The officers flicked their eyes toward Randall.
“She’s telling you...” he looked back at Faith.
She had stepped away from her steel crutch and was shuffling toward him.
“...the tru—”
Two feet from him, she stumbled.
Throwing out his right foot, he nearly did the splits to catch her before she fell onto the hard roadway. “What are you doing? I told you to stay in the car.”
“I’m trying to keep you from getting shot.”
Barking orders, the two cops rushed toward the GMC, their guns up.
“You’re welcome by the way. And a word of advice.” She dipped her head toward the men in blue. “When a cop tells you to drop your weapon, you drop your weapon.”
“Yeah, well,” he holstered his Walther and got a better hold on her, “I’m used to being the one who gets others to drop their guns. Come on.” He shepherded her toward the Dodge. “Let’s get you off that banged up foot of yours.”
Three paces later, stopping and standing taller, “Dang,” he stared straight ahead. “I just remembered. I could’ve shown them my DEA creds. I’m sure that would’ve put their minds at ease.” He faced her, a half grin on his face. “Oops.”
∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞=∞
.
Chapter 18
Faith? Is That You?
12:09 P.M.
Randall had ushered Faith to the Charger and helped her sit down. Acting on a hunch, he had left to go scrounge around inside the trunk of Detective Harker’s car, returning from his scavenger hunt ten seconds later with a medical kit.
After getting an unopened bottle of water from one of the officers, he went to work on her injured heel, first pouring the water over the dirty gash.
“So,” sitting sidesaddle in the passenger seat, her legs crossed at the knee, right over left, her right shoulder leaning against the backrest, she ogled him, “are you ever going to tell me your name...or am I going to have to run a background check on you?”
He grinned. “Don’t you usually have to have the name in order to run those?”
Faith huffed. “Are you always like this?”
“My apologies.” His left hand cupping her right calf, he placed the water bottle on the ground and extended his free hand. “Noah Randall. It’s a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance. I’ve heard a lot of good things about you, Miss Mahoney.”
She shook his offering. “And I know nothing about you. But...since you saved me from a couple of creeps, I’m going to make the call that,” she half closed one eye at him, “that you’re a pretty good guy.”
“Well, thank you. I,” he frowned while repeating her words to himself. Make the call. He uttered a mild cuss word and reached for his jacket pocket. Patting his dress shirt, his hand coming up empty, he spotted his coat on Faith and gestured toward her. “My phone’s in the left pocket. Do you mind?”
She handed him the device.
“There’s someone I need to call.” He pecked the screen with his thumb. “And she’s going to be ticked at me for not doing so sooner; however,” he tapped the ‘speakerphone’ icon and gave the cell back to Faith, “I’m thinking you can help smooth things over with—”
“Where the hell have you been? I’ve been trying to reach you now for...”
He leaned closer to the phone. “Jess—”
“...twenty minutes.”
“Jessic—”
“My calls have been going straight to voicemail. You know I—”
“Jessica?” Faith’s attention went back and forth from the phone to Randall.
“Faith?” Devlin’s voice cracked on her next words. “Is...is that you?”
Her mouth hanging open, Faith eyed Randall. “How do you know my sister?”
“Oh my...Faith, are you all right? Talk to me.”
He waved off the confused woman, “I’ll explain later,” before jabbing a finger at his mobile. “Just talk to her. She’s been worried sick about you.”
*******
While the women had cried, conversed, reminisced about childhood stories, and made promises of future family gatherings, Randall had removed foreign objects from Faith’s wound, washed the area again, applied antiseptic, and wrapped her foot in a white bandage.
Faith: “I love you, Jessica. I’ll see you soon.”
He lifted his hand.
“Hold on a second, Jess.” Faith forfeited the phone.
Stepping away from the car, he turned his back on Faith, took Devlin off speakerphone, and put the device to his cheek. “What happened with Crane?”
Devlin told him what had transpired. “I did get the jet’s tail numbers. I’ve forwarded them to Thorn. She’s working on finding out where in the world that plane landed.”
“And when she does, we’re going there, too, right?”
“Of course, we are.”
“Okay. Just wanted to make sure we’re on the same page.”
Dead air passed over the line.
“I’m not sure I did the right thing by letting him go, Noah.”
Randall rubbed his chin with the back of his hand. “It’s like you said when you were here...you had no good options. If there was even the slightest chance of saving your sister, you had to take it. Anyway, she’s safe now, and we have a lead on Crane. In my book, those are wins.”
More dead air.
“Thanks, Noah...for getting to her in time. I owe you.”
He pivoted and glimpsed Faith, who was eyeballing her injury. “It was my pleasure. You don’t owe me anything,” a beat, “except a big, fat paycheck from Uncle Sam. You know, you still haven’t told me how much money I’m making.”
Devlin laughed.
“And what about moving expenses? Oh. And do I get an expense account?” He spied his sullied jacket. “I could use a new suit right about now, too.”
Faith looked up at him.
He grinned at her.
Devlin: “I promise, Mr. Randall. I’ll do my best to get you all those things. Have a safe flight back to Virginia.”
“I will.” He disconnected the call, took a knee, and reclaimed Faith’s bum foot. “I’m ninety-nine percent sure I got everything out.”
“It looks good. And it feels better already, too.” Her eyes went to her legs, legs that had not seen a razor in days. “Be careful. I wouldn’t want my stubble to draw blood on you.”
“I hadn’t noticed.”
“Fibber.”
He
