Long Road Home (12 page)

“We’ve got company,” Jules muttered.

He looked in his rearview mirror and swore. Two sets of flashing lights were closing on them.

“Look out!”

He yanked the steering wheel to avoid a truck merging from the on-ramp. He shot around it and dove off the upcoming exit. He needed to get off the highway and fast.

He slowed to turn on a side street and the Hummer rammed them from behind again, spinning the BMW around a hundred and eighty degrees. Never taking his foot off the gas, he righted the wheel and kept going.

“Why aren’t they slowing down, damn it? I took out their front tires.” She leaned out and fired another shot. This time they shot back.

“Get back in here,” he barked, yanking on her jacket.

His side-view mirror exploded. “Son of a bitch!” He fishtailed into another curve and barreled down a side street. No matter what he did, he couldn’t shake the other vehicle. And the cops were right behind them.

“Hold on,” he muttered through his teeth. He slammed on the brakes as the Hummer came up beside them. Jerking the wheel, he executed a perfect J-turn and immediately accelerated in the opposite direction.

Only problem was, the cops were bearing down on them, and unless he rammed them, the only alternative was to stop. A quick glance in the mirror told him the Hummer had split.

“Shit.” He jammed his foot on the brake and came to a complete stop as cop cars converged from every direction. “Don’t do anything stupid,” he warned, not sure what Jules would do when threatened with capture.

She gave him a nasty look and immediately stuck her hands out the window. He did the same, and soon cops were yanking them out of the car.

He was bent over the hood, his hands twisted behind him as two officers cuffed him. He looked up to see Jules slammed on the hood, her face against the metal as her arms were wrenched behind her back. “Watch it,” he snarled. “There’s no need to get rough with her.”

“Shut the hell up,” the cop closest to his ear hissed. “What the hell did you think you were doing? Having it out with an opposing gang?”

“Do I look like a gangbanger?” Manuel growled as he was hauled upright.

He and Jules were read their rights then unceremoniously stuffed into two separate cruisers. He watched the car with her in it glide away. Damn it all to hell. This was not what he needed. Though he doubted he had anything to worry about, he hoped like hell Jules kept in character and did no talking.

When they arrived at the station house, he was fingerprinted and took the prerequisite mug shot. Before they could so much as ask him a question, he insisted on his phone call.

“My phone,” he snarled at the cop who’d manhandled Jules.

The man slapped the phone into Manuel’s hand and stood to the side as Manuel punched in Tony’s number. Please don’t let this be the one time he was standing down.

“I guess this means you didn’t catch your flight,” Tony said wearily as he answered.

“How’d you know?”

“You should be in the air right now. You’re on your phone. So you aren’t.”

“Got it in one,” he muttered. “I need a favor, man. And I need it yesterday.” He quickly outlined what had happened. “I need to get Jules out of here before anyone starts asking questions, and before Sanderson gets wind that we’ve been picked up.”

“Nothing’s ever easy with you.” Tony sounded exasperated.

“Can you get me out of here or not?”

“Give me a few minutes. Hang tight.”

Manuel hung up the phone and handed it back to the policeman. “Take me to my cell, Danno.”

“It’s Officer Williams to you,” the cop ground out.

He glared at the cop on his way by. He usually took a much more tolerant stance toward the local uniforms, but this one had crossed the line. “Like roughing up the women?”

“The woman was firing a weapon out the window of your car,” Williams snarled.

Okay, he had a point, but it still didn’t warrant the mistreatment Jules had undergone. Manuel compressed his lips into a thin line and entered the cell. The door clanged behind him, and he began to time how long it would take Tony to get his ass out of a crack this time.

And then he began to worry about Jules.

Ten minutes later, the cop returned and opened the cell door. “Why didn’t you tell us who you were?”

Manuel raised an eyebrow. “And who am I?” he asked, wondering what story Tony had come up with.

“Damn feds. Arrogant sons of bitches.”

Ahh, so Tony had made him an FBI agent. Just as well. The cops would be only too glad to see him gone. They tended to get territorial when the feds came sniffing around their turf.

He followed Williams to where Jules was being held in a cell block across the precinct. As they approached her cell, he could see her huddled in the far corner. She sat on the floor, her knees hunched to her chest. But when she saw him, she leaped up, all signs of vulnerability gone.

She stalked over to the bars and glared at the cop. Then she turned her attention to Manuel. “We getting out?”

In answer to her question, Williams slid the cell door open. She glided through the opening, and with a satisfied smirk, stepped on the cop’s toe. He grimaced and shot her a glare.

“The lieutenant wants to see you before you leave,” Williams said. His distaste was obvious. He clearly wanted them to be gone immediately.

Manuel put a hand to Jules’s back and led her down the hall after the officer. They walked into a small office, and a fortyish-looking man scowled at them over the rim of his glasses.

“Sit down,” he ordered, taking off his glasses and dropping them on his desk.

Jules complied but Manuel stood, opting to lean against the bookcase that lined the wall. He wasn’t one to give up any advantage.

“What the hell are you doing here?” the lieutenant asked. Manuel glanced at the nameplate toward the front of the desk.

“’Fraid I can’t tell you that, Lieutenant Barnes.”

“Bullshit. You idiots were shooting up my streets.” He glared over at Jules as he spoke.

She stiffened, and Manuel willed her to remain silent.

“I have no idea why they wanted to kill us,” Manuel responded evenly. “But my partner had no desire to see them succeed.”

The lieutenant let out a string of expletives that singed Manuel’s ears. “Get the hell out of here. Get on I-10 and don’t look back. I don’t want to get so much as a hint of you coming back to Houston.”

“We need a ride,” Manuel pointed out, trying not to piss the lieutenant off further.

“And I want my stuff back,” Jules said in a steely voice. “All of it.”

“Ask Williams to give you a ride to impound. As for your stuff, sign for it at the desk,” Barnes said with a grunt.

Manuel and Jules left the lieutenant’s office to see Williams leaning against the wall. “Come on. I haven’t got all day.”

They followed him out to his cruiser and slid into the back. “I think I’ve had enough of back seats for a while,” Jules muttered.

“Let’s just hope the Bondmobile is drivable.”

“You mean it’s not indestructible?”

“Cut the sarcasm.”

“Here you are,” Williams announced, roaring into the impound lot. “Check with McKilheny over there. He’ll get the keys for you.”

No sooner had Manuel and Jules stepped out of the car than Williams peeled away.

“I can feel the love,” Jules drawled.

“Let’s get going.”

A few minutes later, the two of them stood and surveyed the damage done to the Beamer. The back end was pretty much toast, but it should get them where they were going.

Jules slid into the passenger seat and waited as Manny got in on the driver’s side. She was wound as tight as a rubber band at full stretch. All her instincts screamed that something was wrong. And not just the fact someone had tried to make road pizza out of them.

She leaned her head back as Manny drove out of the lot.

“You okay?” Manny asked, glancing over at her.

“Yeah. Just thinking.”

“About?”

She remained silent for a long time. If she confided her suspicions, he’d think she was nuts. She wasn’t sure she
wasn’t
nuts. But nothing was adding up.

“Jules? Care to share?”

“Pull over somewhere,” she said with a sigh. “This might take a while.”

He pulled into a shopping center parking lot and stopped the engine. “What’s bugging you? Besides the fact your former colleagues are trying to kill us.”

“That’s just it. They weren’t from the NFR.”

“Say that again?”

“You heard me.”

“I see, and how did you discern they weren’t NFR? Maybe they don’t like driving Hummers?”

“Cut the sarcasm, Manny. I know what I’m talking about.”

“Well, you see, Jules, my question isn’t whether or not they’re the NFR. My question is how they seem to know where we are no matter where we go. I find the coincidences to be staggering.”

Her shoulder began aching in earnest, and she flexed it, rubbing her back in an attempt to ease the burning. Her memory nagged at her. She knew there was something important she was missing, but she couldn’t put the pieces together.

He was staring expectantly at her, waiting for her to expound on her statement. “It’s simply not something the NFR would do.”

No way could she explain that Northstar would’ve backed off now that she’d agreed to do his bidding. Which left the troubling question of just who was trying to kill her.

“I see. Well, if it’s not the NFR, then who the hell is it? Have more than one group pissed off at you, Jules? Maybe it has something to do with the people you’ve assassinated over the years.”

If he had lashed out and struck her full in the face, she wouldn’t have felt worse. She sucked in her breath and felt the blood drain from her face. “That’s low, Manny.” She opened the car door and got out. She needed the air, and she’d be damned if she spent another minute in the car.

Manny bolted around the car before she could stalk away. He grabbed her shoulders and forced her to look at him. “How do they know where we are?”

Was it possible for him to think any lower of her? “Do you honestly think I’m leading them to us?” she asked in disbelief.

His eyes glittered in anger. “I don’t know what to think. You just said it wasn’t the NFR. Yet whoever it is has the uncanny knack of finding us. They’re one step ahead of us no matter where we go.”

She jerked away from him. “Get in the car and leave, Manny. I don’t need you. I can take care of myself. Everything I’ve done is to keep my family—you—safe.”

“Goddamn it, I’m not going anywhere. I just want you to tell me the truth.”

“The truth? I have no idea what the truth is. All I know is that this isn’t the work of the NFR. Doesn’t fit their M.O.”

Manuel stared at Jules and bit his tongue to hold back his retort. That wasn’t all that didn’t fit their M.O., but he wasn’t about to get into the details of her forced recruitment again. “So who is it, then?”

She shrugged and began rubbing her shoulder again. “I don’t know.”

“Is there something wrong with your shoulder?”

She looked up in surprise. “No, why do you ask?”

He didn’t reply. “We’ve got to figure out how to get to D.C. without attracting any more attention. So far we’ve managed to make enough noise to wake the dead. I swear it’s like they have a tracking device on us, but I’ve checked the car.”

Jules went pale. Her eyes flickered, and she shuddered uncontrollably. He frowned, wondering what private hell she was enduring now.

“That’s it,” she whispered.

“What’s it?”

“A tracking device. I’m so fucking stupid. God.” She spun around and stalked back to the car, shaking her head the entire way. He followed her, perplexed by her bizarre behavior.

She wrenched open her door and began to dig furiously in her bag. With a muttered curse, she threw the bag onto the seat. She turned back to him. “Do you have a knife?”

“What? No knife in that arsenal?”

“This isn’t the time for your attitude,” she snarled. “Do you or do you not have a knife?”

He reached down and rolled up the cuff of his pants. Secured beside his spare pistol was a pocket knife. He pulled it out and handed it to her.

She shoved it back at him. “You’re going to have to do it. I can’t reach.”

“What are you talking about?” He ignored the outstretched knife.

She shoved down the collar of her shirt.

“Nice tattoo,” he remarked, noting the small serpent on her shoulder blade.

She flipped the knife at him, forcing him to catch it. “You’re going to have to cut it open.”

“You want me to do what? Are you insane? I’m sure there are safer ways of getting rid of a tattoo.”

“Not the tattoo,” she said through gritted teeth. “The tracking device implanted in the tattoo.”

Chapter Fourteen

Jules watched the disbelief spread across Manny’s face. She sighed. He was going to want a long, drawn-out explanation, and the truth of the matter was, she didn’t have one. But she knew without a doubt, the haunting memories she’d been experiencing had everything to do with the way they were being found out at every turn.

“You want me to slice open your shoulder? Are you nuts?”

“That point’s debatable,” she replied. “But yes, you’re going to have to dig out the tracking device unless you want the bad guys to keep turning up everywhere we go.”

“You’re crazy. No way I’m cutting you open with a damn pocket knife.”

“Don’t be a wuss, Manny. I’ve suffered a lot worse. You know it’s the only option we have, so just get it over with.”

“I am not slicing you open in a public parking lot,” he growled.

“Then let’s find a place you will. And quickly, if you don’t mind. I’d rather not deal with more attempts on my life today.”

He looked horrified by the notion, but she also saw the realization in his eyes that she was right. Still, his distaste was evident.

“Get in,” he said shortly. Then he strode around to the driver’s side.

Jules slid into the seat and looked over at him. “Should we find another hotel? We’ll have to make it quick if we don’t want to be ambushed.”

“No. I don’t want to box us in. We’ll find an open area. God, I hope you’re right, Jules. I don’t want to be cutting you up for nothing.”