Page 9 of On the Chase
“A kidnapping?”
Everyone went still, the air thick with tension, until Jules broke it with a clap that made every single person in the hallway flinch. “Sorry. How would you like to see your room?”
Honestly, Kaylee would rather not see her room, since she could only imagine what it would be like. It was in this collapsing house of horrors, after all. Jules looked so desperately optimistic, however, that Kaylee couldn’t find it in herself to crush her hostess. Instead of allowing her true feelings to escape, she swallowed back all the emotion that had been building from the moment she walked into Martin’s basement room.
“Sounds good.”
Kaylee followed Jules to the base of the stairs, the kids close behind them. Since no one could see her face, Kaylee allowed her forced smile to drop. It probably just looked like she’d been baring her teeth anyway. Maybe once they’d shown her to her room, she could lock herself inside and have the shrieking, stomping, pillow-punching tantrum she’d been dying to have since her life had been stolen from her. The entire time Kaylee had been traveling to Monroe, Colorado, she’d been terrified. Everyone—from the gas station attendant to the woman in the next public bathroom stall—had been a potential associate of Martin Jovanovic.
A potential assassin.
Kaylee’s foot had just touched the first step when the front door swung open, startling her into turning. There, framed in the doorway, backlit by the afternoon sun, stood a cop with a police dog by his side.
Officer Jovanovic’s face flashed in her mind, and her head spun with instant panic. That had been so fast. She’d just arrived at the supposed safe house, and Martin had already found her. Kaylee grabbed at the banister to catch her balance. Her fingers felt thick and useless, but she managed to grip the wood. She braced, waiting for the shouting, for the cop or the dog to tackle her and handcuff her and put her in the squad car and drive her who-knew-where to her grisly death. Everything in front of her went gray.
“Viggy!” Dee ran to the dog, petting him as he pressed his head into her stomach. The cop smiled down at them.
Jules brushed by her as she headed for the cop. Kaylee sucked back a protest, wanting to scream for her to run, not to get closer, not to grab his hand and smile up at him in greeting.
Kaylee squeezed her eyes closed and then opened them again, but the scene in front of her didn’t change. Jules and the cop were still making googly eyes at each other. Kaylee could almost see the cartoon hearts circling the pair. He didn’t look like a cop on a mission to hunt down Martin Jovanovic’s enemy. He looked like a guy in love.
Martin hadn’t sent him here. She wouldn’t be hauled away in handcuffs…not now, at least. As the realization sunk in, her panic retreated enough for her to pull in a shaky breath. Blinking several times, she managed to clear her vision, and her grip on the banister eased.
The officer looked at Kaylee, and his expression hardened. The muscles that had just relaxed ever so slightly stiffened again.
“Who are you?” he barked.
Her heart thundered in her chest, and she swallowed.You’re ready for this, she reminded herself firmly. She’d repeated the name and backstory over and over to herself for hours as she drove across deserts and mountains. “Grace Robinson.”
“Where are you from?”
“Most recently? Bangor, Maine.”
“Why are you here?” The kids’ heads turned with each question and answer, following the exchange like they were watching a tennis match.
“Theo,” Jules broke in firmly. “Stop interrogating her. She’s not one of your suspects. Grace was my friend in high school. She’s going to stay here for a while.”
For a brief moment, his too-intense gaze left Kaylee—not Kaylee, she thought for the umpteenth time,Grace—and landed on Jules. Grace took the opportunity to suck in a few long breaths and try to quiet her shaking hands. Too soon, that laser focus was locked on her again.
“Why don’t you have an accent?”
“What?” Accent? Did people from Maine have an accent? Mr. Espina had let her choose her pretend city of origin, and Kaylee had chosen Bangor because it seemed like a nice place, a peaceful place. She hadn’t realized there was an accent.
“You went to high school with Jules.”
“Yes.” The word came out slowly. Kaylee felt like she was stepping into a trap.
“In Arkansas.”
Oh! That accent!“Just for a few years. My parents moved around a lot.”
“Military?”
“No.” Kaylee didn’t have enough knowledge about the different military branches and rankings and everything else she’d be expected to know to pull off that lie. “They were just restless.”
“Restless? Is that another term for avoiding arrest?”
“What? No!” She couldn’t believe she was offended for her imaginary parents. Her real mom had lived in the same horrible basement apartment for twenty-four years until she died of liver failure five years ago. Grace hadn’t known her real dad. “They didn’t do anything wrong.” Neither had she, but she was paying for Martin Jovanovic’s sins. A new surge of rage filled her, and she shoved it back. She could have her pillow-thumping tantrum later. Right now, she needed to focus on not making the cop suspicious…well,moresuspicious than he already was.
