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He held it toward her, and she managed to grab it. Swung it onto the rut in the road, then wiggled her fingers at him. “Now give me your hand.”
He hesitated for a long moment. Did he think she was going to shove him back into the ditch? Finally he extended his arm. She locked her hand with his, noticing that, even though he’d been out here almost as long as she had, his hand was still warm.
She stepped back into the snow between the two ruts in the road, then leaned backward as far as she could. Gripping her hand tightly, he managed to scramble up the bank until he stood on the road.
His shoes were wet. Crusted with snow and ice. His pants were soaked up to his knees.
She couldn’t feel her ears. And her hands were chunks of ice.
“We need to get in my car,” she shouted over the howl of the wind as she staggered through the rut to her car. Slid onto the seat, then unlocked the door for Wolf.
Before he even got inside, she turned on the seat warmer. He climbed onto the seat and slammed the door. Rested his head against the back of the seat. “Thank you,” he said quietly.
“For what? Helping you out of your car?”
He turned his head to study her. “For stopping to help me. You’re afraid of me. Your husband hired a hitman to kill you, and you have no idea who he is. Most people would have happily left me there. Figured they’d escaped a bullet.”
“We haven’t seen a single car on this road in more than an hour. Who knows how long it’ll be until someone comes along? If I’d left you there, you would have frozen to death,” she retorted.
“And solved your problem,” he said, his voice neutral.
She shifted into gear and began to creep along the ruts again. “I don’t know for a fact that you’re the hitman Jerry hired. Seems very suspicious that you showed up right after I overheard that bastard talking to the hitman. But I’m not going to sentence you to death on a suspicion.”
“That’s very lawyerly of you.”
She took her eyes off the road for a moment to glare at him. “It’s called being human,” she said. “Or is that something that’s trained out of FBI agents?”
She had to keep her eyes on the road, so she couldn’t study him. But after a long moment, he murmured, “No. The best FBI agents are very human.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said. She nodded to the heat vents in front of him. “Want me to turn up the heat so you can warm your hands?”
“Thanks, but I’m fine.” He glanced at her and smiled, and it made him look very human. And way too attractive. “The butt warmer in my seat is doing the trick. I’m toasty.”
She knew he wasn’t even a little toasty. He tried, but he couldn’t hide his shivering.
“Just before you went off the road, I thought I saw lights ahead,” she said. “It’s snowing even harder now, but we may be close to the mythical diner and motel.”
“You concentrate on driving,” he said. “I’ll watch for signs of food and shelter.”
Five minutes later, he said, “There! On the left. The sign says…” He frowned as he leaned closer to the windshield, as if that could give him x-ray vision through the swirling snow. “It’s a truck stop,” he said. “Pull in. At the very least, we can get something to eat. Something warm to drink. And they may have information about that motel advertised on the interstate.”
Nodding without taking her eyes off the road, she watched for a driveway. Finally saw lights illuminating a huge sign that promised food and bunks. “We made it,” she said.
“Maybe.”
* * *
“I’ll do my best,” Jerry said to the ominous Russian voice on the phone. “I should have the entire amount available for you soon.” Jerry punched the icon to end the call, then threw it against the wall. It clattered to the floor. Jerry stood up to pace.
Throwing the phone at the wall had been damn stupid. But he’d done a lot of stupid things lately. Starting with stealing from the Russians.
At least the files he had could save his ass. He hoped. The FBI would love to get its hands on those. He had names, contact information and the amounts of money he’d laundered for the Russians.
In the second file, he had the notes from his own investigation. Which businesses were generating the money he laundered for them. The Bratva’s chain of command. Pictures of executions the Russians had forced him to watch. As a warning.
Yeah, he could exchange those files for immunity from the FBI. Testify against those thugs and start life over with a new identity.
Time to set the plan in action.
