Page 32 of Grave Peril

The food was fine, but Lela wasn’t all that hungry. She cleaned things up while Rip finished his eggs. Then she went to get what she’d need. With her disguise in a bag, she returned to find Rip standing on the terrace, looking out at the water.

Lela stared at the wide V of his shoulders and his shapely ass. It was next to impossible not to stare. She was in so much trouble.

Rip turned around. “Ready to go?”

Lela took her place behind Rip on the motorcycle. “We’ll go up to Pasadena,” he said. “That’s the closest city with the kind of place we need. It’s far enough outside of Houston that we should be all right. And I’ll be with you every second.”

The motorcycle sped over the country road, and Lela tightened her arms around Rip. She leaned her head against his back, glad that he was with her. Holding on to him felt so right. The touch made her insides turn to jelly.

Lela couldn’t allow herself to fall for him. She reminded herself that this was all so temporary.

After reaching the city, Rip drove to the main part of town and located the passport photo place. Once inside, a receptionist greeted them. A guy at a desk looked them over. Lela guessed that he was the photographer.

Rip handled the paperwork while Lela went to the ladies’ room to transform her appearance. With the green lenses and her hair smoothed back, she looked quite different. She studied her image in the mirror. She’d taken care that morning to redesign her face with makeup. Even her own mother wouldn’t immediately recognize her.

The photos didn’t take long. The photographer was a rough-looking guy in his late twenties, with tattoos on his arms. The photos were put on a tiny device Rip provided, then the guy handed it over, along with the print copies. On their way out, the receptionist thanked them for the business.

Outside by the motorcycle, Rip plugged the device into his phone via a short, thin cord. “I’ll transmit these to Travis.”

It only took a few seconds to send the pictures. “I haven’t seen any equipment like that before,” Lela said.

“Nope, you wouldn’t have. It’s one of the toys we use in the security business.”

Lela suspected that not every bodyguard had access to the same stuff that Rip did. But she didn’t ask. She figured that what he’d learned as a SEAL came in handy. That was all that mattered.

*****

Late in the evening, Rip got another call from Travis. The exchange was brief.

“Okay, we’re set.” Rip said, turning back to Lela. “The ID is ready for pickup. But we’ll do it in the morning. I don’t want to lurk around at night; it’s trickier to spot your enemies in the dark.”

Early the next morning, Rip told her to pack up. As he instructed, Lela wore her disguise. “It’s time to move around,” he said. “Your new ID opens up new options. Staying in one place too long can give a false sense of security.”

Rip had his duffel with him, and she had her bag. He left the key to the cottage under a rock in the garden. Then Lela hopped on the bike and they headed up the road.

At Magnolia Park, Rip made his way to the bus station and parked the bike. “It’s stashed in a locker here. I have the combination.” He took her hand. “We’re a couple, remember? Stay close.”

Lela looked around. There were rows of painted metal seating, vending machines, and several open ticket windows.

“Why are we picking it up here?” Lela said.

“It’s a neutral location. I’m sure Travis has a contact in Houston, and arranged to have the ID made then turned over to a courier to deliver here for pickup. Mailing isn’t secure. And it’s best if I don’t meet Travis’ contact. This is a good option,” Rip said. “We’ll retrieve the package from the locker and be on our way.”

Rip seemed more alert than usual. Without being obvious, he took in his surroundings. While he’d had a few days alone with Lela, he’d given her some pointers. It was good to be aware if someone was following. There were signals to watch for, and he’d told her a few of them. Plus observing one’s surroundings was vital. He’d called it situational awareness.

That seemed to be what Rip was doing. Lela held tightly to his hand and tried to maintain a casual attitude. This should be a quick, easy stop, then they’d be on their way.

Rip rounded a corner, entering a room with a wall of lockers. There were lots of people; a few were utilizing lockers, some were milling about, and others were seated, either reading or looking bored.

But Rip didn’t walk directly to the locker. He guided her in the direction of the door. “Stay calm,” he said, “but we’ve been made. Look straight ahead. I don’t want to alert him.”

At an even pace, Rip strode to the door out to the buses. “Damn, the dude saw us.”

Rip exited, then immediately turned the corner of the building and started jogging toward the front. Lela ran beside him. “Let’s hope the guy is checking the buses.”

At the sidewalk, Rip didn’t stop. Lela ran across the street with him, barely missing getting hit by traffic. There was a taco joint, and Rip ducked inside with Lela. “To the back,” he said.

Lela quickly followed him through the kitchen, where he nodded to the workers. “Sorry.” Then he shoved open the back door and took off running. Lela kept up for three blocks. Then he turned a corner and leaned against a building.

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