Saving Faith (23 page)

“Maybe a replacement. A substitute.”

“I’ve never seen a UPS man carrying a gun before, have you?”

“So you saw a gun?”

She nodded. “When he came running back down the steps. He had a gun in one hand, and his other hand was bleeding. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Before that I heard Max barking like I’ve never heard him bark before. Then there was a scuffle, could hear it clear as day. Feet stomping, a man yelling, Max’s claws on the wood floor. Then I heard a thud and then I heard poor old Max howl. Then somebody started beating on Lee’s door. The next thing I know, I hear a bunch of feet going up the fire escape. I looked out the window of my kitchen and saw all these men running up the fire escape. It was like I was watching a TV show. I went back to the front door and looked out my peephole. That’s when I saw the UPS man go out the front door. Guess he went around back and joined the others. I’m not sure.”

Connie leaned forward in his chair. “Did these other men have any type of uniforms on?”

Mrs. Carter looked at him strangely. “Well, you of all people should know.”

Reynolds looked at her, confused. “What do you mean?”

But Mrs. Carter hurried on with her story. “When they knocked the back door in, the alarm went off. The police came right off.”

“What happened when the police came?”

“The men were still here. At least some of them were.”

“Did the police arrest them?”

“Of course not. The police took Max away and let them keep searching the place.”

Reynolds exclaimed, “Do you have any idea why the police let them stay?”

“Same reason I let you in the door.”

Reynolds looked in shock at Connie and then back at Carter and said, “You mean—”

“I mean,” Carter broke in testily, “they were the FBI.”

 

CHAPTER 25

“What exactly are we doing here, Lee?” Faith asked. They had taken two other cabs after the one from the airport. The last taxi had dropped them off in what seemed like the middle of nowhere, and they had been walking along back streets now for what seemed like several miles.

Lee glanced at her. “Rule number one when running from the law: Assume they’ll find the cabbie or cabbies who dropped you off. So you never let a cabbie drop you off at your real destination.” He pointed up ahead. “We’re almost there.” As he walked along, Lee put his hands up to his eyes and popped out the contact lenses, returning his eyes to their normal blue. He put the lenses away in a special case in his bag. “Those suckers kill my eyes.”

Faith stared ahead but saw nothing other than rundown homes, cracked sidewalks and sickly-looking trees and lawns. They were traveling parallel to U.S. Route 1 in Virginia, also known as Jefferson Davis Highway after the president of the Confederacy. It was ironic they were here, Faith thought, since Davis himself knew very well about being chased. In fact he had been chased all over the South after the war until the boys in blue had finally caught up with him and Davis had served a long prison term. Faith knew the history, she just didn’t want the same result.

She didn’t ordinarily come to this part of northern Virginia. It was heavily industrialized, speckled with on-the-fringe small businesses, truck and boat repair shops, shady-looking car dealerships working out of rusted trailers, and a flea market housed in a decrepit building one failing support beam from condemnation. She was a little surprised when Lee turned and headed for Jeff Davis. She hurried to stay up with him.

“Shouldn’t we be getting out of town? I mean, according to you, the FBI can do anything. And then there’s the other people you refused to name who are on our track. I’m sure they’re incredibly deadly in their own right. And here we are strolling through the suburbs.” Lee said nothing and she finally grabbed his arm. “Lee, will you please tell me what’s going on?”

He stopped so abruptly she bumped into him. It was like hitting a wall.

Lee glared at her. “Call me stupid, but I just can’t shake the feeling that the more information you have, the more likely you’ll get another harebrained idea in your head that’ll end up getting us both checked into coffins.”

“Look, I’m sorry about the airport. You’re right, it was stupid. But I had my reasons.”

“Your reasons are bullshit. Your whole life is bullshit,” he said angrily, and started walking again.

She hurried up next to him, jerked on his arm and they squared off.

“Okay, if you really feel like that, what do you say we just go our separate ways? Here and now. Each take our chances.”

He put his hands on his hips. “Because of you I can’t go home and I can’t use my credit card. I don’t have my gun, the Feds are right on my butt and I’ve got four bucks in my wallet. Let me just jump right on that offer, lady.”

“You can have half my cash.”

“And where exactly are you going to go?”

“My whole life might be bullshit, and this may shock you, but I
can
take care of myself.”

He shook his head. “We stick together. For a lot of reasons. Number one being when and if the Feds pick us up, I want you right there next to me swearing on your mother’s grave that yours truly is just an innocent babe stuck in the middle of
your
nightmare.”

“Lee!”

“Discussion closed.”

He started walking fast and Faith decided against saying anything else. The truth was she didn’t
want
to go it alone. She jogged up to him as they turned onto Route 1. At the light they hurried across the street.

“I want you to wait here,” Lee said, putting the bags down. “There’s a chance I might get recognized where I’m going, and I don’t want you with me.”

Faith looked around. Behind her was an eight-foot-high chain-link fence with barbed wire on the top. It housed a boat repair facility. Inside the fence a Doberman patrolled the area. Did boats really require that much security? she wondered. Maybe in this area everything did. The business on the next corner was located inside an ugly cinder-block building with big red banners across the windows proclaiming the best deals in town on new and used motorcycles. The parking lot was filled with the two-wheeled machines.

“Do I
have
to stay here by myself?” she said.

Lee pulled out a baseball cap from his bag and put on his sunglasses. “Yes,” he said curtly. “Or was that a ghost back there telling me she can take care of herself?”

With no snappy reply coming to mind, Faith had to content herself with angrily watching as Lee hurried across the street and into the motorcycle shop. As she waited, she suddenly sensed a presence behind her. When she turned, she was staring directly at the large Doberman. It had wandered out of the yard. Apparently the boat yard’s tight security didn’t include closing the damn gate! When the animal showed its teeth and uttered a low, terrifying growl, Faith slowly reached down and gripped the bags. Holding them in front of her, she backed across the street and into the parking lot of the motorcycle shop. The Dobie lost interest in her and went back inside the boat yard.

Faith breathed a sigh of relief and put down the bags. She noted a couple of fleshy teenagers sporting sparse goatees checking out a used Yamaha at the same time they were ogling her. She pulled her baseball cap down farther, turned away and pretended to examine a shiny red Kawasaki that was, surprise, on sale. Across Jeff Davis was a business that leased heavy construction equipment. She looked at a crane that rose a good thirty feet in the air. Dangling from its cable was a small forklift that had a sign painted across it that read, RENT ME. Everywhere she looked was a world she no longer knew much about. She had traveled a much different circuit: capital cities of the world, high political stakes, demanding clients, enormous amounts of power and money, all perpetually shifting like the continental plates. Things got crushed in between these masses all the time, and no one even knew it. She suddenly realized that the
real
world was a two-ton forklift dangling like a guppy on a string. Rent me. Employ people. Build something.

But Danny had given her a shot at redemption. She was a dime a dozen, yet she had been doing some good in the world. For ten years now she had been helping people who desperately needed it. Perhaps also these ten years she’d been atoning for the vicarious guilt she’d felt growing up, watching her father’s shenanigans, however well intentioned, and all the pain they had caused. She had actually been afraid to ever analyze that part of her life too deeply.

Faith heard footsteps behind her and turned around. The man was dressed in jeans, black boots and a sweatshirt with the logo of the motorcycle shop printed across it. He was young, early twenties, big, sleepy eyes, tall, slender and good-looking. And he knew it, she could readily tell, by his cocky manner. His expression clearly evidenced that his interest in Faith was deeper than her choice in two-wheeled transportation.

“Can I help you with anything, ma’am? Anything at all?”

“Just browsing. I’m waiting for my boyfriend.” “Hey, this is a pretty machine over here.” He pointed to a BMW cycle that just reeked, even to Faith’s untrained eye, of money. Wasted money, in her opinion. But then again, wasn’t she the proud owner of a big BMW sedan, which sat in the garage of her very expensive digs in McLean?

He rubbed one hand slowly across the Beemer’s gas tank. “Purrs like a kitten. You take care of beautiful things, they take good care of you. Real good.” A big smile broke across his features as he said this. He looked her over and winked.

Faith wondered if this was his best pickup line.

“I don’t drive them, I just ride on them,” she said casually, and then regretted her choice of words.

He smiled broadly. “Well, that’s the best news I’ve heard all day. In fact, you just made my whole year. Just ride ’em, huh?” The young man laughed and clapped his hands together. “Well, how about we go for a spin, sweet thing? You can check out
my
equipment. Just climb on.”

Her face flushed. “I don’t appreciate your—”

“Now, don’t go getting mad. If you need anything, my name’s Rick.” He held out his card and winked at her again. He added in a low voice, “Home phone’s on the back, babe.”

She looked at the card in his hand with distaste. “Okay, Rick, but I like full disclosure. Are you man enough to take it?”

Rick didn’t look so comfortable now. “I’m man enough for anything, babe.”

“Good to hear. My boyfriend is inside. He’s about your height, but he’s got a real man’s body.”

The hand holding the card dropped to Rick’s side as he scowled at her. Faith easily sensed that his pat lines had been forgotten and his mind was too slow to think of new ones.

Faith eyed him closely. “Yeah, his shoulders are about the size of Nebraska, and did I mention he’s an ex-Navy boxing champ?”

“Is that right?” Rick pocketed his card.

“Don’t take my word for it; he’s right there. Go ahead and ask him.” She pointed behind him.

Rick whirled around and watched as Lee came out of the building carrying two helmets and two one-piece riding suits. A map was stuffed into his front jacket pocket. Even under the bulky clothes he was wearing, Lee’s impressive build was very apparent. He glared suspiciously at Rick.

“Do I know you?” Lee asked him gruffly.

Rick smiled uneasily and then swallowed with difficulty as he looked Lee over. “N-no, sir,” he stammered.

“Then what the hell do you want, kid?”

Faith piped in, “Oh, he was just asking me the sorts of things I liked in my riding equipment, right, Ricky?” She smiled at the young salesman.

“That’s right. Yep. Well, see ya.” Rick practically ran toward the shop.

“Bye-bye, sweet thing,” Faith called after him.

Lee scowled at her. “I told you to wait across the street. Can I not leave you alone for one damn minute?”

“I had an encounter with a Dobie. Retreat seemed the wisest course.”

“Right. What, were you negotiating with the guy to jump me so you can get away?”

“Don’t get crazy on me, Lee.”

“I kind of wished you had. It’d give me an excuse to kick the shit out of somebody. What’d he really want?”

“Junior wanted to sell me something, and it wasn’t a motorcycle. What’s that?” she asked, pointing at what he was carrying.

“Necessary equipment for motorcycle riders this time of year. At sixty miles an hour, there’s a tiny bite in the air.”

“We don’t have a motorcycle.”

“We do now.”

She followed him around back to where an enormous Honda Gold Wing SE road bike sat. With its slick chrome and futuristic design, high-tech equipment and full windshield, the motorcycle looked like something Batman might tool around on. It was painted pearl-gray-green with dark gray-green trim and had a king and queen seat with a padded backrest. The passenger would fit snugly there, like a ball in a glove. It was so big and elaborately equipped that it looked like an open-air recreational vehicle.

Lee stuck a key in the ignition and started putting on his suit. He handed the other outfit to Faith.

“Just where are we going on this thing?”

Lee zipped up his suit. “
We
are going to your little place in North Carolina.”

“All that way on a motorcycle?”

“We can’t rent a car without a credit card and ID. Your car and mine are useless. We can’t take a train, plane or bus. They’ll cover all those places. Unless you can sprout wings, this is it.”

“I’ve never even been on a motorcycle.”

He took off his shades. “You don’t have to drive it. That’s what I’m here for. So what do you say? Want to go for a ride?” He flashed a grin at her.

Faith felt as though a brick had hit her in the head when he said those words. Her skin was afire as she looked at him perched on that machine. And at that exact moment, as though by the will of God, the sun broke through the gloom. A shaft of light came down and ignited those already dazzling blue eyes into flame-filled sapphires. She found she couldn’t move. Lord, she could barely breathe; her knees began to quiver.