Page 3 of Mender

“There it is,” he said as he locked the gate. I turned to see what he nodded toward and stood staring a moment. A small Volkswagen Beetle was parked by the curb. The damn thing even looked cute in the darkness, despite it being hard to see details.

“You’re lending me a car that looks like it’s on a continuing smiling spree?”

Gary chuckled behind me. “No one will be looking for you in that thing.”

I sighed. “You’re right about that.” I gave in. A car was a car.

I said goodbye to Gary and went and got into the little thing, throwing my purse into the passenger seat. While adjusting the driver’s seat, Gary started his truck and drove off. I was about to put the key he’d given me in the ignition when a movement inside the fence surrounding the auto shop caught my attention. What the hell? We’d been the last ones to leave that place, hadn’t we?

I sat still, straining my eyes to see in the darkness. And yes, there was definitely movement among the cars in the yard. Not a cat or any other animal. This was an intruder on two feet. I considered calling Gary a moment but decided against it. I didn’t want to risk anything happening to him. Cursing under my breath, I opened the car door. No light went on in the coupé to reveal my presence, and I sent a silent thanks to Gary for knowing exactly what I needed in a car. I slid out and ended in a crouch on the road then looked around a moment, like I had on the way into the auto shop. No suspicious cars around. No people. Gary’s was placed in a quiet area, not many residential houses, but close enough to town that he’d have enough clients.

I heard nothing out of the ordinary, only traffic further away and the muted soar of the Greenlight River on the other side of the auto shop. I leaned back against the Beetle and zipped up my jacket so my white shirt wouldn’t reveal my presence in the dark. Then I moved around the car and further down the metal fence that surrounded the lot. Gary had locked the gate, but there was another way in. It wasn’t my first time dealing with problems there. I had no idea if I had come over a robbery or something else this time, but Gary was an affiliate and I had to check it out. Just because he wasn’t there at the moment, did not mean something bad couldn’t happen to him at a later time.

I found the opening in the fence that I was looking for. It was well hidden, but unfortunately by the ground, forcing me to roll under it, the metal trying to stop me all the way.

I heard nothing when on the inside, and moved closer to where I had seen the figure, my eyes as adjusted to the dark as they could be by now. There was no light source, either, to help me, or weaken my adjusted eyes. Not a damn sound gave away anything. I moved with silent steps between the cars. There were a couple of trucks and bikes in the mix as well, but nothing that revealed anything. The lack of sound or visual movements did not make me give up, though. I knew better than that. Likely the person, or persons here, where in the middle of something. Or they knew I was there, too. I moved carefully, hiding behind vehicles.

A sound in front of me made me stop abruptly. Someone moved a few feet ahead of me, scuffing along the ground, barely audible because I was so close. I realized I didn’t have my purse with me. The metal lining would have been a helpful comfort now. As it was, I felt around the ground, finding nothing more helpful than a rock and gripping it tight. I moved forward, ready to strike.

A screeching wail met me as I stepped forward. A fat cat protesting sharply at my sneaking up on it. My pulse in my ears I stopped and lowered the rock. Damn cat. Relief hit me at the same time as anger. The real danger forgotten for a split second.

A hand clamped down on my shoulder, forcing me around as the muzzle of a gun found its place under my chin. I was slammed into the truck behind me as a man placed his arm on my chest pinning me back.

I had never seen him before, but the suit told me everything. This had to be the FBI agent assigned to Andrea’s case. Agent Larkin.

“Ms. Evans,” he said, “nice to finally meet you.” The smug smile on his face was visible even in the dark night.

I didn’t have time for niceties, though. I knew I had no time on my side. If this man got me, I would be taken out of town. I had to find Andrea. I noticed two things about the gun to my head. It was not the tranquilizer gun he’d try to take me out with last time, and his finger was not on the trigger, but resting beside it. He didn’t want me dead. That was his mistake.

I opened my mouth as if I was about to say something, distracting him a millisecond, enough for me to raise my hands and slam my fists into his ears.

The gun did not go off as he jerked backward, stumbling to his knees, eyes closed as he grunted in pain. I didn’t stick around to see if he was okay.

I ran for the nearest building which was the office, finding the door closed, my brain in overdrive, forgetting to think. Gary had locked the damn door. I had been standing next to him, watching it. I forced myself to calm down, hearing Agent Larkin moaning in pain where I’d left him. I had a second to think. Get inside, find a weapon, hide. I couldn’t simply attack this guy. Everything I did to him could get me arrested. It would only be an excuse for him.

I moved around the corner, finding a window that wasn’t closed properly. I’d have to have a talk with Gary about security. I scrambled into his office, hoping the agent would think I’d run away.

I landed on the floor as inelegantly as possible, head first, legs up against the wall. I got up and closed the window, moving through the office in the dark, which was thicker in there. I found nothing that would help me and moved into the next room where I’d met Gary mere minutes earlier. I systematically searched the place, calming my breath by sheer will as I worked.

A scraping sound caught my attention, making me stop everything. I listened intently. Was I not alone in the building, either?

It came again, this low but distinct sound.

The realization made me turn toward the front door. Someone was picking the lock. I drew breath hard. Damn, the man did not give up easy. I looked around helplessly. If he used a flashlight he would see me at once. No use hiding by the door. That was the first place I’d look if I was the one coming in. I went toward the desk that sort of functioned as a reception, hiding behind a thin partition next to it that halfway divided the large room.

Hell.No weapon against an angry agent with a gun. He wouldn’t let his guard down now. Not again.

The lock clicked and the door slid open. No flashlight, but the room became, not lighter but grayer, perhaps. A small nuance really, making shapes more visible, but that was all.

I heard him come in, but he said nothing. Walked steadily as I crouched behind the wall, keeping as still as I could, not making a sound. Barely breathing.

The steps came closer, then I could make out a gun, arms, and the agent coming past the wall. He stopped a moment, gun toward the area behind me, and I realized he couldn’t see me. And then the strangest thing. The room, in general, smelled like coffee, metal, and motor oil, but a soft scent–citrusy, earthy–reached my nose.

Familiar.

I looked at the figure again. Unless Agent Larkin had grown six inches in the last couple of minutes, that wasn’t him.

I recognized him. We’d been walking through forests a whole day, cleaning up and changing clothes at Mrs. Williams, and yet that fragrance had been on him that night in the safe house.

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