“They knew exactly where we were, Devlin.” He hesitated. “May I call you Devlin? I think we’re beyond official protocols now, don’t you? After all, I did just feel you up a minute ago.”
She whipped her head toward him.
He arched his brows. “Too soon for humor?”
Her look hardened.
He nodded. “Too soon.” A beat. “Anyway, until we know what—and who...or is it whom? I never can remem—” he waved a dismissive hand. “Until we know what’s going on, I’m afraid,” he swung a forefinger back and forth between him and the deputy marshal, “we’re the only ones we can rely on.”
Still biting her lip, Devlin looked away and pinched the bridge of her nose. She grimaced when she touched the spot Pony had smacked with her forehead. I can’t believe someone from my agency is behind this. She huffed and shook her head. He’s right. Until I can disprove it... she let the phone fall to the floor, I have to assume that... and stomped on the contraption twice, my own people want me dead.
Randall watched her, read her. He pressed his lips together. Betrayal...never a good look on anyone. “Here,” he held out two, twelve-round Taurus 24/7 OSS magazines, “the forty-fives in these’ll work with your 1911.”
She glimpsed the ammunition carriers.
A second later, he took her hand and slapped the square tubes into her palm. “You can wonder why your agency wants to kill you, later. Right now, we need to put some distance between us...and this place.” He stepped over bodies and left the house.
After another look at the mess surrounding her, she shoved the Taurus magazines into back pockets and followed his path into the waiting sunshine.
∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞
.
Chapter 15
Full of Surprises
4:23 p.m.
Devlin stepped off the porch, “This way,” and veered right. “We’ll loop back around and cut through the woods. From there, we can flag down a car and drive to the Marshal’s Office in Mexico City.” Realizing she was walking alone, she stopped and eyed Randall. “What is it? A second ago, you were the one hot to get away from here.”
“I thought we discussed this. We don’t know who’s against us, so we must assume...everyone’s against us, especially the wonderful folks at the Marshals Service.”
“What...you think this conspiracy encompasses all levels of the agency?”
“Until we know otherwise,” he nodded one time, “yes.”
Devlin pivoted and stared at nature, contemplating her situation. She had not fathomed the depth of the treachery that had consumed her life. If he’s right, then I truly am...all alone. She turned back and eyed Randall.
“And your plan to go deeper into a country that hasn’t exactly been that hospitable to you thus far...” He let his words hang in the air.
“What do you propose?”
He looked at the ground. “When I was in my late teens, a friend of mine and me had just finished a day of skiing. It was late at night, and we’d gotten lost on some country roads. We must’ve,” Randall made rings in the air with a down turned index finger, “driven around in circles for the better part of an hour before we found the highway.”
Devlin crossed arms over her chest and shifted weight to one foot.
He pumped a palm at her. “Indulge me for a second. Anyway, when I got home, I told my grandfather about it. Pops laid one of his meaty hands on my shoulder and said to me...‘Son, if you’re ever lost again,’” Randall knifed the air in front of him, “‘just point your car in the direction of home, and sooner or later you’ll make it back.’”
Devlin frowned at him.
Randall pointed right. “The Sierra Madre Oriental Mountains are that way.” He aimed the digit in the opposite direction, “The Gulf of Mexico is that way,” before gesturing beyond her shoulder. “That way is Mexico City.” He jerked a thumb backward, toward the house. “Home—our home—is that way. Taking Pops advice, we need to,” he motioned toward the area behind him again, “point this train in the same direction.”
“So your plan is to just hoof it north...all the way home?”
He laughed. “Not exactly. Look, I’m not trying to step on your toes, Devlin, but,” he turned up his palms and glanced around, “I know this area. I have contacts. I can get us to the border. And,” he dipped his forehead at her, “your credentials can get us across that border.” A moment passed. “I’d say we’re a perfect match.”
She scowled at him.
“When we’re on American soil,” he brought his wrists together, “you can slap the cuffs on me again until everything gets sorted out.”
Seeing a map of Mexico in her head, she gave the woods to the south a hard look before eyeing the trees on either side of her. We’re a heck of a lot closer to Texas than we are Mexico City. She arched her back and twisted her torso to loosen a muscle she had tweaked during the scuffle.
Randall ogled the rising breasts he had accidentally fondled earlier. He quickly shut his eyes and shook his head. She’s married, Noah. Show some respect. He observed the lines on her forehead. “We’re back to that trust thing, Marshal.”
She gave him a look.
“Sorry...Deputy Marshal. Maybe by the time this is finished, I’ll have that down pat.” He paused. “Remember, I have a dog in this race too. I want to make it home just as much as you want to get home to your husband.”
Bristling, Devlin dropped hands onto her hips. “What makes you think I’m married?”
He pointed at her barren-of-jewelry left hand. “Even though you have very little hair on your fingers, your left ring finger has none...suggesting something’s been rubbing against it.”
She spied the appendage in question.
“And while there’s no tan line, there is a slight indentation on that finger, alluding to the possibility you’ve been married for only a short time. If I were a betting
