Headlights indicated the approach of another vehicle.
She watched from the shadows of the alley, shivering in the cold.
Hope blossomed in her chest as a smooth black limousine pulled to a stop against the curb.
Still, she waited, not willing to expose herself to trouble when there was already one man waiting nearby. He could be there to make another attempt to nab the Halverson woman.
Another SUV pulled in behind the limousine. A second man emerged. The two men standing guard were big, muscular and held themselves with the confidence and bearing of those who’d known military service.
The limousine driver got out of the vehicle and opened the back door.
The same man who’d chased her out of the hotel in the first place emerged from the vehicle and bent to assist the rich widow out, as well. She was followed by the other bodyguard who’d been inside the hotel with her.
They stood for a moment, all looking around.
“I don’t like this. You’re far too exposed out here on the street,” said the bodyguard who’d forced her out of the hotel.
“Gus, we promised we’d come to pick her up,” Mrs. Halverson said. “I keep my promises.” She turned to her other bodyguard. “Declan, have your men look for her.”
The one called Declan nodded. “I will, Charlie, after you get back into the limousine with Arnold.” He nodded to the driver. “If anything happens, I want you to drive. Get Charlie out of here as fast as you can.”
Arnold, the driver, nodded. “I will.” He held the limousine’s back door open. “Mrs. Halverson, please. Let Declan’s Defenders do their job. If the woman is here, they’ll find her.”
The widow frowned. “Fine. I’ll get into the limousine...in a moment.” She turned a full circle, staring into the shadows in all directions. “Young lady, don’t be afraid,” she called out. “I only want to thank you for helping us. Please, let me return the favor.” After a long moment, she sighed and slid into the limousine.
Afraid Charlotte Halverson would leave before she told her who she was, she stepped out of the shadows into the dull yellow glow of a streetlight. “Wait. I’m here.”
If it was a setup to grab her and take her to the police, so be it. With no better options and nowhere to go, she figured it was worth the risk.
Mrs. Halverson started to get back out of the limousine. “Oh, thank God. I was worried you’d been hurt in the fight. Please, get in.” The older woman changed directions and scooted across the seat, making room for her in the limousine.
The man called Gus stepped in between the Halverson woman and her. “Perhaps it would be better if she rode in one of the SUVs.”
“Nonsense, Gus. She’s riding with me,” Charlotte said. “I’ll be safe with you, Declan and Arnold to protect me.” She patted the seat beside her. “Come on. Let us take you where you need to go.”
“I understand your hesitation to trust me.” She stared into Gus’s eyes and raised her arms. “If you want to frisk me, you can. I’m not carrying any kind of concealed weapon.”
Gus snorted. “You don’t need to. Your hands and feet are lethal by themselves.”
She held her wrists together in front of her. “If it will make you feel better, you can bind my wrists and feet to keep Mrs. Halverson safe.” The thought of being held captive made her quiver inside. But she reassured herself that she could escape if she had to.
Gus glanced toward Declan. “Did you bring zip ties?”
Declan nodded. “I did.” He reached into the front of the limousine and pulled out a handful of plastic zip ties.
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” Mrs. Halverson said.
“No, really. I don’t mind,” she said. “They are only doing their jobs and keeping you safe from me. I would expect no less.” Again, she held out her wrists.
Declan slipped a zip tie around them and pulled it snug. “I’m sorry, but we don’t know you, or what you want from Charlie.”
Gus frowned. “Aren’t you going to secure her legs?”
“Absolutely not.” Mrs. Halverson glared at her bodyguards. “This woman is my guest. I won’t have you treating her like a criminal. Now, let her get into the vehicle before I fire all of you.”
Gus frowned heavily before he finally moved out of the way and allowed her to get in beside Mrs. Halverson.
He slid in next to her and Declan sat across from them.
“Make one wrong move,” Gus said, “and I’ll make sure you regret it.”
The woman nodded. “I’m not here to hurt Mrs. Halverson. I only want information.”
Arnold closed the back door, slid into the driver’s seat and pulled in behind the lead SUV.
“Okay, now that you have my undivided attention,” Mrs. Halverson said. “Who are you, and what is it you want from me?”
“That’s just it,” she said, her heart sinking. “I don’t know who I am. I was hoping you could tell me that.”
Gus frowned. “Wait. What? You don’t know who you are?”
The woman shook her head. “No. All I know is what I have tattooed on my wrist.” She held out her hand, palm up.
Charlie gasped and grabbed her wrist. “That’s the Trinity knot.” She shot a glance at Declan. “What are the chances that this is a coincidence?”
“I don’t believe in coincidence,” Declan said, his voice tight, his jaw even tighter. “You don’t know who you are? How did you know to come to Mrs. Halverson?”
The woman nodded toward the tattoo. “The coordinates below the symbol.”
“What coordinates?” Gus stared at the tattoo. “All I see are squiggly lines.”
“They’re numbers in Hebrew,” she said.
Gus wasn’t buying her story. Who tattooed coordinates on her own body? And in Hebrew? Highly unlikely. “How do you know they aren’t a telephone number or someone’s birth date?”
“I had ten days in the hull of a ship to think about it. As you can see, there are two rows of numbers. When I reached the US, I gave the telephone theory a shot. When I called the first one, it played a recording that it was out of service. I got a day care facility on the second one. Given the numbers, I figured they were longitude and latitude. The coordinates pointed to the Halverson Estate in Virginia.” She stared into Charlie’s eyes. “I don’t have any other ideas. If you don’t know who I am, I don’t know where to go from here.”
Charlie studied her for a long time and then shook her head. “I’m sorry, but I don’t recognize you at all.” Her brow furrowed. “But then I wasn’t always privy to all of my late husband’s activities. Perhaps he knew you?”
The woman’s shoulders sagged.
Charlie reached out to her. “I’m sorry. I wish I could help you. It must be very distressful not knowing your own name. In the meantime, we have to call you something.”
“Jane Doe,” Gus said.
“That’s so impersonal,” Charlie protested.
“It’s temporary until we figure out who she is,” Declan said.