Page 65 of High Velocity

The woman leans forward, studying me through narrowed eyes, and I do my best to look as non-official as possible. It seems to work, because she finally sits back, leaning her head against the chair.

“How much did she tell you?”

I’d like to think I know what she’s referring to but I need to tread carefully.

“About what? Um…we talked about new beginnings. She’d picked up on some problems I had with an ex. We discussed men, both past and present. Mostly my past and her present. I told her about the abusive relationship I left, and she mentioned finally meeting her longtime, online boyfriend for the first time recently. I know he was an ex-con. Did something happen?”

Donna presses the heels of her hands against her forehead.

“I don’t know. She called me a week ago, told me she had to leave, and if anyone asked to tell them she was out of town indefinitely, looking after her sick mother.”

That’s the story Vallard was given, but I’m not supposed to know about it, so I force a look of confusion on my face.

“But…I could’ve sworn she mentioned her mother was dead,” I volunteer.

“She is,” Donna confirms. “Has been for years. When I asked Tracy if she was in trouble, she said she didn’t have time to talk but would get back to me as soon as she could.” The woman’s worried eyes meet mine. “I don’t think she was alone.”

“The boyfriend?” I suggest.

“I’m sure of it,” Donna states, her face now filled with anger. “I told her the guy was a bad idea, but she wouldn’t listen. Now the FBI is coming around asking questions.”

“FBI?” I echo, feigning ignorance.

She nods. “Walked in the other day, asking her whereabouts. I gave the agent the story Tracy wanted me to tell, but I’m afraid I haven’t seen the last of him. What if I’m in trouble now for lying to them? Tracy may be gullible but she’s a good person, who hasn’t had many breaks in life. I’m trying to protect her, but the longer I don’t hear from her, the more I worry I may be making a mistake lying for her.”

When I walk out of the salon forty-five minutes later with a freshly washed and coiffed head of hair, I still don’t know where Tracy could be, but I’m more convinced than ever she didn’t exactly go voluntarily.

Poor Donna. The woman seems truly conflicted, and I feel bad I’m deceiving her. She thinks I’m a battered woman and feels safe talking to me about our supposed mutual friend. She never would’ve confided in me if she knew I was an FBI agent.

At least, I am for now. I’d been tempted to stop in at the office yesterday afternoon when we were in Kalispell, but Jackson suggested I take a bit more time to really think it through before handing in my resignation. That annoyed me at first, but then I realized there really wasn’t any hurry, and it would probably be a good idea to put some plans in place for my next steps before I burn my bridges behind me.

To be honest, I’d been pretty combative with him on several subjects yesterday, and for the most part he was undeserving, but stress and emotions and uncertainty had me lash out at him. The poor guy had an arguably worse week than mine, but he still managed to be a lot more patient and understanding with me than I was with him.

Something I’ll have to make up for when he comes back.

Twenty-One

Stephanie

“Super cute.”

Janey nods her approval at the embroidered cowboy boots I picked up on a whim.

She’d called while I was out shopping and asked if I wanted to come over for dinner at her place. I ended up going straight there after shopping.

I’d hauled all my bags inside and am busy stuffing some of my groceries in her fridge to stay cool, while she ransacks the other bags.

“Consignment. I picked them up for forty-five bucks. I thought that was a pretty good deal.”

Shopping was always a necessary evil to me and I generally avoid it like the plague, but I have to admit, I had fun digging through those two small stores this afternoon. Maybe it’s because it feels like part of this new life I’m creating. I’ve never really given myself a chance to think about what it is I want. I was always more concerned about what was expected.

It’s a new experience for me, and I’m determined not to feel guilty about having fun doing it. Even though I just dropped a quick five hundred dollars in less than two hours, and I haven’t even replaced my laptop and e-reader yet.

“I love this.”

Janey dug through the bag of mainly plain jeans and shirts I picked up, and spied the pretty floral peasant blouse I found. I’m not usually one for frilly clothes, but I thought it might be nice to wear for a dinner date, or something.

“Did you find it at Stytches?” Janey wants to know.

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