Page 62 of One Final Target

“No. I think the less people know, the better.”

“I trust Jonah.” Jodie stared long and hard at Sam. She wasn’t angry, but she wondered if there was something behind his mistrust of Jonah, other than generic cop paranoia.

“I don’t know him. I’m not inclined to trust him. That’s just how I roll.”

Jodie laughed, something she didn’t do often.

Sam smiled. This close, Jodie noticed the scarring on his right ear, along the right jawline, and down his neck, disappearing under his shirt. A wave of sadness gripped her by the throat.Hewill look in the mirror and always be reminded of his loss. Yet he’s moving forward; he’s not stuck there, at the crash.

How do I get there?she wondered.My scars are all inside. I can’t see them but they torment me. Maybe following his example can help me.She remembered Tara’s comment about him.“He’s a superhero.”A little over-the-top, maybe, but true in this case. Sam was also very genuine.

Jodie swallowed the sadness and returned Sam’s smile.

“Since you’re in such a good mood,” he said, “what have you decided about going to George’s?”

“There’s been a change in plans,” she said, then bit her bottom lip.

“What?”

“I guess the Feds came through with a safe house. I’m sure Tara will fill you in.” She saw something cross his features—she wasn’t sure what—but then the cop face was clearly set.

“Oh, well, good. I hope a federal safe house would be just as safe, if not more so than George’s.”

“I don’t want to go,” she said, seeing Sam’s good humor fade. “But it’s probably the best option right now.”

She watched Sam relax.

“True,” he said. “Barring any catastrophes, I hope I can help you relocate.”

“I hope so too. Not sure what the plan is, except we’re leaving later tonight.”

“I’ll pray we find the guy before we have to take you to any safe house. Sound good?”

“Definitely.”

CHAPTER34

SAM MADE IT TO THE LONG BEACH POLICE STATIONwith barely a minute to spare. He shook off the disappointment of not taking Jodie to the mountains. The most important issue was her safety. He kept telling himself her safety was important to everyone, and some of the disappointment eased.

Tara Corson was waiting for him in the lobby. There was such a contrast between Jodie and Corson. Where Jodie was tall and lithe, Corson was short and stocky. With her close-cropped dark hair, she looked as if she meant business—not in a bad way, but in an intense cop way. Under her arm she held a thick file folder.

“We meet again, Sam Gresham,” she said when he arrived. “Good to see you.”

“Likewise.” They shook and he noticed her gaze lingering on his scars.

“Do you need coffee or are you ready to get going?”

“I’m ready to go,” Sam told her.

“Great, follow me.” She led him through the station to the back parking lot, talking as they walked. “We’re serving the paper on Collins’s place of business, Computer Relief. On a tangential note, though it took a lot of time, I contacted the Uber driver who picked Collins up.”

“Get anything useful?”

“Some. He made the pickup Thursday night, not Friday. The driver took him to the train station in Fullerton.”

“Train?” This truly surprised Sam. “He wants us to believe he fled by train?”

“Yep. Interestingly, Collins hacked someone else’s Uber account to book and pay for the ride.”

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