catching him with his guard down so she could escape. Couldn’t let him know how terrified she was.
She licked her lips and tried again. “Where are you going?”
“Not where I’d originally planned.”
How about a straight answer? Gabrielle unclenched her fisted hands and took a couple breaths. Now was the time for patience, not ripping at him, but she was edgy from exhaustion and vibrating from the quick release of an adrenaline rush.
She kept silent while he made two sharp turns, then parked. He left the engine running and switched the headlights off. “You can get up for a minute.”
About time. She arched her back and tried to get traction with her knees.
“Here.” He reached over, cupped her under the arms, and lifted her out of the hole. That he did it so easily told her just how strong this guy was, because she was no lightweight.
As soon as she had some balance, he released her and flipped open his phone, text-messaging someone. He scowled.
“What’s wrong?” Her pulse jackhammered in her ears.
“No signal.”
She took deep breaths, trying to calm herself, and looked around. The first street sign she recognized meant they were located in the south end of the city, just off Peachtree Parkway. “This is one of two areas I always lose calls. Think we’re in a pocket between cell towers.”
Sirens whined in the distance.
Her stomach growled.
His look of surprise would have been funny in different circumstances. “Hungry?”
“No.” She’d had one meal in two days, but the thought of eating right now nauseated her. She propped an elbow on the door frame and supported her aching head on her hand.
“Who are you working with?” He gripped the steering wheel with one hand, tapping a finger and eyes distant as though he worked on a thought.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t jerk me around,” he warned.
Getting yelled at snapped the last link to her patience.
Damn the consequences. She lifted her head and turned to him. “Well, I don’t know anything about you other than you killed a DEA agent, so I’m not in the frame of mind to be jerked around either.”
“I didn’t kill him,” he muttered, then paused and hit her with a look of disbelief. “You thought the guy I shot was DEA?”
Her stomach did a roll at the incredulity in his voice. “He had ID. He is…was Special Agent Curt Morton.”
“Shit.”
She really didn’t like the sound of that. “I don’t understand.”
“Curt Morton has been missing for two weeks, which means if Baby Face had his ID then Curt is most likely dead.”
She rubbed her head, trying to piece it all together. “Who is Baby Face?”
“The man you were leaving with was Baby Face Jones.”
“Who is he…what does he do?” She had a sick feeling she wasn’t going to like the answer.
“He’s a…mercenary who does errands.”
“Like kidnapping?”
“So you weren’t leaving with him voluntarily?”
She shook her head. “No. I thought he was DEA and he threatened me if I didn’t go with him. So is he a kidnapper?” Sacre bleu, sacre bleu…she’d been walking into a trap.
“Kidnapping is side work. His real expertise is electronic crimes, plus he tortures intelligence agents for marketable information when he can nail one.”
Dots floated in her vision. “Who are you?” she asked in a strained voice. “Are you with the DEA?”
“Carlos. I’m not DEA. Who are you?”
“Gabrielle…Parker.”
“Right.” That snicker of skepticism was in his voice again. “We have to move. I need a tower.”
“Was that sport utility in my driveway yours?” she wondered aloud. Everyone seemed to show up at her rental house on foot.
“No.” He scanned around them while he put the Jeep into gear and flipped the headlights on. “Scoot back down.”
“Who sent Baby Face?”
“I don’t know and don’t care until I find out where my partner is.”
“Do you and your partner work for-”
“-no one you’d know.”
That wasn’t encouraging. “What do you want with me?”
He ignored her again. “Get back down.”
Going to the police would create all sorts of problems for her, but she was starting to reconsider that if her next best option was dying or being tortured.
That didn’t even take into consideration what this Carlos had planned for her. Where did he stand with law enforcement?
“We could knock on a door and ask the residents to call the police,” she suggested. Not a bad idea since it would give her a chance to escape this guy.
“No police.” Carlos turned a grim face to her. “If we get out of here alive and find a freakin’ tower, I can contact my people.”
No police. My people. That sure as the devil didn’t sound like someone aligned with law enforcement.
She pushed her body back into a wad between the seat and the floorboard, wet, cold, and scared. Mostly scared.
He kept his speed moderate, driving as if he were a model citizen for several miles. She wrenched her wrist around to see the time, clenching her teeth to stop the chattering.
She took advantage of his silence to plot where to find public transportation and which way to head for a new hiding place once she broke free of him. Accessing funds would take time, but she kept money stashed in several remote locations.
Planning for survival beat thinking about how close she’d come to being caught by Baby Face or wondering what Carlos had in mind for her.
Carlos punched numbers in his phone whenever his shifting hand was free. Something must have gone through since he started talking.
“Lee check in?” he asked without even saying hello. Pause. Curse. “Send cleanup to the location. I’ve got the source, but I’m in a traffic jam. I need-” He pulled the phone from his head, stared at the tiny cell phone, and lifted it as if to slam the device against the steering wheel.
But he didn’t, closing the phone with a finger.
Lost call again?
Gabrielle couldn’t see streetlights any longer from her position. Just pitch dark. “We’re not in a traffic jam. We’re in the country.”
“Yep.”
“I’m getting up if no one is chasing us.”
He reached over and used one hand this time to lift her out of the hole. His grip was strong, but he handled her…gently. She would have pulled away when she plopped on the seat, but he released her immediately, his large hands returning to the task of driving.
Gentle hands…capable of killing.
Carlos hadn’t harmed her. Yet. Was he any safer than Baby Face? She shivered, glad not to have gone with that monster.
That had been too close.
She stretched her back muscles and rubbed her cold arms. Her clothes had reached that damp, icky state.
“Now what?” Gabrielle swiveled her head, squinting to make out landmarks. They were on Highway 54 just
