Page 13 of Laura's Truth

More logic. He should appreciate that. He listened while she left a message for her friend, managing to smother his jealousy that she had a trustworthy friend. Drew had gone years without anyone like that in his life. Loner was an understatement. The worst part of staying dead and living under the radar was maintaining the necessary distance from people with real lives.

For a few months it had been all right. Manageable. He’d always been more of an introvert anyway. Lately, the closer he got to the sliver of light at the end of this God-forsaken tunnel, the more he found it unbearable. Solitary confinement, without the steel box and bars.

When she ended the call, he resisted the urge to ask her to take the phone apart or throw it out the window.

He glanced at her, caught her biting her lip. “What are you thinking?”

“You should tell me what’s really going on.”

“That wasn’t the deal. Those two were after you, which means I was right and don’t owe you an explanation.” Yet.

“You’re an ass.”

“More like a scapegoat.” He felt like an ass just saying it aloud. “What have you been doing that made you a target?”

“Nothing I can talk about,” she said, rubbing her hands across her thighs.

He laughed at the standard reply and focused on the road, wishing for a serious distraction. “Now do you believe me that you were the one they followed downtown? That you’re the target?”

“They called you by name too.”

She didn’t have to remind him. He noticed the flashing lights of a highway patrol car coming up fast and he accelerated around a lumbering semi tractor-trailer hauling a shipping container.

Talbot sat up straight, glaring at him. “What’s your problem?”

“Didn’t you choose the full coverage insurance option?” He squeezed through a narrow gap in traffic, managed not to clip any other vehicles, and took the exit with more speed than wisdom. If they were lucky, the flashing lights weren’t searching for him.

“You won’t think it’s funny when I send you the bill.”

“Just an FYI,” he replied, rolling through the stop sign at the end of the off ramp, “dead men don’t pay bills.”

She muttered something he was sure he was better off not hearing. “I’ll allow that the team at the airport must have used me somehow, but this has to be about you.”

“Denial never solved anything,” he said, with an easy smile. For all of two minutes, he thought they were in the clear, but then the flashing lights appeared once more. “Damn it.”

“What now?”

“Someone has serious pull.” And he was pretty sure he knew who that someone was.

She twisted around in the seat to look. “Pull over and let me talk us out of this.”

“No, thanks.”

“I’m not going to railroad you.”

He zipped in and out of traffic with ease. “No, thanks.” Where the hell was the next interstate junction when he needed it?

“You asked me to trust you,” she said. “And I did. Now it’s your turn to trust me.”

Drew swore. He didn’t want to deal with reasonable arguments right now. He’d been running for so long and he was too close to his real target to give up now. He kept driving. The lights kept following them. “You researched me before you came to Charleston.”

“Are you suggesting someone hacked the government system, learned I was reviewing your old file, and had me followed?”

Another car with flashing lights joined the first. “It’s a logical conclusion based on what we’re dealing with here.”

“Enough is enough. Pull over. I can explain this is a misunderstanding.”

“I don’t think so. They had eyes on me in the airport and didn’t care.” He checked his mirrors, changed lanes again to make another turn, and began working his way away north and west, away from his real goal. “Those two had orders to deal with you.” He took his eyes off the road long enough to see the frown on her face.

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