Justified Means (Book One) (The Agency Files) (33 page)

“Get everything you’ll need and fast,” he called as he carried the first load into the garage. She knew it by the sound of the door bumping hard before it latched. The sensation was an odd one—she knew the quirks of the house already.

They’d been lazy here. Oh, sure, the clothes were kept in the duffel, the dirty ones in a pillow case, but little things like shampoo bottles left on the corner of the tub and hairbrush on the counter—those things were asking for trouble, and now she understood why. At the sound of the door, she called out, “Can I take a few of the books?”

“Sure. Make sure you get
Magic Mountain
and
Great Expectations
.”

“Why those?”

“Money in some of the pages.” Keith’s voice startled her from the doorway to the bathroom. “I’ll take that. Oh, and
Pride and Prejudice
.”

“Bet that’s your favorite.” The joke fell flat and only seemed less interesting with the scowl on his face. “You’re grumpy again.”

“I’m just thinking. Get the books and let’s go.”

Erika did notice a change in him. As she crawled into the very back seat of the van, buckled up, and laid down, she realized what it was. He was calm—almost deadly calm
, but calm. That unnerved her more than anything else.

The van was piled with blankets, food, books, and just about everything else you could want for a long trip. She’d wondered if they were going to run far, but she didn’t know where and she hadn’t yet asked why. That bothered her—deeply. Since when did she allow any guy, regardless of his life-saving abilities and history, to dictate where she went without even asking? It was ludicrous.

“Keith?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know what?”

His grin in the rearview mirror was even more unsettling than his customary scowl. “I don’t know where we’re going. I doubt we’re going anywhere.”

“We’ll just keep moving?”

“Yep.”

“Have I thanked you yet?”

“Don’t, Erika. Remember—”

“Yeah, I know. I’m a victim.” Yes, she knew it, and Erika was quite sick of being reminded of it. “But the fact remains that you still put yourself on the line and I still don’t understand why. Why are we leaving? What did I say or Mark say that—”

“If you haven’t figured it out, I’m not going to tell you on the off chance that we’re wrong. The more you know—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. The more danger I am in. I’m sick of it.”

“I know.” His features reassembled themselves into the grim face she’d grown accustomed to during her stint in “captivity.” Then, as if the light went on, Erika understood.

Disgusted summed up her personal assessment of cluelessness. She felt betrayed by her own intellect. No one had ever called Erika Polowski vain, but she certainly entertained no false modesty either. She knew when a man was interested and either accepted it or rejected him—a simple process of elimination. Nice, interesting men received some measure of encouragement, and all others she simply disregarded with an obviousness that left no doubt of her lack of interest. Simple, but effective.

Keith occupied a category all his own. Had he not been religious, she’d have put him in the “cream of the crop” camp, alongside a very few others. Unfortunately, the religion thing made her very uncomfortable—particularly since Corey was probably correct. Guys like Keith probably didn’t even consider women who weren’t religious too. It only made sense, and she respected them for it. What was the point of having a religion in the first place if it was so easy to toss aside for something else? There were less restrictive hobbies out there.

The guy had probably been chewing himself out for even noticing her. Well, she could be flattered that he did anyway. A glance at the mirror showed only his eyes—focused intently on the rush hour traffic surrounding them. It occurred to her that some of the stern intensity of his eyes showed most in their color. Steel gray, noticeable even as far back as she was, they seemed to reflect harshness and coldness that she otherwise wouldn’t have expected.

“Keith?”

“You ok?”

“I’m good. Um, I think you need to remember something.” She had to choose her words carefully, but he needed to change some of his thinking.

“What’s that?”

“Yeah, I’m a victim here. I didn’t ask for this, and I was taken without my consent. But, Keith, if I hadn’t been, I’d likely be dead. Sorry if it offends you, but I am grateful, and it’s a good thing that I am.”

Irritation washed over him anew as Erika reminded him of her obligation toward him and the Agency. She was right, and he hated it. He hated every bit of it. This oddly placed loyalty drove him to the brink of insanity and back again--repeatedly. Karen was right; he was grouchy.

He had to get a grip. His job required him to protect people. He hadn’t felt as guilty about Mr. Bruner, and Donald was an old guy who probably couldn’t handle the stress as well as someone Erika’s age. Regardless of how distasteful aspects of the job could be, it was imperative that he regain control of his issues and get back to being the professional he’d trained to be. Time to grow up.

He glanced in the rearview mirror and started to tell her to lie back down on the seat, but something in her made him stop. What was the point anyway? Darkness would surround them soon, and there was no reason to make her feel even tenser than she already was. This’d be over as soon as someone found Helen. He had to hang on until then. Just until then.

Erika’s voice interrupted his thoughts. “Keith?”

“Yeah?”

“Why do religious people read the Bible?”

The answer came before he had a chance to consider his words. “Because Christians believe that the Bible is God’s recorded Word for mankind.”

“What does that even mean?” Disbelief flooded her voice.

“It means that we believe that every word in the book was written to tell us what God wants us to know about us, Him, and how to connect to Him.” It sounded even more convoluted than his first explanation, but Keith had never been comfortable explaining his faith. The biggest failure of his Christian walk was, in his opinion anyway, his inability to be ready to explain the “hope within.”

“Ok, so what does
that
mean?”

“Why do you ask?”

Her laughter rang out through the van. “You aren’t very good at convincing people to believe things your way.”

“Well, you’re right. Then again, I don’t do that, so that might explain why.”

“Why not? I thought the point of being religious was to get everyone else to be religious too.”

For the next mile, Keith considered how to respond to her. She was focused on religion, but he needed to find a way to explain that religion was only a small part of what his faith meant to him—all without preaching. Frustration mounted and as he glanced in the mirror, the look on her face told him that she had already started to lose interest.

“Erika, it’s not that simplistic. What you see as ‘religion,’ I see as a relationship. There is religion too, but the point is man’s need for God.”

“Why? Why do we need God?”

He swallowed, his mouth going dry. At last, a new idea came to him. “Have you ever wondered why there is so much evil in the world?”

“Um, who hasn’t? That evil is partly why rational people don’t waste their time with the idea of an all-loving God.” Then, as if she realized what she’d said, Erika added, “I’m sorry, Keith. No offense.”

“None taken. That’s just the point, though. It’s because mankind doesn’t have God filling their hearts that life is the way it is.”

Before she could respond, Keith swerved and slammed on his brakes. His eyes widened and he shouted for her to hold on as a car full of teenagers, careening out of control, slid sideways into the van. It rocked over on two wheels, hesitated, and then dropped to the highway on its side.

Glass shattered, and Keith hung from the shoulder belt. That would hurt when he released it, but he had no choice. “You ok?”

“Yeah. I’m just hanging here, but I’m upside down.”

“I’m coming.”

He released the belt, tried to land on his back instead of his head, and nearly succeeded. Scrambling to the back, he tried to support her as he unhooked the seatbelt. They stumbled through the glass to the driver’s door and he prepared to hoist her out. Just as she flung the door open, he whispered into her ear. “It’s dark enough that you can hide. Find some kind of building, shrub—something—and hide. I’ll find you. I’ll whistle Dixie when I’m looking for you. Go.”

“Ignore me when I call for you. Go!”

When Keith sent her from the scene of the accident, Erika was sure she’d never see him again. Part of her, that self-preservationist part of every human, listened without question. Fleeing seemed not to be an option. However, once hidden by a ditch filled with debris, she had second thoughts. Without Keith, the chances of survival, if they were being hunted, dropped nearly to non-existent. The desire to return grew heavy—nearly overwhelming—but he’d been right each time he’d given her an order. She couldn’t ignore him now.

His voice called to her. “Where are you going? What—what about your stuff! Come back here! You can’t just leave the scene of an accident…”

So that was his angle. Ok, she could work with that. The nearest building was a crumbling barn, but she knew he’d be livid if she went to hide out in such an obvious place. That thought made her smile. She was learning to think like him.

On the chance that anyone watched her, Erika continued toward the barn, hoping to slip out of sight behind it. Her feet tripped over ruts in the field, sending her sprawling over the rough ground, but she didn’t hesitate. Back on her feet, with her stomach scraped and bleeding from contact with sticks in the ground, she continued to stumble across the field until at last, she reached the barn. From there, things looked dire. There simply wasn’t anywhere else to hide.

Several hundred yards away stood a large tree—oak, if her knowledge of trees was remotely accurate. It seemed risky, but the barn was so obvious, she had to try. Although tall grasses grew behind the barn, Erika chose not to try to hide. She’d get there faster if she just hurried. It might be the wrong move, but she was comfortable with it. Trying to hide in the grass, crawling on hands and knees would only cause pain and make her more vulnerable in the end—or so it seemed.

Two garter snakes, obviously placed there by evil forces to draw attention to her as she squealed like a little girl, sent her dancing across the meadow even faster than ever. Wading through the grasses proved to be harder work than she had expected, and Erika arrived at the tree exhausted and drenched in perspiration. The highway was so far away now, that even the lights flashed more like dots than bars. Surely, no one could see her now.

After circling the tree a few times, Erika chose the most comfortable looking branch and began her climb. Near the trunk, several branches up, there seemed to be a fork that’d allow her to rest her back against the tree without having to dangle her legs indefinitely. She just hoped it’d work.

Erika had expected to sit up there for half an hour—an hour at most—but this was ridiculous. It’d been at least two or three, and she desperately needed a restroom. Her brilliant idea of chugging all the liquids she could stuff down her so that Keith would let her out of the van semi-frequently
had backfired—badly. If he didn’t arrive soon, Erika would be forced to climb down the tree.