Crossing Double (A Heartbreaker Novel Book 3) Page 10

  Something didn’t feel right.

  Chapter 9

  As they headed east, the sun, just rising over the hills, hit Sara in the face. She slipped on her sunglasses as they drove on the mostly deserted little highway. Brent had suggested they stop a while back, but Sara was still driving because she hadn’t been able to sleep with all the adrenaline pumping through her veins. Now, she regretted not stopping because she had to go to the bathroom. Bad.

  She glanced at Brent. His eyes were still closed, so she made an executive decision and turned off onto an even smaller road. They’d made good progress, but much more slowly than if they’d taken the interstate.

  Mittens, lounging on Brent’s lap, nodded her approval. The cat probably needed to go too.

  Sara’s worry had increased with each hour they’d driven. Zoila and Justin had surely heard the news that Brent had supposedly kidnapped her. She hated to worry them, but with the California police after them, she had to stay away from the internet if they were going to make it to her mom’s house in Albuquerque. And avoid people who might recognize her now that the whole world thought she’d been kidnapped.

  Sara glanced at Brent again. Spiky blond hair, a face and body chiseled as if out of stone, and a smile, when he used it, that did something tingly and nice to her insides. She’d always found him attractive. Who wouldn’t want to run her hands all over a body with muscles and abs like his?

  Just the day before, if someone had asked if she thought she and Brent would ever be friends, she would’ve said no. Mostly because it’d seemed like he couldn’t stand her. But not anymore. They were two people working together toward the same goal: to save their lives. Sort of a forced friendship, but it felt like a genuine one.

  He wasn’t at all like other guys she knew. Most of them were spoiled overgrown boys who took more time getting ready in the morning than she did. Fun to party with, but not the ones she’d call when her life needed saving.

  “Why do you keep looking at me?” Brent asked and scared the crap out of her.

  “Your eyes are closed. How would you even know?”

  “I can feel it.” He blinked his eyes open and sat up. “Where are we?”

  “Just west of Phoenix. I took a little detour. There were signs for a campground and recreation area with full amenities just a few miles ahead. Before you say a word, I need to use the ladies’ room and do things I’m not doing on the side of the road.”

  He smiled. “Okay, princess.”

  “Oh, please.” His grin had given him away. “Like you’re going to turn down a toilet right now? Admit it. This is a good idea.”

  He shrugged. “It’d be nice to heat whatever is in the cans you brought for breakfast. And a stretch of the legs is prudent. So, yeah. It’s a good idea.”

  Great. Why had she even mentioned her bathroom needs? And why was it she always felt embarrassed around him? The way he’d shaken his head when she hadn’t known how much money should be in her account. Then her pathetic need for a last-minute wedding date, getting stuck on the stationary bike, forgetting her watch had GPS, and now he had graphic details of what her bathroom routine would include. She could just crawl under a rock and stay there until this was all over.

  He drew her out of her funk when he asked, “So, why were you staring at me?”

  Busted for that now too. “I was just thinking I like your dark hair better than the blond,” she lied. He looked hot with spiky blond hair. And the dark scruff that had appeared on his face overnight made him look even more rough-and-tumble.

  “Noted.”

  Him and his short answers.

  “And maybe I was wondering why a good-looking guy like you is single?”

  He turned and met her gaze. “You’re beautiful and single.”

  She shook her head. “I’m only single because—oh. Did you get dumped recently too?”

  “No.”

  “Well, it couldn’t be because of your scintillating conversation skills, that’s for sure.”

  He grinned. “I just moved to California a few months ago. Everyone I’ve met have all been kind of fake, needy, and way into themselves. Not my type.”

  “So, he does speak in full sentences.” Geez. It was about time. “Describe your type, and I bet I can find you just the right woman after this is all over.”

  “I’m good, thanks.” He turned and stared out the window.

  “Now you’re forcing me to guess. Let’s see. You don’t like fake and into themselves, so maybe you like women who don’t wear makeup, because that would make them a princess like me. And probably someone who doesn’t shave her legs? And not needy because she can kill her own dinner, arm wrestle, and start fires?”

  He shook his head. “Just look for the turnoff, please.”

  “Wait!” She held up a finger. “I know. We’ll find you a cavewoman who can grunt back at you. You’ll never have to utter a full sentence again. See? I’m a good matchmaker.” She smiled at the irritation etched on his face.

  He gazed silently ahead while he petted the cat on his lap, so she poked his arm. “Or you could tell me who your type really is. Then I could find you someone nice, albeit quiet, so your heart has somewhere to deposit all that love I’m sure must be somewhere locked inside.” And she could squelch her curiosity about who his type was. Oddly, she really wanted to know.

  He closed his eyes. “Has it ever occurred to you that I might be gay?”

  Oh, crap! What the heck had she just done? How freakin’ insensitive could she be?

  “Brent, I apologize. I made an assumption. That was wrong of me.” She was an idiot!

  He burst out laughing. “I was just kidding. The look on your face was priceless.”

  She fought the grin that threatened. “Have I mentioned I think you’re annoying?”

  “Nope.” His smiled hadn’t faded. “But I’m pretty sure you like me, but don’t want to.”

  “Why do you think that?” He was right, but probably not for the reasons he thought.

  “Because I confuse you. You’re used to men whose rich daddies set them up for life, not someone who really works for a living.” He poked her arm like she’d just done to him. “Do you want to know what kind of woman I don’t want?”

  More than she wanted her next breath. “Only to pass the time.”

  He shook his head at her flip answer. “I don’t want a woman who can’t stand on her own two feet. Who needs to be told she’s beautiful constantly to feed her ego. And who cares more about herself than her own family. Or who talks about all the material things she wants and needs and expects a man to give to her. Someone who can’t appreciate a beautiful sunset more than those damned shoes with the red bottoms.”

  Sara slowly nodded. “So, because my mother pays my tuition and insists I wear shoes with red bottoms, that makes me weak and materialistic?”

  “No.” He frowned before turning his attention out the window again. “I wasn’t talking about you. I was talking about my mother. She was like Marilyn Monroe. Beautiful, fragile, and men dropped at her feet, but none of them took her seriously. She’d do just about anything for a pair of red-soled shoes. More than she cared about feeding her kid. I loved her, but I want to be with someone who is an equal partner, not a grown-up child.”

  “Makes sense.” Sara’s heart ached for the childhood he must’ve had. She’d never gone without food, shelter, or her mother’s love. “But I can relate to not being taken seriously.”

  “It’s the press.” He scratched the stubble on his chin. “They make you out to be someone you’re not. But you handle them better than most.”

  She shook her head. “All I want is for the press to leave me alone. Stop popping out of bushes and poking lenses in my face. They’re like vultures just waiting for me to screw up again. That’s why I’m going to get my degree and work at the shelter. Nine to five every day. They’ll get bored with me, and then maybe I can have my life back.”

  “Maybe dating someone who isn’t famous
next time would help too,” he pointed out.

  “Yeah. And I’m sure you’ll find the right person for you too.” She gave his hand lying on his thigh a sympathetic pat.

  “Maybe.” He slid his hand out from under hers and pointed ahead. “There’s the turn. On the right.”

  “I see it.” She slowed and put her hand back on the wheel as she made the turn into the recreation area, feeling like something had just passed between them, but she wasn’t sure what exactly. “Just so we’re clear, here, I don’t hate that I like you, Brent. I’m just fine with liking you. And it’s okay if you don’t like me.”

  “I never said I didn’t like you.” He placed Mittens in the backseat and started the scanning-all-around-with-his-eyes thing again. “I said you’d never like a guy like me. Probably because I’d never tell you you’re beautiful or buy you red-soled shoes. And because I grunt out one-word answers like a caveman.”

  “Well, there is that. Except you just called me beautiful before you so kindly pointed out my single status. So, thanks.”

  “Just stating the obvious.” He continued his surveillance. “And I meant what I said. You’re very good with the press. That you held it together at the shelter the other day was impressive.”

  That he thought she was attractive in her workout clothes and with her new boyish haircut made her smile inside. But that he’d taken her seriously, complimented her public speaking skills made her heart smile.

  She followed weathered wood signs down a long dirt road surrounded by cactuses, the tall ones looking like headless people with bent arms scattered among rocks and boulders, and felt compelled to ask, “So, are we done fighting?”

  “Didn’t realize we were.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Maybe it had been her own internal fight against falling for anyone new for a while. Because there was something about Brent that made her feel safe, challenged, and attracted to him all at the same time. She’d never felt like that before.

  A sign at a fork in the road pointed to camping one way, and the other to the day recreation area.

  Brent tilted his thumb to the left. “Let’s avoid the camping people. Go for the day option.”

  “Sounds good.” She turned to the left, eager to find those full amenities.

  Empty covered picnic areas with grills and tables spread out before them and had pretty views of a canyon just beyond. Signs pointed to different trailheads. One even said there was a waterfall. In the desert? Weird.

  She headed for the most remote picnic site that wasn’t too far away from the facilities.

  “Dibs if there’s only one bathroom.” She threw the car in Park and didn’t wait for his answer.

  As soon as Sara disappeared inside the brick structure, Brent dug out his phone. The display read:

  Car in place by 0800. Map attached. Parked on the street. Older 4x4. Supplies in glove box.

  He was still confused about Rick’s lack of information earlier about what he and Sara had heard on the radio. 10-4. Any new chatter?

  PD searching from above. They haven’t ID’d Annalisa’s car yet. Matter of time. What’s your plan?

  Why wouldn’t Rick mention the APB? It made no sense. He replied,

  Switch cars and drive until we have to stop for gas. Make ABQ tonight.

  Still confused by Rick’s lack of communication, Brent tapped on the map pdf and found the recreation area they were at. The new car wasn’t far. They’d have to wait until the car was in place at the pickup location, but how was he going to convince Sara to go along with taking it? She’d think they were stealing it. But first, where could they hide Annalisa’s car until they could take off? It was only six thirty.

  The hilly desert terrain covered with cactuses and low scrub brush wouldn’t provide any cover from above. And not a tree in sight. The black Mercedes stood out in the empty picnic area like a shining beacon from above. He needed to check out the camping area, see if there was some shelter there where they could hide the car until it was time to go.

  Mittens meowed loudly from the backseat, so he tucked his phone away and grabbed her bowl. He found some bottled water and a can of sardines in the bag Sara had packed. He opened the door and let the cat out, hoping it knew what to do without a litter box. Then he opened her sardines and found an apple for himself.

  After a few minutes, Sara reappeared, looking like she needed a nap. “Thanks for feeding Mittens.” Her eyes had dark circles under them and they lacked their usual sparkle. “The bathroom wasn’t nearly as bad as I had imagined.”

  He nodded as he finished his apple. “I’ll go see for myself.” He headed for the bathroom while trying to decide if it’d be safer for them to drive to the town where the car was going to be delivered or stay put at the rec area and off the streets. The police might be concentrating on the roads rather than a state park. It was Sunday morning. Maybe more people would show up soon, so the car wouldn’t stand out so badly.

  After he was done, he joined Sara and the cat in the car again and then picked up Mittens. “Why don’t you get some rest? I’m going to walk over to the camp area and see if there’s any better shelter in case they have choppers looking for us.”

  Sara opened a box of breakfast pastries. “Why are you taking Mittens and not me?”

  “Because she talks less and listens better.”

  “Such a comedian today.” Sara handed him a pack of toaster pastries. “Thank goodness for Mrs. Wilson. She always has these on hand in case I visit.”

  He opened up the kids’ treat and took a bite. “Who is Mrs. Wilson?” Raspberry and sugar sweetness exploded in his mouth. It wasn’t half-bad.

  “My mom’s chef. She’s like a second mother to me and Dani.”

  Thinking of the way Zoila treated Sara, he said, “Seems you have a few second moms. Stay inside the car, please.” He grabbed the empty water bottle, opened the door, and stepped out.

  “Wait.” Sara leaned over the seat to peer up at his face. “Seriously, why are you taking the cat? You aren’t ditching me, are you?” Her features scrunched with concern.

  He leaned his head in the car so she wouldn’t have to crane her neck. “I’m not going to ditch you, Sara. Ever. I’m taking Mittens so I look trustworthy. I’m a big guy with this cute cat looking to fill up a water bottle for her. How nefarious can I be?”

  Sara’s tempting lips formed a slow smile. “I don’t know. You sure aren’t the quiet accountant I thought you were when we first met. I have a feeling you might just be a little nefarious.”

  He wanted to kiss her, so he leaned away before he did. “Get some rest, Eloise.”

  She rolled her eyes at him right before he closed the door. He pointed to the locks and waited until she was secure, then he headed out toward the camping area.

  The December air was crisp but would warm to about sixty-five according to the weather report he’d called up on his phone while he walked along the dirt road. He’d hoped for low clouds, but no such luck. Looked like it was going to be a sunny day. Making it easier for cops with eyes in the sky to see them.

  After a short walk, he spotted the camping area. There were a few people mulling around the half-empty campground. And no shade structures to hide the car. Looked like most of the campers had awnings on their units or brought their own shade.

  He made his way near the bathroom where there was a place to get water to fill the bottle for Mittens. Nearby, an older couple looked as though they were packing up to leave. The woman was cleaning up their breakfast dishes, and the man was storing blocks he’d just removed from behind the tires.

  Brent put Mittens down. “Go look hungry and make some friends.”

  There were only two ways to leave from the park, and one was through the town they needed to be at by 0800 to pick up their new ride. They were sitting ducks in the nearly empty picnic area as it was. And maybe if they found a ride, left the car in the parking lot, a ranger might not notice it until closing time, giving them a head start before they figured out they
’d switched cars. Besides, he really wanted to use someone else’s phone and text Rick on his private cell to see what was going on at HQ. Everything on their work phones was monitored.

  Brent killed time by washing his hands and face. Mittens had failed at her mission. She’d walked about ten feet and then flopped onto a patch of grass to groom herself.

  He sighed and filled the bottle. A dog would’ve gone in hunt for scraps for sure. Mittens seemed to have her own agenda.

  He called out, “Mittens?” and turned in a circle as if he didn’t know exactly where she was.

  The lady called out, “I think she’s right over there.”

  Brent turned around and forced a big grin on his face. “Thank you.” He walked over to where Mittens sat licking her paws and lifted her up. “My girlfriend would kill me if I’d lost her cat.”

  The woman cocked her head. “You brought a cat along to camp?”

  He smiled and moved a little closer. “No. We’re just using the facilities on the day parking side. Passing through on our way to Sun City. Got a call in the middle of the night that her dad was taken to the hospital with chest pains.”

  The woman’s face wrinkled with concern. She appeared to be in her late seventies. “I’m sorry to hear that. I hope he’ll be okay.”

  “Yeah. Us too. But then we ran over something and have two flat tires.” He slowly walked closer and held out a hand for a shake while his mind raced for a believable story. “Name’s Randal Mason. You wouldn’t have a cell phone I could borrow, would you? We left in such a hurry last night, our phones weren’t all the way charged and they died. I need to see if I can get a tow truck to come save us.”

  The woman reached out and shook Brent’s hand. “Esther Kincaid. My husband, Will, has our cell phone. Be right back.” She walked to the big RV and disappeared inside. Brent sat at the picnic table with Mittens while he figured his next move to get him and Sara a ride out of there and away from Annalisa’s traceable car.

  Will, who looked like he’d been a pro football player in his prime, rumbled down the steps. “The wife says your phone died and you need to borrow ours?”