Page 45 of Defending You
When she was steady, he said, “We need to get far enough away to hide out.” He studied the map. “Somewhere safe.”
She chewed her lip, then said, “The library? It’s still a good place to hide. Dad can send a car there.”
He didn’t look up from the phone screen, and she braced for a dismissal. But after a moment, he nodded. “Concord’s got one. It’s not far. Not even two miles as the crow flies…which is how we’ll get there.”
Two miles might as well have been twenty. The trek was brutal, especially in slippery rubber shoes. The tangled underbrush and uneven ground were bad enough, not to mention the flies and mosquitoes and spider webs.
Her legs ached, her patience frayed, and the necklace felt like a brick in her purse.
They reached pretty streets lined with manicured lawns and elegant homes. She was glad to be out of the woods, literally ifnot figuratively, but tension hovered over Asher like heat over an asphalt road. He swiveled his head in every direction, scanning for threats.
It was late in the afternoon by the time they spotted the Concord Free Public Library, a stately brick building with white columns, its grounds whispering of minutemen and 1775. Cici’s high school history lessons nagged at her: the shot heard ’round the world, Paul Revere and all that. This place probably had a wing stuffed with Revolutionary War relics.
They slipped inside, the cool air a balm after the muggy woods. The space was serene, its polished floors and tall shelves a stark contrast to the chaos dogging them. They’d made it, thank heavens. Though she wouldn’t relax until she was safely back in Shadow Cove.
Cici followed Asher to a computer room, empty this late on a summer afternoon. She settled on an upholstered chair by the window, and Asher plopped down in front of a computer.
“We made it.” She couldn’t help the tone of surprise, but very little else had gone right that day. It was nice to see a plan coming together.
His smile was slight as he set a cell phone on the desk. “Go ahead and call your dad.”
She inhaled a deep breath, finding a sense of peace in the quiet space, and dialed.
“Cecelia?”
“We’re at the public library in Concord.”
“Copy,” Dad said. “Car will be there in thirty. Stay with Rhodes and don’t do anything stupid.”
Thanks for the vote of confidence.
She wished she had the nerve to say that out loud.
She ended the call and went to the restroom to freshen up. Not that there was much she could do to improve her appearance. Her cheeks were blotchy, her eyes rimmed in red from crying and fatigue. Her hair was a frizzy mess after an afternoon in the moist summer air. She finger-combed it, then searched for a hair band, feeling triumphant when she found one. She pulled her mop of hair into a ponytail, then rubbed lipstick on her lips.
Didn’t help.
She gave up and returned to the computer room, where she peeked over Asher’s shoulder. He was scanning a website. She picked up enough to see he was studying Philadelphia crime.
“What are you looking for?”
“Trying to figure out who’s after you. The murderer is obviously connected, and he has wicked resources. I thought maybe he’s organized crime, but I can’t find…” He huffed a breath and powered up one of the phones—he insisted on carrying them all, the control freak. He said nothing else to Cici, but a moment later, he spoke into the phone. “It’s Rhodes. I need a contact, preferably a Fed who can tell me about organized crime in Philadelphia. Better yet, if you can get a list…”
He listened for a minute, then said, “Yeah, email it.” More listening, then, “I’ll fill you in later. Suffice it to say, these guys are resourceful.” Asher ended the call, powered off the phone, and stood. “You ready to move?”
She checked her watch. “We have twenty minutes before the car will be here.”
He crossed to where she’d been sitting earlier and looked outside. He said nothing for a long beat, but she could tell by the intense look on his face that he was cooking up something.
“What?”
His gaze flicked to hers but didn’t hold. “We’re not taking your father’s car.”
“Why? I just called him. He’ll kill me. He already thinks?—”
“I should’ve told you, but I didn’t want him to suspect.”
“What are you talking about? You don’t trust my father now?”
