Page 17 of Fire on the Moon

She winced. “That would say that he was using me. And he was working with them—and then they, um, decided he was a liability. In the interrogation, I heard, someone mentioned ‘the boss.’ Maybe someone else ordered him to get to my father.”

“Yeah. Maybe they found out he was playing them. Maybe he’d said he was going to turn you over to them,”

“Use me as bait?”

He dragged in a breath and let it out. “It’s as likely as anything else.”

“I don’t know why he would do any of those things.”

Zane dragged in a breath and let it out. “Here’s another theory. You were coming down there to see if it was okay to take him to your father. What if you decided you didn’t like him? You could leave without connecting them—and he’d still be able to trace you back home. But with him dead, we can only guess his motivation. And the remark about ‘the boss’ had nothing to do with you.”

“Can a tracker work over hundreds of miles?”

“Probably not.”

“Then what good would it be to find my father.”

“He could see where you were flying to—then go there and start the search again. Did he and your dad part on good terms?”

“I don’t know that either. I was just a little girl. And if he went into witness protection, maybe they didn’t have any way to communicate before he went into hiding.”

Zane nodded, wondering how that fed into the whole picture.

She looked around at the street and the field that stretched away from the curb. “They may not be able to zero in on us anymore, but we can’t stay here. Where are we going?”

“Hopefully, the last place in Naples they would look for us.” He pulled away from the roadside and drove to a discount department store on the outskirts of town. As he swung into a parking spot, she asked, “What are we doing here?”

“We both look like we’ve been crawling around hunting for alligator eggs. We’re going to need to look a little more respectable before our next stop.”

“But I don’t have any money or any credit cards.”

“I told you not to worry about that. Just pick up three or four everyday outfits.”

He was too worried to let her out of his sight for long. Inside the store he followed her through the women’s department as she picked out some nice-looking tee shirts and those cut-off pants he didn’t know the name for. When she’d put together several outfits and added some underwear to the cart, he waited while she changed clothes, then had her follow him to the men’s department where he bought slacks and a couple of tees. He changed quickly, relieved that she was standing by their cart when he came out of the dressing room.

“That suits you,” she said.

“You too. Good choices. Let’s get some toothpaste and a few other things we might need.” He gave her a critical look. “Like a hairbrush. And we can make a stop at the restrooms to wash up.”

She wrinkled her face. “Thanks.” Another thought struck her. “I don’t have a purse. Maybe I’d better pick up a cheap one.”

“Yeah. You’d stand out without one.”

On the way to the drugstore section, he also bought a medium-sized suitcase.

After they’d cleaned up, he paid for their purchases in cash and was watchful as they returned to his car. So far, so good. He wished he could get some different license plates, but that would represent another kind of risk. And the car wasn’t going to be out where the thugs could stumble over it.

“Now what?” she asked.

“The perfect hiding place.”

She gave him a questioning look, but he stayed silent and headed for a strip of highway lined with tall buildings separated by tracts of manicured greenery. He turned in at a driveway that led to a large beige-colored building with towers at the corners.

Before reaching the building, he stopped along the driveway and stowed his gun in the suitcase. This wasn’t the kind of establishment where you came in with a weapon, and if he thought this place was safe, he’d better act like it.

Pulling into the drive again, he headed for the entrance. They passed a three-tiered circular fountain and pulled up under a porte cochere.

As soon as the car stopped, a young man in navy blue Bermudas and a white shirt came running over. “Checking in, sir?”

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