“Where are we?”
“Southwest of D.C., in Virginia. Technical term would be the boonies.”
“Do you own it?”
Robie put the truck back in drive and headed for the barn. He stopped, got out, unlocked the barn doors, and drove the truck inside. He got out again, grabbed the sack of groceries, and said, “Come on.”
Julie followed him to the house. There was an alarm system. The beeping sound stopped when Robie put in the code. He was careful to not let her see the numbers he punched in.
He closed and locked the door.
She looked around, still clutching her backpack.
“Where do I go?”
He pointed up the straight set of stairs on one side of the small entrance hall. “Spare bedroom, second door on the right. Bathroom across the hall. You hungry?”
“I’d rather sleep.”
“Okay.” He lifted his gaze to the stairs in a prompting manner.
“Good night,” said Robie.
“Good night.”
“And make sure you don’t shoot yourself with the pepper spray. It really stings the skin.”
She looked down at her hand where the small canister was hidden.
“How did you know?”
“I saw you had it pointed at me the whole drive over. Don’t blame you. Get some sleep.”
She set off. He watched her trudge up the stairs. He heard the bedroom door open and close and then the lock engage.
Smart girl.
Robie went into the kitchen, put the groceries away, and sat down at the round table across from the sink. He set the. 38 throwaway on the table and took out his cell phone. No GPS chip was in there. Company policy, because a chip could work both ways. But he had screwed up on the pinhole.
And they must have suspected he wouldn’t fire on the woman tonight. They had the tracker on him in case he gave them the slip.
A setup from the get-go. Nice. Now he needed to figure out why.
He clicked some buttons on his phone and looked at the photos he’d taken at the dead woman’s apartment.
Her driver’s license stated that her name was Jane Wind, age thirty-five. Her unsmiling photo looked back at Robie. He knew she would be lying on the D.C. medical examiner’s metal exam table shortly, her face not just unsmiling but badly disfigured by the rifle round. Her child would be autopsied too. Having taken the brunt of the round’s kinetic energy, the boy would no longer really have a face.
Robie looked at the photos of her passport pages. He enlarged the screen so he could make out the ports of entry. There were several European countries on there, including Germany. Those were usual. But then Robie saw Iraq, Afghanistan, and Kuwait. Those were not so usual.
He next looked at her government ID card.
Office of the Inspector General, U.S. Department of Defense.
Robie stared at the screen.
I’m screwed. I’m totally screwed.
He used his phone to access the Internet and scrolled through news sites looking for any information on Wind’s death or the bus exploding. There was nothing on Wind. They might not have found her yet. But the bus blowing up had already attracted attention. However, there were few details. Robie obviously knew more than any of the reporters out there trying to find out what had happened. According to the news accounts thus far, the authorities were not ruling out a mechanical cause for the explosion.
And that’s where it might remain, thought Robie, unless they could find evidence to the contrary. Blowing up an old bus in the middle of the night and killing a few dozen people didn’t seem like it would be high on a jihadist’s bucket list.
His handler had not tried to contact him again. Robie was not surprised by this. They wouldn’t have expected him to answer in any event. He was safe here for now. Tomorrow? Who knew? He glanced in the direction of the stairs. He was on the run, and he was not alone. Alone he might have a chance. But now?
Now he had Julie. She was fourteen, maybe. She didn’t trust him or anyone else. And she was running from something too.
His mind and body tired, Robie could think of nothing else to do right now. So he did what made sense. He went upstairs to the bedroom across the hall from hers, locked the door behind him, laid the. 38 on his chest, and closed his eyes.
Sleep was important right now. He wasn’t sure when he would get another chance to do it.
CHAPTER
20
The window opened and the tied-together sheets snaked down the side of the house. Julie looped the other end around the footboard of the bed and tugged on it to make sure it was secure. She slipped through the window, clambered quietly down the improvised rope, touched the ground, and darted off into the darkness.
She didn’t know exactly where she was, but she had been following the truck’s route while pretending to be asleep. She figured she could get to the main road and then follow that to a store or gas station where she could make a call to a cab company to come and pick her up. She checked her stash of cash and her credit card. She was good to go.
The darkness didn’t frighten her. Sometimes the city during the day was far scarier. But she crept along silently, because as good as Will had seemed, she knew someone could still have followed them. She mapped out her plan in her head and decided that it was as good as she was going to come up with under the circumstances.
She knew her parents were dead. She wanted to lie down on the ground, curl up, and never stop crying. She would never see her mother again. She would never hear her father’s laugh. Then their killer had come after her. And then he’d been blown up in that bus.
But she couldn’t curl up and cry. She had to keep moving. The last thing her parents would have wanted was for her to die too.
She was going to survive. For them. And she was going to find out why someone had killed them. Even if the killer was now dead. She needed to know the truth.
The road was not much farther. She picked up her pace.
She had no time to react.
It just happened.
The voice said, “You know, I was going to make breakfast for you.”
She gasped, turned, and gazed at Robie, who was sitting on a tree stump staring at her. He got up. “Was it something I said?”
She glanced back at the house. She was far enough away that all she could make out was a sense of powered light through the tangle of trees and brush.
“I changed my mind,” she said. “I’m heading on.”
“Where?”
“That’s my business.”
“You sure about this?”
“Completely sure.”
“Okay. You need any money?”
“No.”
