'I was leading up to my surprise,' Anne said. She took a breath and then whispered, 'I found it.'
'Found what?' Carrie demanded.
Anne beamed with self-satisfaction. 'A way out.'
Chapter 17
'You'll be okay here,' John Paul told Avery.
'What do you mean, I'll be okay? You're thinking about hiking to Coward's Crossing now? In the dark… in a rainstorm?
Are you nuts?'
'Avery,' he began.
She grabbed his arm. 'Okay, if your mind's made up, I'm going with you.'
She knew he'd argue, and he did exactly that. He was almost civil as he told her she would slow him down, and he didn't want
or need to have to worry about her out there. When that didn't work, he tried intimidation, even going so far as to threaten to tie her to the steering wheel.
She let him go on and on as she climbed into the backseat, found her black jogging jacket, and put it on, and then dug through her bag until she located her baseball cap.
Scooping her hair up under the black-and-orange Orioles cap, she adjusted the brim, sat back, and kicked off her tennis shoes.
Her goal was to try to blend in with the night, and white tennis shoes would be seen.
Thank God she'd decided to bring her hiking shoes. She knew he was watching her every move as she carefully repacked her duffel bag.
'I think it's crazy to hike in the dark… only an idiot would try it, but if that's what you want to do, then I'm right behind you,'
she said.
'You're staying here,' he said between gritted teeth.
She pretended she hadn't heard him. 'We won't get far, and one of us might break an ankle or something walking into a hole
we can't see. If I were making the decisions,' she added as she carefully placed her tennis shoes, soles up, on top of her clothes and rezipped the bag, 'I'd say we should stay in the car until dawn. Then we hike at a fast clip.'
'Yeah, well, you're not making the decisions. I am.'
She pushed the duffel bag to the floor, stacked her hands on the headrest, and leaned forward until she was just inches from
his face. 'Why?'
He couldn't hold on to his glare or his bad mood when she smiled. Hell, she even batted those big baby blue eyes at him.
'Are all the typists at the Bureau smart-asses like you?'
He was trying to put her on the defensive so she'd stop arguing with him and let him do what he was trained to do. It was a
great plan, he thought, but unfortunately she was having none of it.
'Are all burnouts as obnoxious and stubborn as you are?'
He caught himself before he smiled. 'Probably,' he allowed.
'Are we going or not? Time's a-wasting, John Paul.'
'We're going to wait until dawn,' he said. 'Don't give me that smug look, sugar. I had already decided to wait.'
'Uh-huh.'
He was smart enough to know it was time to stop arguing. Honest to God, she was more stubborn than he was, and in truth,
that impressed the socks off him. She wasn't going to let him win this round, but he already had another plan in mind. He'd
sneak away a little before dawn. When she woke up, she'd have to stay in the car and wait for him to come back.
And if he didn't make it back…
'I'm gonna leave the keys in the car.'
'Okay.'
'Get in the front seat so I can fold down the back. I've got a sleeping bag,' he added. 'You can use it.'
'We'll both use it.'
'Yeah?'
She rolled her eyes. 'Don't get any fancy ideas, Renard.'
'Fancy?' He laughed.
Avery had already found the latches and unhooked the seat backs. When they were flat, she spread out the sleeping bag. She tucked her hiking shoes under the seat, removed her jacket, and tossed it on the floor. John Paul stretched out on his back with
his feet against the dashboard. He looked comfortable, his hands stacked on his chest, his eyes closed.
Shivering from the cold, she had to climb over his legs to get to the other side. Her teeth were chattering as she stretched out beside him. She couldn't reach her jacket. It was under the seat below him. A gentleman would have put his arms around her
to warm the shivers away. He wasn't a gentleman, she decided, when he completely ignored her.
It had always been a point of pride with her never to complain. She was usually quite good at suffering minor and major
ailments in silence. But John Paul brought out the worst in her. She really wanted to whine now, and she was more disgusted
with herself than with him. He couldn't help being a jerk. She could.
Suck it up, she told herself. Then a minute later, when she was sure her toes were frostbitten, she whispered, 'Screw this.'
'What?'
'I said it was cold.'
'Huh.'
'Huh, what?'
'I could have sworn I heard you say, 'Screw this.' '
He really liked being rude, she supposed, and no wonder, he was so very good at it. She smiled in spite of her misery.
'Don't you think it's cold?'
'No.'
Ignoring his answer, she said, 'We should share our body heat.' He didn't move a muscle. 'Put your damn arms around me, Renard. I'm freezing. For God's sake, be a gentleman.'
He still didn't move. She was half on top of him now, trying to steal some of the warmth his body generated. The man was like
an electric blanket.
'Move it.' She grimaced after giving the order. She sounded like a drill sergeant.
He was trying hard not to laugh at her. 'If I put my arms around you, sugar, I might not remain a gentleman.'
Oh, brother. 'I'll take my chances, sugar,' she drawled back.
She leaned up so he could put his arm out, and the second he did, she cuddled up against his side. John Paul rolled over and enveloped her with his arms.
