Page 33 of Captive Lies

Liam swore under his breath. “We’re so screwed when they match thoseprints.”

“You fixed it right? It won’t link back tous?”

“Our prints have been scrubbed from most databases, but not all. Yours likely won’t find a match.” Liam hammered the steering wheel in frustration. “My fingerprints are a different matter. I’ve been with various government agencies for almost thirty years. There’s bound to be a record of my prints floating somewhere. If their forensic lab is tenacious in finding out who I am, I’ll be in deepshit.”

“We’ll be in deep shit,” I informed him. “I’m not letting you go downalone.”

“Blaire … shit,” Liam cut off when two men crossed the street from the inn into the diner property. One was wearing jeans and an Oxford blazer, while the other was in asuit.

“What—”

“My guess are detectives. Let me do thetalking.”

When the men walked into the parking lot, they made a beeline for us. My heart was in my throat and Liam brought out his gun, but kept it on his rightside.

Suit guy knocked on the window. My friend powered itdown.

“What’s going on over there?” Liam nodded to themotel.

“We’re investigating,” Suit guy replied. “Did you two just come from thediner?”

“Yes.”

“See anything suspicious before the cop cars gothere?”

“Can’t say I did. Just the regular coming and goings past midnight. Besides, I was entertained by my beautiful companionhere.”

Suit guy leaned over and looked at me. I didn’t like his smirk. I would have smacked Liam later if I didn’t know I was adiversion.

“How about you, ma’am? Seeanything?”

I shook myhead.

“Heardanything?”

Again, I shook my head. “The diner was loud.” And thankfully still crowded to support my claim. “I hope everyone is all right.” I gave my best impression of a concerned, sympatheticcitizen.

Suit guy’s face tightened. “If you do remember anything, give us a call.” They gave Liam their cards and said theirgoodbyes.

“We can’t stay here,” Liam said, looking in the rearview mirror. “We’ll figure out another way to get you toGrant.”

“I’m not going back to Grant,” I said. My friend looked at me as if I’d lost my mind. “What if this blows up in our faces? Can you be a hundred percent sure those prints won’t link back to Paulina Antonova? They’ll have my face and I’ll be on a BOLO everywhere forhomicide.”

“Blaire, you’re blowing this out ofproportion.”

“Am I?” I challenged. “Just look at those flashing lights, Liam. I don’t want Grant to see me handcuffed and led to the back of a police car. I can’t do that to him. Just … just get us out ofhere.”

“Listen,sweetheart…”

“Fucking now,Liam!”

“Jesus, all right. Calm down,” Liam grumbled as he turned the engine on. I leaned back in my seat, drained by the roller coaster of emotions I’d gone through in those past two hours. Scared to death that Grant was hurt, hopeful that he wanted me back, fear at nearly getting killed and then, that hope was gone again. I didn’t know where Liam and I would go after that. Grant had all my falsified documents. He wouldn’t be giving them back without answers … answers I wasn’t ready togive.

Liam swore. “Looks like you have no choice now,Blaire.”

In all my self-pitying scramble of thoughts, I noticed we had not moved from the parking lot exit. There was traffic, but not too bad that a driver of Liam’s caliber couldn’t pull away. It was then I noticed a familiar Black Escalade making a turn from the opposite lane intoours.

“Go,now!”

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