The two men exchanged another knowing glance. “We don’t know,” Duncan admitted. “But hopefully not longer than a few months.”
She placed a protective hand on her stomach. “We don’t have a few months. This baby is due in just under six weeks. A little less, now.”
“I know. Don’t worry, Olivia. It’s going to be okay.” Ryker put a reassuring hand on her arm. “We’re going to protect you, Aaron and the baby. I’m sure the FBI will help us.”
She should be relieved to know that the FBI would be helping to protect her, but she wasn’t. The idea of having a couple of straitlaced FBI agents dressed in suits and ties watching over her was not reassuring. While he might be a perfectly nice guy, she didn’t know or have a reason to trust Dennis Ludwig or any other FBI agent.
She wanted Ryker. Yet for the first time, it occurred to her that maybe he was tired of being in the line of fire on her behalf. After all, he’d done more than his fair share of fighting off the bad guys since he’d found her in Harrisburg.
Her cheeks burned at the memory of how she’d kissed him. Twice. Why on earth had she done that? Based on the fact that he’d tried to convince her that her emotions were some form of hero worship made her realize just how one-sided they were.
The way he’d been kind enough to tell her she was beautiful, when she was as big as a house, was sweet. His way of trying to soften the blow.
He didn’t want her or care about her the way she was beginning to care about him. This plan of going to the FBI for help was obviously twofold.
Get the feds involved in bringing down Harper Moore and Kevin Blake, while extricating himself from her life.
Okay, then. She straightened her shoulders. “All right.”
A momentary confusion washed over Ryker’s face. “All right, what? You’re in agreement with us reaching out to Marc Callahan?”
“Yes. And to bringing in the FBI, that agent in charge.” She searched for his name. “Dennis Ludwig.”
“Great.” Duncan pounced on her agreement. “I’ll call Marc now. He should be back in Milwaukee by now.”
Ryker looked as if he wanted to say something more, but Aaron’s plaintive tone interrupted them.
“Mommy, I’m hungry.”
She turned away from Ryker. “Okay, sweetie. I’ll get you some animal crackers.”
Ryker jumped up and crossed through the connecting doors to get her zebra bag. She stared at it for a moment, hating the idea that she’d been carrying the stupid bank-account numbers in there all this time, then told herself not to be foolish.
The bag wasn’t the problem, the numbers were.
“Duncan, see if Marc can meet us for breakfast,” Ryker said. “We’ll meet him halfway if necessary.”
Duncan raised a hand to acknowledge him, but remained focused on his call. “Marc? Hey, it’s Duncan O’Hare. Do you have a minute? We have a bit of a problem...”
Duncan left the motel room, talking to Marc as he went. She wasn’t sure why he needed privacy. She knew everything that had gone down, but decided it was better for Aaron not to hear any of the specifics.
Her son was satisfied with a couple of animal crackers, his gaze locked on the television.
She second-guessed her decision several times over the next twenty minutes. Marc had agreed to meet with them in about an hour, so Ryker had advised her to pack up their things.
“We won’t be back.”
“But won’t it take time for Marc to get in touch with Dennis Ludwig?”
Ryker nodded. “We’ll still find somewhere else to stay. Better to keep moving.”
“All right.” It didn’t take long for her to gather their things, stuffing everything into the zebra bag.
Thirty minutes later they were on the road. This time Duncan was tucked in the back seat beside Aaron. He was great with her son, keeping him entertained by reciting stories that he must have memorized from children’s books.
“How does he know so many of them?” she asked Ryker.
“He spends a lot of time with his nephew Brodie.”
She remembered hearing about Mike Callahan and Shayla’s son. “He must have a really good memory.”
“Nah. I’ve just read the books about a hundred times each,” Duncan said in a wry tone. “I could recite them in my sleep.”
The family restaurant wasn’t too far off the interstate. They chose a circular booth that offered room for four seats and a high chair for Aaron.
Her stomach rumbled at the enticing scent of bacon and eggs. Ryker must have heard, as he grinned. “Let’s order.”
“I’ll be fine. We can wait for Marc,” she protested.
“Marc is running a bit late,” Duncan said with a glance at his phone. “He said to go ahead and order. He’ll eat on the way.”
Their meal arrived in what seemed like record time. She dove into her over-easy eggs, then realized she forgot to pray, so sent up a quick, silent Thank You, Lord before continuing to eat.
Based on the liberal smears of syrup over his face, Aaron was enjoying his French toast.
She glanced longingly at the coffee Ryker and Duncan were drinking, but told herself to forget it. She remained determined to avoid anything that may impact the baby. Sipping her water, she watched as the two men quickly devoured their meals.
Pushing her empty plate away, she sighed. “That was good, thanks. Please excuse me for a moment.” She slid out of the booth intending to use the restroom.
Ryker’s hand clamped on her arm. “Wait. Duncan, do you see that SUV that just pulled in? Notice the dark tinted windows? Just like the other SUV Blake-Moore used?”
“Yeah.” He lifted his phone to his ear. “Marc? We’ve got company.”
SUV? Company? Her heart squeezed in her chest. No, this couldn’t be happening again. Could it?
How was it possible that the Blake-Moore Group had found them again?
THIRTEEN
“We’re getting out of here.” Ryker wasn’t about to take any chances. He tossed cash on the
