Page 66 of Lone Star Country Protector
“In Houston,” Blakely responded.
Jules pushed to standing and started pacing again. “We can get there with some planning.”
“I’m sorry to be the one to say this considering I know how much you love your nephew, but you have to consider the possibility you’d be placing him in harm’s way,” said Dalton.
Right. Like Bethany.
Blakely bit out a curse. “What else am I supposed to do?”
“Catch this bastard so you can get your life back,” Dalton said. If only it was that easy.
What if this guy escalated? Then again, he’d tried to blow up her and a US marshal. How much further would this go?
“Chase is safe with his father,” Dalton said.
As much as she didn’t want to admit it, Dalton was making sense, whereas she was being irrational. Her emotions were at the wheel. Despite the couple hours of sleep last night, she was still bone-tired. Caffeine helped. Some. But she needed an IV of dark roast if she wanted to be alert and awake for the rest of the day.
“You make a good point,” she finally said to Dalton.
“My apartment might be the safest place for us right now,” he said.
That was true for them and everyone around them.
“I’m coming with you,” Jules said.
“Your plate is full already, taking care of Toby while being here for our grandparents,” Dalton said. “Grandpa Lor is awake now. He’ll need your support even more.”
Jules opened her mouth to speak but then clamped down on her bottom lip instead.
“I’ll have your truck swept before the two of you leave,” Jules said. “Are you sure it’s safe to go to your apartment? Because I can arrange a safe house to get you by until this blows over.”
Going to an unfamiliar place where there would be strangers didn’t exactly feel warm and fuzzy to Blakely. Not being able to go pick up Chase when she desperately wanted to be there for him was the hardest thing. Not being there for Bethany made her want to scream. What choice did she have? “It’s hard to kill someone you can’t find.”
Jules looked to Dalton, who gave a slight nod.
Okay, then. They were going to a safe house.
“I can get you near Houston,” Jules said as she retrieved her phone from her handbag. “How do you feel about Galveston?”
“Good,” Dalton answered.
“Okay, then I think I have a place for you to hang out that should keep you off the radar,” Jules said.
“While you’re getting a sweep done on my truck, maybe I can take one of the ranch vehicles instead,” Dalton said.
“No one should be expecting it,” Jules said. “Give me half an hour, and I’ll set everything up. In the meantime, dear brother, make sure you get clearance from the doctor to leave. Okay?”
He saluted. “Yes, ma’am.”
The next hour was a blur of activity as Dalton cleaned up and got dressed, nurses scrambled around getting him ready for release, and a doctor was summoned to give the final okay for him to be discharged. He’d been clear about his intention to walk out with or without the doctor’s permission. Waiting would get him in the least amount of trouble with his boss.
An apartment at The Waterfront on Bayou Shore Drive was arranged, and a ranch vehicle was parked at the side of the hospital. Jules would oversee the bomb sweep of Dalton’s truck, drawing attention there while he and Blakely slipped out the side door and to the waiting vehicle.
Dalton stared at his cell. “Johnny Spear has been arrested at Lake Texoma, where he was hiding in a fishing cabin with no contact to the outside world.”
“I’d started to move on from him as a suspect anyway,” Blakely admitted. “It’s good to know that I’m on the right track.”
“Have you considered the professor?” Dalton asked before they were interrupted by a thumbs-up from Jules. “Go time.”
