On alert, Jodie stepped to the door and switched on the room light. Nothing happened. Brownouts weren’t uncommon in Southern California, but there was no reason for such a thing today. It had been warm, not a heat wave, which usually triggered rolling brownouts.
She went to the window and yanked the screen off.
No alarm. Fear rising, Jodie went back and put her ear to the door. Agent Greto’s room was at the other end of the hall, near the front of the house. She thought she heard a soft thump, but it was faint enough to be her imagination. A few more minutes ticked by. Then she heard a door close softly. A creak of a floorboard, footsteps coming her way.
Jodie backed away from the door and grabbed her backpack. She partially dumped it, digging for her weapon. Her heart stopped when a silver disc fell out, twirling on the floor until it lay flat. An Apple AirTag.
Who put it there?
There was no time to ponder the question. She pulled her gun out as the footsteps stopped at the door. She saw the knob turn and was glad she’d locked it. She slid back toward the window.
“Agent Greto?”
The only answer was a sharp bang as if someone put their shoulder to the door. The solid door jolted but held. Jodie jumped. Another good slam might break the lock. She fired two shots from her own weapon at the door—hoping to slow down whoever was out there—before turning and throwing her backpack out the window, then following.
Not knowing how many attackers she faced or if Greto was in fact an attacker, Jodie believed discretion was the better part of valor, as Sam would say. Confirmation she’d made the right decision came when two more shots were fired her way as she launched herself over the fence into the alley behind the house. She thought she heard a man yell,“We’ll get her!”but she was too intent on fleeing to be sure.
When people ran from the police, the ones who escaped were generally the ones who kept moving and evaded the perimeter. Jodie wanted to evade, so she turned left and sprinted down the alley. Two houses down, there was a narrow walkway between a garage and a fence. She darted into the space, barely fitting, having to turn sideways, soon finding herself on another street. She crossed it. Then jumped into another backyard, praying there were no angry dogs.
Her prayer answered, she crossed the yard as quickly as she could. She opened the back gate and stopped, trying to calm her racing heart, steady her breathing, and listen for any sound of pursuit. After a few minutes, she heard a car motor approaching, driving slowly up the street she’d just crossed.
As quietly as she could, she closed the gate and knelt. Her breathing slowed to normal, and she could think. Gripping her gun in two hands, she waited. The light from the vehicle’s headlights shone in the alley—she could see it through the fence slats.
Jodie pressed her back flat against the side of the garage and held her breath. She’d dumped the tracker, and she prayed it was the only one.
The vehicle slowly rolled past the gate. Unless they’d seen her dart into the yard, she believed she was safe. Still, Jodie didn’t budge until she was certain the vehicle kept moving. Surely the gunshots would bring the police. She doubted the shooter would stay in the area for long. And the police wouldn’t roll into ashots firedcall with sirens blazing if there were no reports of a victim.
Glancing at her watch, she saw it was after midnight. Streetlights still shone, so the power outage at the safe house had been deliberate. She wondered about Agent Greto, but she dared not go back.
Who put the AirTag in her backpack? Who had access while she was at Estella’s? Mike, Estella, Tara, Smiley, Sam, Levi, even Jonah could have seen her backpack where she’d set it on the couch in Estella’s living room.
Her heart hurt. Someone close to her had betrayed her—who?
She stayed kneeling and considered what her next move should be. Her phone had been checked out, so it couldn’t have led anyone to her. Besides, if it had, they would have followed her now and discovered her hiding place.
Who should she call? Mike? Tara? Sam?
The AirTag crushed all her trust. Somehow, the cop helping Collins had placed the tag.
Jodie considered her options. She knew several Huntington Beach officers; many of them played volleyball. She should be able to trust them. But they didn’t have the whole story, the whole background about what she faced. The scenario sometimes sounded crazy to her, so she decided she wanted some backup when she went to talk to the Huntington Beach cops. There was only one person she believed she could trust: Sam Gresham.
CHAPTER41
SAM WAS IN THE MIDDLEof a strange dream. It was one of those where he knew he had to move and move quickly, but he couldn’t, his legs like lead. As hard as he tried, he couldn’t lift his right leg. In the distance he heard a buzzing noise. He struggled to shake the heavy bonds of sleep when he realized his phone was buzzing.
Rubbing his face and blinking eyes still heavy with fatigue, Sam grabbed his phone and sat up on the edge of the bed. “Hello?”
“Sam, it’s Jodie.” She spoke in a whisper and Sam instantly woke up. Something was wrong.
“What’s the matter?”
“He found the safe house.”
“Who? Collins?”
“It had to be. I found an Apple AirTag in my backpack. I ran. I don’t know what happened to the agent. I’m hiding.”
Sam turned the light on and stood, running his hand over his head. “You were tracked.”