“Do you think we could get something for breakfast?” she whispered. “Abby will be hungry when she wakes up.”
“Of course.” He walked over to where he’d charged up his phone, then moved the curtain aside to check out the parking lot. Everything looked quiet, just the way he liked it. “Let me know when you’re ready to go. I’m going to make a few calls.”
“All right.”
He took the laptop computer outside and stored it in the trunk of his car. Then he stood with his back against the wall so he could keep an eye on the road. There wasn’t much traffic on the road yet, probably because it was barely six.
Miles called his captain first, but his boss didn’t answer. He left a quick message, then tried Detective Krantz’s number. Her phone went straight to voice mail, too.
Obviously it was too early for anyone to be up working. Which only frustrated him more.
He slipped his phone into his pocket and stared at the motel. Staying another night here wouldn’t be smart. Even though he knew they hadn’t been followed, the break-in at his house bothered him. Why was he suddenly a target, too? For now, it would be best for them to keep moving.
A restaurant serving breakfast that appeared to be family-friendly was located up the road a bit. They’d grab something to eat there, and then decide where to go next. Miles wanted to keep working the case, so he thought about calling his brothers for help in watching over Paige and Abby.
Satisfied to have a plan in place, he went back inside the motel room. Abby was coming out of the bathroom with her pink elephant tucked under her arm.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
The little girl’s eyes brightened and she nodded with enthusiasm.
He glanced at Paige, who shrugged and shook her head. “Abby still doesn’t feel like talking.”
“That’s okay. I’m sure she’ll talk when she’s ready.” At least, he hoped so. “Are you ready to go?”
“Sure,” Paige replied, and took Abby’s hand. He held the door open, doing another sweep of the parking lot to be sure nothing had changed, before letting the door close behind him.
“I’m parked over here.” He led them around the corner to the spot where he’d left his car.
Driving to the restaurant didn’t take long, and since the place was totally empty they were seated immediately at a booth overlooking the parking lot.
He and Paige both ordered coffee. Their waitress filled their mugs, then brought a large glass of milk for Abby. Their breakfasts were served just five minutes later.
Paige took Abby’s hand and bowed her head. “Thank You, Lord, for this food we are about to eat. And thank You for keeping us safe in Your care, Amen.”
“Amen,” he echoed, thinking about how long it had been since he’d prayed. Oh, he always attended church with his family, followed by Sunday brunch at his mother’s house, but generally he went through the motions without thinking about it.
Yet here was Paige, praying as if she truly meant every word. The way he once had, before Dawn had died. Before he’d lost the woman he’d once loved.
An uncomfortable silence stretched between them, made worse by Abby’s muteness. He was glad to see that she was at least eating her French toast drowned in maple syrup and the side of bacon. Thankfully, whatever was keeping her silent wasn’t bad enough to interfere with her appetite.
“Where do we go from here?” Paige asked when she’d finished her meal.
“Another motel would be best.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Couldn’t we stop back at my house to pick up some things? Clothes, toiletries?”
He didn’t want to take her back there, but he understood she needed something more than just the clothes on their backs. He’d stashed a spare pair of sweats for her in his duffel, but he didn’t have anything for a child. “I’ll get you both settled in a motel closer to town and I’ll get one of my brothers to pick up some things for you, okay? You can give me a list.”
Their waitress set their bill on the table, and he took out enough cash to pay the tab and leave a tip. When he glanced up, a movement outside caught his attention.
A black sedan with tinted windows was rolling way too slowly past the restaurant.
The hairs on the back of his neck lifted in alarm. His navy blue car was parked next to a bright yellow Chevy truck, but it wasn’t as if his vehicle was hidden from view.
The black car stopped, then backed up about a foot as if to get a better angle to see the license plate.
Miles didn’t like it. “Come on, we need to go. Now.”
Paige followed his gaze outside, then paled. “What’s wrong? Do you recognize that car?”
“No.” Even as he spoke, two men slid out of the vehicle, wearing black from head to toe, their eyes covered by dark glasses. And he could tell by the bulk beneath their clothes, they both were carrying guns.
“This way, hurry!” He scooped Abby into his arms and tugged Paige’s hand. The waitress gaped at them, as he headed toward the kitchen.
“Hey, you can’t go back there!”
“Call the police,” he said tersely, brushing past the swinging doors to the kitchen. He knew there would be a back door leading outside, and he wanted to get as far away from the armed men as possible.
“Stop! You can’t be back here!” The cook, a large man with a receding hairline protested when Miles wove through the shiny metal tables and shelves.
Miles ignored him but the yelling obviously bothered Abby because she hid her face against his neck. He gave the little girl a brief, reassuring hug, then handed her over to Paige.
“I’m going outside first, you stay back until I tell you it’s clear.”
Paige nodded, her eyes frightened, but calm, as if she were just as determined as he was to get away.
There was a large Dumpster out back, and a few yards ahead were three evergreen trees. Using the Dumpster for cover, he peeked around the edge so he could see.
One of the two men was standing near his car, pointing toward the bullet hole. The other wasn’t in view, and Miles suspected they’d head inside the restaurant any moment.
“We have to move, now! Toward the trees.” Miles urged Paige to go first, so that he could provide cover. “Hurry.”
They made it to the cluster of trees but from there, wide-open fields stretched for what looked like a half mile. A white farmhouse in the distance provided the only possible source of cover.
“See that farmhouse?” he asked. Paige nodded. “We’ll have to make a run for it.”
“But it’s so open,” she protested.
She was right, but there was a small pile of rocks not far from the cluster of trees. Miles thought he could stretch out on the ground behind the rocks and provide cover, shooting at the men to keep them at bay, while Paige and Abby ran to safety.
But he didn’t have a chance to outline his plan because the back door of the restaurant burst open and shots rang out.
With her heart pounding frantically, Paige clutched Abby to her chest, shielding her daughter as best she could as she hid behind the evergreen trees. Miles pushed her behind him, then squatted in front of her and returned fire.
The gunshots were excruciatingly loud,