Cici Wright was upscale, the product of wealth and security. He was wrong-side-of-the-proverbial-tracks. A guy who, as she’d pointed out, hot-wired cars and shot out tires to survive.
End of story.
His phone rang, the sound loud over the speakers in the silent car. Asher hit the button to answer. “Yeah?”
“It’s Ballentine. Cici’s with you?”
She leaned closer as if the Bluetooth microphone wouldn’t pick up her voice from the passenger seat. “Right here, Forbes.”
“Good. Listen, I’ve got a jet waiting at Hanscom Field. I want you both on it. I’ll have someone meet you at the airport in Portland. I’m headed over to your parents’ house to fill them in. Brooklynn assures me they’ll want you there to keep you safe.”
“Yeah, probably.” Cici didn’t sound excited by the prospect. “Do you know if Delaney’s back?”
He blew out a breath. “According to your mom, she’s fine, but she’s not ready to come home.”
“Brooklynn hasn’t talked to her?”
“She called but Delaney didn’t pick up.”
Asher had no idea what was going on with the younger Wright sister. He did know she was a little old to be running away from home.
“Once Cici’s safe at the Wright estate, Rhodes, you’ll be off the clock.”
Done by the end of the day. He could drop Cici and that cursed necklace into Forbes’s hands and get back to his life.
But what about Cici?
“How do you plan to keep her safe?” Asher asked. “Those guys aren’t going to stop pursuing her just because she crossed into Maine.”
“Bartlett’s sending a team, and the FBI is involved as well.”
Good. A team could keep her safe. The guys Asher worked with were the best.
Would he be assigned? Did he want to be?
Irrelevant, though he wouldn’t mind sticking around Shadow Cove for a few days. His parents lived in an apartment in Portland, just a half hour away, no longer in the tumbledown trailer where Asher and his brother had grown up.
“Is it Derrick?” Cici asked.
Was who Derrick? Probably a rich boyfriend. The thought sent ice water to his racing heart.
“He’s headed to the airport now,” Forbes said. “Where are you guys?”
Asher fielded that. “Just outside of Sturbridge.”
“Great. If you take the interstate?—”
“We’re sticking to back roads.”
“We don’t have to, though,” Cici said. “Nobody knows what we’re driving.”
Asher shot her a look and repeated, “We’re sticking to back roads. I’ll send you an ETA.”
“That’ll work. I’ll send you a number. When you get to the airfield, text it, and Derrick will tell you where to meet him.”
“Got it.” Asher hung up, the tension in his shoulders easing a fraction.
A jet. That was the best solution to get Cici to safety.