Page 15 of Just Hide

Cami sprinted at top speed toward the other exit gate, fueled by adrenaline and the crazy possibility that her plan might work.

It might work long enough for Roger to mow her down, at least?

No, she told herself firmly, silencing the scared voice in her head as her Docs pounded over the paving. She was not going to think that way, and she was going to keep a positive mindset. She was almost at the exit now, and she could see the street beyond. Turning, she saw a figure, a tall figure, running along the paving. It was Roger, going left, and Cami felt a burst of triumph.

She had done it. She had anticipated what he’d do and had beaten him to the street. Her plan might work, if she was fast enough, although it might also leave her in a very risky situation.

Forcing her fears aside, she sprinted toward him, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

His head jerked up as he saw her, and his eyes widened. So did hers, Cami had to admit. Running full tilt into the path of a bigger, stronger suspect was terrifying.

“Stop! Police!” she shouted. She wasn’t actually police, and her voice was breathless and embarrassingly squeaky. But to her relief, he did exactly what she'd hoped he would do. He stumbled to a stop, turned, and saw Connor behind him, now gaining with every step.

Then he turned back to Cami, and his eyes narrowed. Now, her heart sped up all over again. Her fears had been correct, she realized. He didn't really regard her as a threat. Connor was the threat. Cami was just someone to be cannoned through, flung aside as he sought to escape.

He narrowed his eyes, braced his shoulders, and began pounding in her direction.

Feeling as if she was facing down a runaway bull, Cami squared her shoulders. She was going to do her damnedest to leap into his path. Even if it meant she got hurt. She was going to stop this guy, for the sake of two women who hadn't deserved to die.

This was going to get messy, and it was going to be painful. She knew that and accepted it as she saw Roger charge toward her.

But before he could reach her, she saw that she'd bought enough time. Connor had caught up and was just yards away. Running in a powerful rhythm, his face was set and taut, and as he put on speed, his hand reached out. He grabbed Roger's leather jacket, and he yanked on it hard.

Roger stumbled, his momentum dragging him back just enough.

And Cami saw the look of panic in his eyes. He knew it was over. Connor had him. Roger wasn't giving up, though. He twisted around, trying to wrench himself out of the other man's grasp.

“Leave me be! Let me go!” he shouted breathlessly.

It was too late. Connor had him in an iron grip, and he wasn't letting go. Roger thrashed, his limbs windmilling, with a fair amount of strength that Cami thought would have seriously hurt Connor if any of the blows had landed.

But they didn't land, partly because Roger was panicking, flailing around wildly, and partly because Connor was adept at dodging flailing blows. Cami watched in riveted admiration as he ducked and dove, getting himself out of the way of those thrashing fists even as he reeled the man in.

Connor held fast, tugged hard, and with a heavy thud, Roger's knees hit the ground. He was down.

Cami felt a wave of relief wash over her. She had done it. She had made the difference, even if it had then taken Connor's skill and strength to finally capture this fugitive.

She stepped forward, her legs shaking and her heart pounding as she thought about what had happened, replaying the frantic chase in her mind.

He'd run, immediately and without any reason, as soon as Connor had identified himself as FBI. Cami knew there had to be a damned good reason for that. And she couldn't wait to hear what it was.

You're coming with us," Connor said, getting the radio off his belt.

***

Twenty minutes later, they were walking into the interview room of the exact same police station that Cami had spied at the edge of the office park. But now, at least, they had a suspect with them.

Sitting in the interview room next to Connor, Cami thought that the man across the table looked nervous.

He'd been let out of his handcuffs, because once Connor had subdued him, all the fight had gone out of him. Physically, at least. Cami wasn't sure it had gone out of his head. The way his gaze was locking with Connor's told her that he might still have a few tricks up his sleeve, even if fleeing the FBI was no longer on the list.

"Roger Harwood," Connor said, "you were clearly asked to cooperate when police approached you. You didn't, and so, here we are. What's your reason?"

Roger shifted in his chair, looking uncomfortable. "I was scared," he said.

Connor gave him a cynical stare. "Really? You, a fully grown man, holding down a high-level job in the corporate world, were scared by a man and woman identifying themselves as being from law enforcement and simply wanting information? I’ve seen people scared in those circumstances before, and what they don’t do is run the way you did."

His tone implied that Roger had to do better if he wanted Connor to buy a word he said.

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