“A friend who is really good at protection detail. Her name is Amber Starke... I mean, Goode. She got married a couple of years ago to Lance who’s a deputy in Wrangler’s Corner.”
“And she’s coming here?”
“She’s only about thirty minutes away. I’ll put you two at the motel while I come back and get your prescription and some clothes for you.”
Robin had no strength to argue. She just wanted a shower, then to rest her head on a pillow and shut her eyes. In that order. Before she knew it, they were parked in front of the motel.
“I’ve got us connecting rooms,” Toby said. “Amber will be here in just a few minutes. She’ll stay with you tonight and we’ll figure out what to do in the morning.”
“Okay.” Robin climbed out of the vehicle and winced when she shut the door. Her hands had been bandaged at the hospital, and they stung. When he opened the door to the room, she stepped inside. Two beds, a dresser that held a television, a refrigerator and a microwave. The scent of pine and new carpet hung in the air and Robin was grateful the place was clean. And nice. She went to the bed and sat.
Toby shut the door behind him and set the key on the nightstand. “Are you going to be okay?”
“Someone bombed the lab with me in it and tried to kill me last night,” she said. “And again, today at the hospital.”
He sat opposite her on the other bed. “You remember?”
“No. I just thought saying it out loud would help me process it. Or something.”
“Right.”
“It didn’t work. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?”
“For not remembering.” Tears spilled over her lashes before she could stop them.
He moved to sit beside her and pulled her against his chest and just let her cry. When her sobs quieted to sniffles, he handed her a tissue from the box on the nightstand.
She took it with her bandaged right hand and turned away to mop her face. “Sorry.”
“Stop apologizing. None of this is your fault.”
A knock on the door jerked him to his feet and she squelched a scream. He squeezed her shoulder. “It’s okay. That’s probably Amber. Bad guys don’t knock. Usually.”
She immediately mourned the loss of his arms but quickly focused on the woman now stepping through the open door. “Hi,” Amber said.
Robin offered the pretty dark-haired woman a wan smile. “Hi.”
“Having a rough day, I hear.” Her blue eyes flashed her sympathy.
“You could say that.”
Amber nodded to Toby. “I’ve got this. Go take care of whatever it is you need to do.”
“Thanks.” With one look back at Robin, he slipped out of the room.
Amber engaged the dead bolt, then took the chair near the window. She placed a gun on the table in front of her, and Robin drew in a deep breath. “I’m going to take a shower if that’s all right.”
“Can you manage with your hands?” Amber asked.
“Yes. The cuts aren’t too bad and Toby’s bringing more bandages just in case.”
“Okay. I don’t think he’ll be too long. I’ll knock on the door when he gets back with the clothes.”
“Thanks.”
Toby didn’t plan to be more than thirty minutes. Less, if possible. The store was right across the street from the motel. He parked and noted that while he didn’t see anyone following him, he wasn’t completely convinced he wasn’t being watched.
But how? And by whom? With the hair on the back of his neck spiking, he made his way into the store, grabbing a cart and glancing into the mirror that hung at the entrance.
No one behind him looked suspicious. Two teenagers who could use a haircut, a young couple with a toddler and an elderly couple who held hands.
Bypassing the rows of Christmas decorations and aisles of toys, he headed straight for the toiletries section where he pulled up the list Robin had made for him in his notes app.
And then the man next to him caught his attention. He’d pulled in two spaces down in the parking lot just as Toby had exited his own vehicle. Nothing about him suggested Toby should be alarmed, but just the fact that he was there was enough to make him keep his eyes peeled.
From the corner of his vision, Toby kept the man in his sights while he headed to the women’s clothing section and found three long-sleeved T-shirts. He added them to his cart with a subtle glance over his shoulder. No sign of the man. Next, jeans. He found Robin’s size and added two pairs.
Another glance around.
The guy was back. This time looking at the shirts on the rack behind him. Toby pulled his cell phone from his pocket and activated the camera as though he were going to take a selfie. He turned his back to the man and lifted the phone to an angle that had his shadow behind him.
Trying to be subtle but needing a good picture, he shifted so it wouldn’t look like he was doing exactly what he was doing. He waited until the guy turned slightly, snapped the picture, then held the phone to his ear. “Yeah,” he said to the device. “I can do that. Bye.” Tucking the phone back into his pocket, he shot another look down the aisle. The person was gone.
One by one, he added items to the cart until he had everything, still keeping an eye out for the guy.
In spite of the fact that Christmas was just around the corner, the store was only moderately busy and within another ten minutes, he was checked out.
And looking for his tail.
Not seeing him but wanting his hands free, Toby transferred everything to the overnight bag he’d purchased and pocketed the receipt. With the bag slung over his left shoulder and his right hovering near the weapon in his shoulder holster, he walked out of the store, tension running through every muscle in his back.
He wanted to know who that man was and if he was connected to Robin. And if he was, Toby was going to deal with him.
Robin paced the small motel room while the news played clips of the lab burning in the background. She’d watched it intently, hoping to spark some sort of recognition, but the yawning black hole in her memory never closed. When the reporter continued to say the same thing she’d said five minutes ago, Robin had finally shut the sound off.
Toby hadn’t yet returned with her clothes, so she’d wrapped herself in the snuggly robe she’d been surprised to find hanging on the back of the bathroom door.
Amber looked up from the table in the corner. “You took a hard hit to the head. You should probably be resting.”
“I can’t rest. I need to think, but my thoughts are so jumbled.” Robin pressed a hand to her pounding head.
“You have a concussion. I’m sure that’s part of it.”
“So, after I heal from the concussion, will I remember what happened?”
“I don’t think anyone can tell you that. I suppose time will help. What did the doctor say?”
“That time will help.” She shot her new friend a rueful smile. Then frowned. “Unfortunately, I don’t think I have a lot of time.”
Lights