoring Lyle, Adam stowed the supplies and slammed the trunk closed. Then he tucked his gun behind him into his pants and caught her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes.
    She flinched, her gaze a mixture of wariness and revulsion. He knew it was more than the horror of being forced to give medical care to someone she loathed. Two escaped convicts were abducting her. Men who'd been in prison,