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She wasn't ready for a follow up and blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "An infestation."
"Of the bounty-hunter phylum?" Elisa strolled out into the hall in that controlled, predatory way of hers with her head cocked to the left as she eyeballed Tamara. "Wanted for breaking and entering, not to mention kidnapping? You didn't tell us the law was after you when you hightailed it out of Idaho with your niece to escape her dad."
When would she learn? The truth always caught up with her in the end. "Taz and Bianca knew." She let the heavy go-bag drop to the floor as she stood in the doorway to her office. "It's not what it looks like."
"That's disappointing. Rescuing your niece from a David Koresh wanna-be seemed pretty badass to me."
Tamara didn't kno
w what to do with that—compliments that weren't related to how she looked were as foreign as Jupiter—so she ignored it. "I need to call Essie and warn her."
"And your phone isn't going to work."
For once, Tamara appreciated the other woman's ability to ferret out the unspoken details that mattered.
"It's not in my name, but I can't take the chance that Wolczyk is running the numbers of the phones used to call or be called by the B-Squad office. My number is on that list about a billion times. It'll stick out like a sore thumb. I could lead Jarrod to Essie."
The other woman walked over to the supply alcove filled with the regular office must-haves along with the items unique to an organization like the B-Squad.
"What you need is a burner." Elisa swiped one of several phones and held it out to Tamara. "Here."
"I can't use this." She gulped. She was only here until Essie's eighteenth birthday. After that Essie would be safe from the threat of Jarrod winning custody of her. Tamara knew she didn't belong. She wasn't part of the team. "They're B-Squad’s."
A rare smile instead of Elisa's usual smirk. "So are you."
Again, there were no words, so she took the phone. As the other woman retreated into her office, Tamara called the number she'd memorized but had never written down. It rang once. She hung up and dialed again. This time she held on for two rings before disconnecting. She punched in the number a third time. One ring. Two rings.
It stopped ringing.
Her heart climbed up into her throat.
"Hey Aunt T." Essie's chipper almost-a-grown-up voice came over the line. "What's up?"
The breath she'd been holding escaped and her internal organs shifted back into their normal position. "You answered without waiting for the special ring."
"You're paranoid," she said in the dismissive know-it-all way that was the hallmark of every teenager, and with one as smart as Essie it was even worse.
Tamara pinched the bridge of her nose to ease the rush of loving frustration steaming her from the inside out. "No. I'm not. There was a bounty hunter here today. That means your dad hasn't given up."
Dead air.
Finally, Essie let out a loud breath. "Shit."
She winced at the word. "Don't use that language." Not because she thought it was out of bounds but because her sister Amelia had always been so proper and restrained. She'd never cursed, not even when she'd been diagnosed with late-stage ovarian cancer. The least Tamara could do is keep her niece from sounding like a longshoreman. "And yes, shit."
"So I guess you weren't being overly cautious when you went back to Texas instead of staying here with me in Colorado."
That had hurt, like gnawing-off-your-own-limb pain, but Jarrod's only tie to Essie's location was Tamara and she couldn't be the weak link. Not again. This time she was taking her sister's advice. "Layers. It's important to have layers of safety."
"Okay, I get it."
The sad note in Essie's voice gutted Tamara. She'd give anything in the world to change it, but the truth was she couldn't. She didn't have the money to fight Jarrod in court even if he didn't have the local judges in his pocket. If only she'd put away some of her gold-digging profits instead of spending them on stupid shit like her hot pink overnighter. She kicked the bag hard enough that it slid under her desk.
"Es, we should be okay, but be on the lookout."
"Always. I'm like an owl on Ritalin."
Tamara stifled her chuckle at the image. "Don't let down your guard."
