“Harry,” the voice said, reminding him it knew his name. “Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Then wait for my call tomorrow, ten in the morning.”
With a click, the line went dead, leaving only a hum. Slowly he turned off his own phone, removed the battery and turned back to the bomb. In some odd way the call had calmed him. He felt better now.
He went back to building his bomb.
Erin Sanders opened her eyes. The flashing lights reflected from her rearview mirror straight into them. A cop was pulling up behind her in a tan SUV. She sighed, kissing off the hope of a brief nap, wondering why he was stopping. She’d pulled off the highway onto a dirt turnout just to take a little rest. Road hypnosis had begun to get to her, as well as fatigue, hardly surprising since she was still healing.
The day was bright and sunny, and being parked on the side of the road was hardly suspicious. As far as she could see, for miles around there wasn’t another soul. Drying summer grasses, punctuated by brush, fences and mountains. Practically the middle of nowhere.
Then again, her job had taught her to be suspicious of even the apparently ordinary, like a cop pulling up behind her on a nearly deserted highway. In the fifteen minutes she’d been parked here, she’d watched several trucks tear by at top speed, and a few pickups and cars. Now there was nothing in sight except the vehicle pulling up behind her.
Instinctively she slipped her hand into her suit jacket and gripped the butt of her service pistol, thumb on the safety. A few minutes passed and she knew what he was doing: checking her out-of-state plates. At last she saw the door open and its occupant climb out. Watching in her side-view mirror she took in the khaki uniform, the tan cowboy hat, the gun belt. As he walked closer, she noted that he was tall and strongly built. He had an easy stride, a comfortable bearing. Okay, he wasn’t looking for trouble.
She waited, not yet ready to remove her hand from her pistol. It was too soon to trust anyone, most especially someone in a uniform. The guy who had nearly killed her had been wearing a police uniform.
He reached the side of her car and bent down, giving her a full view of his rugged face. Late thirties, maybe? Sun and wind had taken a bit of toll. He looked at her from aquamarine eyes that reminded her of the waters around the Florida Keys. The punch of instant attraction she felt was unwelcome and unwanted.
“You okay, ma’am?” he asked through the three-inch opening she’d left in her window. His voice was pleasantly deep.
“Fine, just resting,” she answered.
“Lonely place for a break,” he remarked.
“Better than running off the road because I’m tired.”
One corner of his mouth lifted. “True. You wanna tell me what you’re holding under your jacket?”
Smart, too, she thought. And a stupid rookie mistake on her part to telegraph that she was holding something. Another sigh escaped her as she realized he wasn’t just going to walk away. Now she’d have to explain and get out of the car despite the pain and deal with an alert county mountie. She could have stood on her rights, but he also had a court-granted right to protect himself. Time to cooperate.
“Deputy,” she said, “I’m holding my sidearm. If you want to back up, I’ll pull it out where you can see it and show you my ID.”
He scanned her face quickly, nodded once and backed up to the rear of her vehicle. At the same time he released the snap on his own holster and drew his pistol.
He was good, Erin thought sourly. She hoped this didn’t drag on for too long. On the other hand, at this point she was fairly certain he was exactly what he appeared to be. Now it was her turn to reassure him.
She pulled her pistol out of the holster, rolled down the window all the way and placed the pistol on the top of the car, grimacing as her ribs screamed. Dang, she felt naked now. And he was still watching from the back, his gun at the ready.
She pushed the door open, wincing with every movement. Getting away for a while had been a great idea. Sitting still for so long in a car hadn’t been. Every single injury that had brought her to this point protested. Torn muscle and scarred skin cried out. She wondered if she’d be able to stand.
Moving cautiously, as much because of her body as anything, she climbed out, keeping her hands in plain view. Then, facing him, her hands up, she called, “FBI. I’m going to pull my ID out of my pocket, okay?”
“Go for it,” he answered, keeping a bead on her.
She’d stuffed it in the pocket of her jacket. Now she jabbed her aching fingers in and fished it out. It took both her hands to flip it open and show it.
He scanned it, then holstered his pistol and walked up to her. She let him take the badge case and study it.
“Mind if I call this in?”
“Be my guest, as long as I can sit down again.”
Those amazing eyes of his leaped from the case to her face. “What’s wrong?”
“Two weeks out of the hospital. Not everything is up to par.”
“Wanna sit in my car?”
“That’s more moving than I want to do right now, Deputy.” She scanned his name badge. Deputy Conroe. “I’ll just perch here while you check me out.”
She hated it when he took her pistol off the roof of her car and carried it with him. She understood, but hated it anyway. These days she couldn’t stand having the thing out of her sight.
Five minutes passed while she sat with her feet on the dirt and her bottom on the edge of the driver’s seat. Warm, dry prairie winds blew over her, and at last another burst of traffic arrived, sweeping past them and leaving even more heat in its wake. She watched them go by in both directions, hoping they were all feeling better than she was. On their way to exciting destinations. Not just on the run from themselves.
She heard crunching and looked over her left shoulder to see Deputy Conroe coming back. He carried her badge case and her gun, apparently satisfied.
She managed a faint smile as he passed them back to her. “Sorry for the hassle, Agent Sanders.”
“No hassle,” she admitted. “Once you knew I was armed we were going down this road, weren’t we? Some things you have to do.”
He surprised her then by squatting so their faces were nearly level. “You’re not all right. Even I can see it. You want a ride into town? We can pick up your car later.”
She looked into that rugged face and read more than a professional concern. “I honestly don’t know what I’d do in town. I’m just rambling.”
“I heard. So let’s get you and your gear to someplace where you can rest. If you’re worried about your car, I can get it towed before we leave here.”
She wondered what else he’d heard in those five minutes. She had the worst urge to tell him she didn’t need any help, but a glance to the west warned her there wasn’t much time left before the sun sank behind those mountains. Weariness had caught up with her and seemed to be deepening by the minute. What was she going to do? Sleep out here in her car? Messed up though she was, she retained a vestige or two of common sense.
“Thanks,” she said finally.
“Give me your keys. Suitcases in the trunk, right? I’ll help you get into my car, we’ll wait for the tow and then I’ll take you into town. You can sleep if you want.”
For the first time in months, Erin felt peace wash over her, as if the universe had just sent a blessing her way. Maybe there was still some good left after