Chapter Six

Ballard leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes for a moment. When was the last time he’d enjoyed a solid, uninterrupted night’s sleep?

It was definitely before certain treacherous employees, who didn’t know the value of keeping their mouths shut, decided to poke around in matters that did not concern them.

When his eyes opened, his gaze immediately fell on the spot on the floor where Julia’s body had fallen. No blood. Brooks was good that way—a professional, efficient, somebody who did what needed doing without asking questions or allowing personal feelings to muddy the waters.

If only all his associates shared that professionalism.

He should’ve known Julia wasn’t the only weak link. And she was clever, too. He had to give her credit for that. A shame to lose such a brilliant mind, all because her brilliance hadn’t lent itself to self-preservation.

In the end, she hadn’t even come up with a solid reason for lurking in his office. Julia had not been a practiced liar since her excuse had been almost juvenile.

It was Claire who interested him these days. Having evaded him, Claire seemed to be somewhat better at lying, at least for now. She couldn’t run forever, not with so many eyes on her every move.

The knock at his office door didn’t come as a surprise. “Enter.” He sat up and straightened his tie while the door swung open and the pair he’d expected joined him. They stood before him, knowing better than to take a seat unless offered one.

He looked from one to the other, noting—not for the first time—how similar the men were in build and mannerisms, right down to their crew-cut hair. Both were men of few words, too, which suited Ballard. “Talk to me.”

Brooks and Masters exchanged a look that didn’t go far toward granting confidence. “There’s not that much to tell, sir,” Brooks said in his deep growl.

“Not that much to tell?” He blinked, looking from one to the other. Waiting for one of them to crack. People always cracked when pressed hard enough in just the right place. “How can that be?”

“She got away.” Masters remained with his hands clasped behind his back, but beads of sweat at his temple told a story of nerves...of cracking under them.

His blood pressure began to rise. He knew it from the telltale roaring in his ears. “How?”

“We don’t know.” Brooks lifted his thick shoulders. “I’m sorry, sir, but those are the facts. When the men entered the room, she was gone. She left her things behind, too.”

“The drive?”

“No, I’m sorry. They turned the place upside down.” As if that made it better.

Control. He took several deep breaths. His men waited, silent, probably wondering if and when he would explode in rage. How was the girl a step ahead of them? She was nothing! One single girl who all but faded into the background. He hadn’t recognized her face upon examining her ID badge and the photos compiled by his team after her escape. She might as well be no one, a nonentity.

Yet she’d managed to escape. Again.

“Why did she go to San Antonio Security?”

“I spoke to Arellano after the visit to their office but he didn’t have anything concrete about that.” Brooks exchanged another shrug with Masters. “They’re either good liars or they were telling the truth.”

“The truth being...?”

“That they didn’t know her.”

“It was probably a last-ditch effort on her part,” Masters added, eager to sound insightful and useful after delivering bad news. Ballard was not a man who took bad news easily. “One of the guys from the agency was on TV recently and it upped their visibility. Otherwise, they were all firm on not knowing her or anything about why she came in.”

“There’s no connection between her and the firm’s partners?”

“None that Arellano could find, and you know how thorough he is.”

Motivation would do that to a man. Find the right pressure point, and the impossible suddenly became commonplace. Ballard doubted the detective would leave a single stone unturned.

Though that certainty did little to help at the moment. There was still the problem of the girl, where she’d gone and whether she was receiving help. She had to be.

If ever there’d been a poster child for solitude, it was that girl. A lifelong loner. For her to reach out to anyone meant she was desperate. She knew the stakes. Her awareness, her watchfulness spoke of understanding as well.

There had to be an end to her resourcefulness.

Brooks cleared his throat. “What direction do you want Arellano and Fisher to take?”

“I want eyes on their office, these Pattersons. Ears on their phones, as well. Whether there’s any connection or not, now that she knows we’re able to find her, she’ll look for any port in a storm.” Masters nodded and left the office, presumably to pass the word to the detectives overseeing the police aspect of this unfortunate dustup.

“What next?” Brooks asked, standing at the ready. Ballard knew through experience that his right-hand associate was up for anything. No request was too large, nothing too far outside the realm of what he was willing to do—like for instance, the Julia problem.

Ballard tented his fingers beneath his chin, staring at the wall over the man’s shoulder, seeing the entire situation laid out before him. Like a chessboard, the pieces were already in play. He saw the various parts of Claire’s small, uneventful life. The people from her past whom his men were already watching in case she ran to them.

It wasn’t enough to wait for her to make a move.

She had to be forced into one.

Yes, it was all so clear. Put his pieces in place, wait for her to make one move after another. No matter what she decided, he would be ready.

A smile spread slowly as everything fell into place. “It’s time to turn up the heat under our target,” he decided. “Make it so she has nowhere to turn without being noticed. Remove whatever sense of security she still possesses.”

“And how do we do that?”

His smile widened. “Oh, that won’t be difficult.”

I T ONLY TOOK a second for Claire to remember where she was when she woke up the next morning. It took longer when a glance at the clock told her she’d been asleep for nearly thirteen hours.

Even before Julia’s murder, she hadn’t slept this soundly. One look at the man sleeping upright in the chair next to the bed told her why. Her subconscious had trusted Luke to protect her.

The way he’d always protected her.

She sat up, the bed frame groaning as she moved. In an instant, Luke was awake, his brown eyes trained on her.

“Sorry,” Claire whispered. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

It couldn’t have been comfortable sleeping in that chair, but he stood with no stiffness and with two steps, was at the side of her bed. Claire’s breath hitched in her throat. His eyes were serious, face drawn tight, but when he touched the back of her hand, the gentleness there made her head spin.

“Feeling better?” Luke drew his fingers back way too soon.

“Yes.” Her voice sounded funny. Did she always talk like she couldn’t pronounce words right?

“I’ll take Khan out and look for any problems. How about you take a shower?”

“Okay. Thank you.”

The hot water had her feeling somewhat human again. She didn’t linger, unsure of how long Luke would be gone.

She made a face as she put back on yesterday’s clothes. She’d gotten out with the computer drive and Khan.

And her life. She’d just have to be thankful enough for that.

She came out of the bathroom and found Luke standing at the window, peeking at the parking lot through the curtains.

Khan meowed at the sight of Claire, except he didn’t come to her. He rubbed against Luke’s legs.

“Wow.” Claire stared. “I’ve never seen him do that to anyone but me.”

“I got him some beef jerky from the gas station.” Luke’s smile made her stomach do a flip, despite her traitorous cat.

Claire kept on rubbing her hair with the towel, even though it had never been thick enough to take long to dry. Her hands just needed something to do.

“What now?” she asked.

The smile disappeared, his lips drawing into a thin line. “We keep moving. First, we’ll need to make a stop to buy some stuff.”

“Yeah, I’m going to need another change of clothes, if possible.”

“Me, too. And some other stuff. We can stop at a superstore. I have some cash.”

She grimaced. “I’m going to keep a list of what I owe you.”

“That’s really not necessary.”

“It is to me.”

He was already doing so much for her that she’d never be able to pay him for. Case in point, sleeping in a chair and watching over her so she could get the rest she needed. What was the price tag on that?

She would damn well pay back what she could. The idea that he possibly thought she was using him crushed her.

“Okay.” He nodded, his brown eyes still somber. “If it’s important to you, you can keep track and pay me back.”

“Thank you.”

He respected her feelings. That meant more to her than he could know.

He led her back out to his truck, opening the door for her. Khan jumped in and she climbed in behind him.

“Where are we going to go?”

Luke started the truck and pulled out of the parking lot. “I spent a lot of time thinking last night.”

While he was guarding her. “Thank you for letting me rest.”

He glanced at her briefly before turning his eyes back to the road. “You needed it.”

Her hopes sank. That wasn’t anywhere close to a romantic declaration, not that she’d been expecting one. But she needed to face the facts that maybe this attraction was completely one-sided.

“What were you thinking about last night?”

“Your best bet now is to go to the police.”

She flinched and turned toward the window. Would the cops even believe her?

She was about to argue her point when her stomach growled loudly, the sound filling the cab.

“Hungry?” He looked over at her again, one eyebrow raised. “Let’s get something to eat and we can talk about this more.”

A few minutes later, he slowed the truck and turned into the parking lot of an old-timey diner.

The place, full of shiny countertops and red vinyl booths, felt warm and inviting. Khan had to stay out in the truck, but the weather was mild, so they left the windows cracked and the cat sleeping on the floor.

“Over there.” Luke headed for the booth in the far corner, by the kitchen.

He waited until Claire slid in, then took the booth facing the door.

“Going to the police makes sense...” He trailed off as a waitress approached.

“What can I get you two today?” The older woman smiled at them both.

Luke didn’t even look at the menu. “Whatever your most popular dish is. And coffee.”

“Same,” Claire said. “Please.”

“All righty.” The waitress collected the menus. “Eating the same dish. What a cute couple.”

Claire could feel the heat crawl up her cheeks, but Luke didn’t even seem to notice the comment. The second the waitress was gone, he rested his arms on the table and leaned into them.

“The police can help. You witnessed a murder.” He kept his voice low. “That means there’s a body somewhere.”

Claire choked on her breath. “But what if they don’t believe me? I don’t have the footage of Julia’s death with me; I had to hide it on Passage Digital’s servers. It’s possible Ballard found it and deleted it.”

She dropped her gaze to the table. Talking about this was so hard.

He reached over and grabbed her hand. “I’ll be honest, that could be true, and if it is, Ballard might not be convicted. But if you go to the police, show them what you have about the Gouda app and tell them Julia was killed...it throws a lot of suspicion in Ballard’s direction.”

“But what if they don’t believe me?”

They were interrupted by the waitress bringing their coffee, and Claire was glad to have the distraction. She wasn’t sure if going to the police was the best plan or not.

Luke took a sip of his steaming brew. “Why didn’t you go to the cops as soon as you got out of the building once Julia was killed?”

She stirred creamer into her coffee, then brought it up to her lips. “My head wasn’t on straight. All I could think about was getting to Khan and getting him out before they got to him. Plus, the police were always the enemy when we were kids.”

His eyes narrowed behind his cup. “You had run-ins with the police?”

“No, not me.”

Awareness dawned. He leaned back in the seat. “I had run-ins and filled your little head with stories about the big bad officers of the law.”

She shrugged. “I guess it tainted my opinion. I’ve never trusted cops.”

“You know that was just me talking fourteen-year-old smack, right?” He shook his head. “Not a single police officer who picked me up when I ran away ever did anything to harm me. Most of them got me some food and tried to talk to my sullen ass, not that it helped. Two of my brothers went into law enforcement for a while. I have the highest respect for them and the people they worked with.”

She sighed. “I should’ve gone to them first thing. It’s too late now.”

They were stopped again by the delivery of their breakfast platter, though Claire had lost her appetite.

He bit into his scrambled eggs, then pointed to her plate with a piece of toast in the other hand. “Don’t even think about not eating that.”

He was right. She had to eat. She took a bite of her eggs, then continued to eat as he watched her like a hawk while wolfing down his own food.

He was completely finished before she’d even made it halfway through her meal—except for the piece of bacon he’d put in his napkin. She knew it was for Khan and tried to ignore the things it did to her heart that he was thinking about the well-being of her cat.

“The most important thing is to keep you alive. The people after you—they have instructions to make sure you’re not alive to talk to anyone.”

She handed him a piece of bacon to add to the collection for Khan.

“Going to the cops and raising as much ruckus about this as possible will make it harder for Ballard’s men to take you out without causing suspicion,” he continued. “Ballard is powerful, but he’s not God.”

She lifted her fork to her mouth but then set it back down without eating. There was no way she could keep it down. She wanted so badly to believe what Luke was saying.

“I’ll stay with you through it all. I’m here to help you.” He reached over and grabbed her hand, running his fingers across her knuckles.

Tears filled Claire’s eyes. “Thank you. I’ll do it. But are you sure? This is so dangerous.”

“It’s nothing I’m not used to,” he said with zero hesitation.

Claire’s laugh was ragged. She seriously doubted his workday involved running from men with assault weapons.

“You came to me for help. This is my job. And besides, it’s you.”

She didn’t have the nerve to ask what that last part meant.

She looked at what was left on her plate. “I wonder if Khan would eat the eggs. He’s not very picky. We could get a to-go box.”

Luke smiled. “Khan’s a very lucky cat-dog.”

“He’s my family. My only friend.” She cringed at her pathetic words, immediately wishing she could take them back.

“That’s not true.” Luke’s brown eyes softened, but they turned to steel a second later. His thick brows knit together, his attention on something behind her.

Turning in the booth, Claire found the TV screen mounted on the diner’s wall. It was on mute, captions scrolling the bottom of the screen while a reporter talked.

She gasped when she saw the picture in the upper corner of the screen.

It was her .

The shot was from a Passage Digital picnic a few months earlier. She wouldn’t have gone at all if it hadn’t been basically required .

Wanted for the murder of coworker...

She couldn’t stop reading the caption running under her photo.

Authorities are asking for anyone with information on Claire Wallace to contact them immediately...

Claire’s mouth filled with chalk, the food she’d eaten threatening to come back up.

“Come on,” Luke gritted out in a low voice. “We need to get out of here.”

Nobody in the diner was paying much attention to the TV or them, but all it would take was a second and they might.

“I-I...” Oh no. She was going to lose it right there in this booth.

“Look at me, Kitten.”

His words, his brown eyes, brought her back. Grounded her. “We’re going to make it through this. Keep your head down and stay close to me.”

They stood and he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. He handed her the bacon in the napkin.

Each step to the exit was a nightmare. Several people glanced at the TV between bites. Had they noticed her? Had anyone called the police?

She leaned into his chest, breathing in his scent.

“That’s right. Just act like there’s nowhere else you’d rather be than cuddled close to me.”

No acting necessary.

She felt his lips against her hair. “We’re going to make it through this,” he repeated before paying and ushering her out the door.

She felt frozen, even though the fall air was mild.

Making it through this seemed impossible now.