A hard smile curved those pretty pink lips. “That shouldn’t be tough to do—since we’ll both be in the same car. The only question is—are we taking yours or mine?”
Colt shook his head. “You’ll just be in the way.”
Lissa actually laughed. “That’s not true, and unless you’re a fool—which I don’t believe you are—you know it. I’m armed. My car’s parked out front. I keep a go bag in the trunk. My passport’s in it. I’m ready whenever you are.”
Amusement filtered through him. She was a trained police officer, and clearly intelligent. She’d be an asset not a liability. And she knew it.
“If you’re sure that’s the way you want it,” he said. “I’m driving.”
“Fine.” Lissa gave Julie a hug. “The police will want to talk to you. They’ll need Timmy’s picture.” Lissa and Colt both carried photos Julie had given them. “I’ll call and keep you posted on what’s going on.”
Colt leaned down, and Julie’s arms went around his neck. “Thank you, Colt. Thank you so much.”
He kissed the top of her head. “I’ll find your boy. Stay strong until we get back.” Colt turned and strode out the front door. Lissa was already outside, unloading her gear from the trunk of her black Camaro, parked in front of his souped-up black Mustang. The sexy visual brought a fresh jolt of heat, reminding him of how she’d stirred his blood the moment she’d drawn down on him in the living room.
He popped the trunk. They tossed their bags inside and he closed the lid, then both of them slid into the car and clicked on their seat belts. The interior was firecracker hot, but she was a Texan so she didn’t complain.
“Nice ride,” she said.
Colt looked at the Camaro parked in front of them. “Same goes.” As he fired up the powerful engine, turned the AC up full blast, and pulled away from the curb, Lissa ran a slim finger over the dash.
“I’m guessing this car isn’t exactly factory standard.”
He just shrugged. “My dad was a mechanic. I learned a few things, made a few modifications after I bought it.”
She flashed a smile that sent the blood straight to his groin. “I like it.”
As he drove off down the street, she started making calls. First to a detective at the Dallas PD named Mack Handley, reporting a parental abduction and asking Handley to take the case personally and to use kid gloves on her friend. Next she phoned Julie and told her Handley would be getting in touch.
When the call ended, she leaned back in the seat. “I assume we’re taking the same route Spearman’s driving.”
“For now,” he said. “It’s damn near a straight shot to the border crossing in Laredo, about four-hundred fifty miles.”
“If that’s where he’s going. Piedras Negras is a few miles closer. He could be headed either place.”
“Or somewhere in between. He’s got less than a two-hour head start.” Colt pulled onto US 75 South, weaving through Dallas on his way to I-35. It was dark, after 9:00 p.m., the traffic at a minimum. “With luck, we can narrow his lead.” Colt stepped on the gas.
“YOU STILL HAVEN’T told me where we’re going.” Timmy stared into the darkness rushing past the window outside the pickup, a brand-new Chevy Silverado, as it rolled down the highway. It was the same color as its name.
Timmy had thought the truck was cool when his dad had picked him up. He’d thought it was great to finally meet his father. He’d been excited, eager to go with him, get to know him.
Now he felt like a rock sat in the bottom of his stomach and he just wanted to go home.
“We’re going on a trip,” his dad said. “Think of it as an adventure. You’ll get to see places you’ve never been before.”
“Like where?” His dad was a big guy, almost as tall as Colt, with brown hair instead of reddish blond like his own, but they both had blue eyes. His dad had tats. Timmy couldn’t believe his mom had been married to a guy with tats. He had to admit, they really made him look cool.
His father’s eyes cut away from the road, from the occasional set of headlights speeding toward them. “How would you like to see Mexico?”
His worry swelled. “Mexico? That’s a long ways away. I don’t think Mom would like it.”
“Your mom has been in control of your life far too long. It’s time you got to know your father. You’re growing up. There are things you need to learn that your mom can’t teach you. Things that will make you a man.”
Timmy said nothing. He wasn’t a man—he was still a kid. He didn’t mind that. He figured he’d grow up soon enough. That’s what Mom always said.
“How long will it take?” he asked. “To get to Mexico and back?”
“We’ll figure it out once we get there.”
Timmy fell silent. He didn’t say anything else for a while. He didn’t know his dad, but he had a feeling it wouldn’t take much to make him mad. Still, when his stomach started growling, he decided it was time to speak up.
“I didn’t have any dinner. Can we stop and get a burger or something?”
His father cast him a sideways glance. “All right, I suppose we can do that. I’ll start watching for a place to pull off.”
“I like Burger King or Jack in the Box. They’re the best.”
His dad’s gaze sliced back to him. “You’ll eat whatever I buy you and be damned glad to get it. Understand?”
A trickle of fear slipped down his spine. He swallowed. “Okay.”
“Good boy. I have a feeling you’re going to catch on real fast. You do that, we won’t have any problems.”
Timmy could feel his breath coming a little too fast. A couple of times he’d had asthma attacks, but the doctor had said they were mild. It scared him, though. First he’d started coughing, then it was hard to breathe. He sure didn’t want
