The details of downtown Newark were lost on her, but she wasn’t there to sightsee anyway. For the past two years she’d appreciated little of the places she’d traveled. It wasn’t until about six months ago that she’d finally stumbled across a piece of information that was truly useful in her search. There were days she’d lost hope of finding anything. She supposed she had Isaac to thank for the discovery.
Poor Isaac. She felt more than a twinge of guilt for the part she played in his inevitable heartbreak. She shifted in her seat, her mouth tightening at the contempt she’d heard in Tommy’s voice at her deception of Isaac. He didn’t have all the facts. How dare he judge her? She’d broken no law with Isaac but she had used him for information. Her cheeks burned at the private admission. She’d tried to warn him—in her own way. She’d never actually said,
Isaac, don’t fall in love with me because I’m only using you for your connections,
but she had told him that she wasn’t the marrying type. Perhaps she should’ve found another way. Another sigh escaped her and she tightened her grip on her pack. There’d been no other way. But when things were returned to normal she swore to apologize to Isaac, to explain. Just as she would explain to everyone she’d crossed paths with under a false identity. And yes, she knew there were many who deserved a profuse apology at the least.
But that wasn’t today.
Cassi paid the taxi driver and ascended the stairs of the three-story building. It stood sentinel on the street, imposing its shadow and wearing its age like a distinguished gentleman. It was a shame she wasn’t here to admire the architecture.
Perhaps one of these days…
“Thanks for your help,” Thomas said in a low growl. Then added, “If I find you tipped her off in any way, I’ll see that this place is crawling with feds before you can get out of town. If there’s even a hair out of place on your record, I’ll ream you for it.”
The clerk gulped and made a gesture of zipping his lips.
“That’s what I thought.”
Thomas let himself into the room and locked it again behind him. He did a quick search to ensure she wasn’t there and when he was satisfied he was quite alone in the cramped, unattractive, and only marginally clean room, he took a seat and prepared to wait.
“I give you props for ingenuity but demerits for dumping my car and making me file a stolen vehicle report. Nice color, by the way,” he said, referencing her new brunette style. “What? Did you get tired of blond jokes?”
“Who doesn’t get tired of those,” she countered, her mind working so fast her thoughts were beginning to blur. “I thought a change was in order.”
“Especially since your face and physical characteristics were going to be plastered on every precinct wall on the eastern seaboard.”
She offered him a small smile. “Well, there was that. Sorry about the car. I couldn’t very well hang on to it. All government vehicles are equipped with GPS tracking devices,” she managed to retort with a modicum of calm that she certainly didn’t feel. Tommy was pointing a gun at her. And judging by the mean-eyed, cold stare he was giving her…he just might pull the trigger. “How did you find me?” she asked.
“Given your propensity for slipping out of my custody I think I’ll keep that information to myself just in case it happens again.”
She worried her bottom lip as she ran through her own checklist of possibilities. Then, she thought of the name she used to register the room, and when she swore under her breath he knew she’d figured it out.
He smirked. “Amy Anderson. A. A. I always thought it was a little weird that you used your mom’s Alcoholics Anonymous code name as your fake identity when we were kids.”
She glowered. Her mom hadn’t been able to admit she was an alcoholic so she’d invented the fictitious Amy Anderson as the friend she’d visit each week when she’d attend her meetings. It was perverse and it was private. She hated that Tommy remembered such a small detail about her life. She lifted her chin. “Yeah? So?”
He chuckled, but the sound didn’t have anything in common with laughter. He waved the gun at her. “Take a seat. We need to chat.”
Should she run? No. It was now snowing outside. She had no transportation, sparse funds, and he clearly had the upper hand. She cautiously lowered herself to the chair beside the table and took a moment to assess the situation.
“Toss me that key, would you?” It wasn’t a request, it was a demand. She did as he asked. He caught it with a twist of his wrist, the hand holding the gun never wavering from its target. “Now, about that chat,” he began, and she started to tell him that he needn’t bother, but he wasn’t about to let her get a word in. He shushed her with an expletive and a scowl that sent electricity arcing down to her toes. She’d never seen Tommy so angry, so bristling with a dark energy that alternately pulled and repelled. He’d always been the calm one, the guy who could always mellow the storm. Now he was creating one. Her breathing quickened along with her blood. She curled her fingers into fists, digging her nails into her palm to clear her mind. She withheld the wince but the pain served its purpose. “Let’s start from the beginning,” he instructed.
“Why?” she asked, stalling. “You aren’t interested in my side of the story.”
He ignored that and moved on as if she hadn’t spoken. “At first I was pretty sure you were like every other felon, lying to further your own gain, but you were damn desperate to get to that book I suspect you’ve got in your pack. So that made me wonder, what’s in the book that you’re willing to go back to New York to fetch, knowing that would be the first place I’d go looking for you. So, against my better judgment, I started doing a little extra work. I looked into your file. I went deeper.” He paused and she held her breath, not daring to believe. “And I found some irregularities.”
“Such as?” she asked, watching him intently. Was it too much to hope that he’d seen enough to question her guilt? Was it enough to gain an ally? Someone she could trust? The hope alone was cruel. “Perhaps we could trade notes. I’ve found irregularities myself. But maybe you could lower the gun? I have an aversion to guns being pointed at my heart.”
“That depends. I already know I can’t trust you so what assurances do I have that you’re not going to bolt the minute I do?”
“You don’t. You’ve already stated that you can’t trust me and given my track record that’s a fairly accurate assessment. But trust is a leap of faith. So, the question is, do you take that leap or continue to hold on to what you know has happened before?”
“Yes, that is the question,” he agreed softly, his eyes never leaving hers. After a long moment, he blew a short breath and finally lowered the gun. “Fine,” he said, placing the gun with deliberate caution on the nightstand. “But don’t try anything, Cassi. You’ve used up all your credit with me.”
And he meant it. She suppressed a shiver but she put on a show of bravery. “Don’t be so melodramatic, Tommy. Where am I going to go? In case you haven’t noticed, it’s snowing outside and I used public transit to get here.”
“That brings us to a puzzling question…why here? Newark? Did you just pick a place on the map for kicks?”
“Of course not. But to answer that I’d have to assume that you truly care about the truth and what I’m after.”
“And if I do?”
“Then you’d have to believe that I’m innocent.”
“Are you?”
“Yes.”
Mostly.
But no sense in confusing the issue. She was innocent of the most serious crimes and that’s what mattered at the moment. “Are you ready to hear my side?”
“I’m sitting here, aren’t I?”
She made a face. “So grouchy.”
“Pardon me. I tend to get a little less happy when I’m forced to chase a suspect all over creation. You have no idea the ass-reaming I’m going to get over this…not to mention the paperwork.”
“Sorry to complicate your life,” she said, not quite able to keep the sarcasm from her voice. “Try being on the run for the past two years. Imagine the inconvenience of not knowing where you’re going to lay your head at night.”
Silence sat between them and she wished she’d kept that last comment to herself. It made her sound pathetic and vulnerable.
“Cassi…you could’ve called me before it got to this stage,” he said quietly, though the admission seemed to take effort, as if it were pulled out of him.
She looked away, unable to bear the look in his eyes. “No, I couldn’t,” she answered, leaving it at that. She’d tried to find him but they’d lost contact with one another and she’d been too ashamed to call Mama Jo. She’d assumed Tommy had told his foster mother some of the things she’d said when they’d parted ways. Her cheeks burned just to remember the foul things that had come out of her mouth when she’d been too hopped up on coke to care who she hurt. “I didn’t know who I could trust. You, included. I couldn’t take the chance. Looks like I wasn’t wrong. Here you are…ready to bundle me up and deliver me like a Christmas turkey.”
“So you’re the victim here?” he countered, the edge returning to his voice.
“I didn’t say that…exactly. But I’m not the criminal you think I am.”
He shook his head, the small movement saying
I’m tired and don’t want to get involved but I will anyway
and she caught a glimmer of opportunity. Buried deep under layers of time was the affection he’d once felt for her. She sensed it, even if he was trying to smother it under the weight of duty. If she could coax that piece of him to the surface…she might find a way out of this.
“Prove it,” he challenged, his gaze searching hers, as if looking for something to hold on to even if he didn’t want to find it.
She couldn’t trust him, but God, yes, there was a part of her that wanted to lay everything at his feet, to unburden herself of the load she’d been carrying…but she couldn’t. Tommy was an FBI agent, not her friend. However, she could pretend to trust him to get him to loosen up. She offered him a tentative smile. “Just do me one small favor…” He awaited her request, his gaze narrowing as if he were bracing himself. She looked away, allowing her embarrassment to show through as she said, “And there’s no need to point out that you’ve got the upper hand and I’m in no shape to be calling in favors.” He grunted something in agreement and she drew a short breath for strength, for her newest plan was the worst she’d ever put together. She was fairly certain if she managed to pull it off, she was going to hell because it would destroy the one thing she’d always held sacred in her heart. Her eyes met his and held. “Promise me we’ll stay here for the night and you’ll hear me out.”
Tommy stared, as if trying to guess her game. “I’m sure the roads are clear. You talk, I’ll drive.”
“I know I don’t deserve it but I need you to hear me out.
If,
after you’ve heard everything and you still believe taking me to the authorities is the best course of action, I will go without a fight. I promise.
Please,
Tommy.” She implored him as much with her eyes as with her tone as she cautiously approached him. When all he did was stiffen but didn’t reach for his gun, she gathered more courage and knelt between his legs, her hands sliding up his thigh, testing. His muscles tensed under her palms as she looked up at him, uttering the words she never thought she’d say to her best friend under these circumstances. She hoped it worked. “Stay with me tonight.”