“You okay?”
She nodded. “Thanks.” Tears gleamed in her eyes, on her face, and the arm she favored was tucked between them. “I have to go,” she said, pushing off of him and limping away.
He let her think she was rid of him, taking a minute to catch his breath before winding his way back to join the rest of the crowd and resume his surveillance.
This time he was looking for a certain hoodie as well as Nicole. He expected to find her getting treatment with one of the paramedic crews on the scene. Instead, he found her huddled on the curb near the parking lot with her neighbor. Both women were smiling through the tears shining on their faces.
From his vantage point, he couldn’t see much and he didn’t want to spook her by coming too close. Still, nothing could have surprised him more than the flash of a spiked head and a long green tail wrapping around the neighbor’s arm.
Nicole had gone into a burning building to save the neighbor’s lizard? He’d seen some crazy things in some dangerous parts of the world, but he couldn’t imagine anyone handing out a bronze star for iguana rescue. Having watched her for a few days she didn’t strike him as a glory hound, but that was one hell of a risk for any pet. She didn’t strike him as stupid either, until she’d climbed into a burning building without backup.
He also didn’t believe the ladder sabotage was about stopping a lizard rescue or as simple as a gang jump in. He’d have to check the database for local gang trends. Arson maybe, but he sensed there was something more behind this.
As if the world wanted to affirm his logic, he caught sight of the same gang colors on a pair of kids leaning against a glossy modified Honda. The way the pair was watching the blaze made Rick think the only thing missing was a bucket of popcorn. He wanted to snap a picture with his phone, but it wasn’t worth the risk.
Nothing was lining up the way it should be here. Splitting his attention between Nicole, the Honda pair, and the crowd, he searched for anyone else with undue interest in Nicole. Fortunately he came up empty. Either the hoodie knew he’d missed a golden opportunity, or it had been a random act of stupidity and opportunity after all.
Rick ducked behind an SUV when Nicole parted from her neighbor. He assumed the typical shock of displacement was setting in as she retreated to her car rather than seek help from the nearest ambulance crew.
His car was parked nearby, but he didn’t have to rush or call attention to himself. He’d put a GPS tag on her vehicle so he wouldn’t lose her if she did manage to get a head start.
But she just sat there, cell phone in her hand and her gaze steady on the colorful collection of emergency vehicles.
What was she thinking?
Concerned, he pulled out his cell phone and sent another text to the office. They had a basic background on her but his gut—and the sabotaged ladder—told him it was time to dig deeper.
* * *
Nicole’s chest burned from Oscar’s claws. It felt like she might never be rid of the imprint of his teeth in her collar bone and she could feel the blood seeping into her shirt. Her arms ached from the awkward descent on the broken ladder, but the rest of her was remembering the feeling of the muscled body that broke her fall.
She blamed the spike of desire on the adrenaline as her mind turned over the bigger question. Who was he?
He might actually have been a journalist who’d spotted her where she didn’t belong. She shook her head. He might just as easily have been the sicko who’d stared the fire. Assuming this conflagration was arson. And the ladder had been in perfect working order when she’d gone in for Oscar. If he’d sabotaged the ladder while she was inside, why had he changed his mind and helped her down?
Who he was seemed irrelevant—was irrelevant—in light of her more immediate troubles.
Sitting in her car, Nicole looked down at her phone and tried to make herself dial the number she was supposed to dial in the event of a life threatening crisis. Yet, it was impossible to drum up any enthusiasm to make the call that would pluck her up and away from this mess like a magician pulling a rabbit from his hat.
Except the rabbit wouldn’t look like an amnesiac while it adjusted to yet another fabricated name and background.
Really, she should be grateful to have been Nicole Livingston long enough to get through high school and college as one person. She studied the chaos, searched her surroundings, and rather than irreparable destruction, this time she saw the singular opportunity.
The small, rebellious corner of her soul, the one place where she still felt like her original self, had been preparing for this chance. Did she dare take it?
She toed the rubber floor mat, knowing there was a prepaid credit card and enough cash tucked under the lining of the carpeting for a train ticket to get her to the next step on her private underground railroad.
They’d taught her well in the two previous incarnations of her life. She knew how to stay under the radar, how to create a history, and most importantly how to let go of an identity.
This time the names, preferences, and profession would be of her choosing. She smiled into the rear view mirror, master of her fate once more.
The smile turned to a wince as she pushed the key into the ignition. The movement aggravated the wounds the panicked Oscar had inflicted.
The medical assistance nearby was tempting, but would only reduce her head start—or completely prevent her escape. Whether or not she made the call, she knew someone would be dispatched as soon as the address of the fire made it up the chain of command. Once she was away, she could risk a visit to a drugstore to deal with the cleanup.
She bid a silent farewell to Mrs. Beaumont and Oscar, and drove away from the scene.
Catching sight of a couple of kids sporting gang colors in the parking lot, she didn’t go directly to the train station or even a motel. She drove carefully through the neighborhood and took a turn around a nearby shopping mall before joining the light traffic on the interstate.