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“I’ll come to you.” The radio went silent as they continued half walking, half running from the safe house. Her breath sawed from her lungs. She’d never been one for going to the gym but wished more than anything she’d taken up running or biking long before now.
Her lack of physical fitness was holding them back. The only good news is that the gunman hadn’t caught up to them.
At least, not yet.
“I see you,” Brock said through the radio. “I’m on your right.”
Steele turned to check both ways before crossing the street and heading to the right. When she saw the large SUV rolling toward them, she couldn’t hide her relief at getting off her sore feet.
Or her wariness.
When Steele opened the door, she climbed into the back seat. She sent Brock a narrow look. “What happened? How is it that the safe house you rented under your name was found?”
“I don’t know.” Brock’s expression reflected his regret and anger. “You never should have been found, Harper. Never.”
“It’s not Brock’s fault,” Steele said calmly. He turned to face her. “But I can see why you’re upset.”
“My feet are killing me, and I’m worried all this stress from running around will cause me to go into premature labor.” She couldn’t hold back her condemnation. Maybe it wasn’t their fault, but enough was enough already. “This can’t keep happening. You must have a dirty cop working for you.”
“Not on our team,” Steele said. “But you are right to raise the concern. It wasn’t that long ago that Reed Carmichael was targeted by a pair of dirty cops.”
Somehow, Steele’s tone calmed her ragged nerves. She momentarily closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. She needed to get a grip on her emotions. Yelling at these two men who have been risking their lives for her wasn’t helpful.
“Check the bag back there,” Brock said in a subdued tone. “I got your shoes, socks, and sweatshirt, along with some bandages and a disposable phone. I was heading back to drop them off before grabbing groceries when I saw the brown SUV.”
“I’m glad you did,” Steele said. “If you hadn’t, we may not have gotten away.”
“I’m not sure why I came back early,” Brock admitted. “I wasn’t going to, but then I missed the turn to the grocery store and just kept going.”
“I believe that was part of God’s plan,” she said. “Thanks for the shoes. They mean a lot.” Harper tried to smile. Her anger at Brock and Steele was misplaced. They were working for her, not against her.
“I’ll call Joe, let him know he really needs to come up with a safe house,” Steele said. “And we need to get a replacement vehicle too. Head to the closest rental car agency.”
“Will do.” Brock hesitated, then said, “Even if Joe can get a safe house approved, it will take time. We might want to consider finding a motel that will take cash.”
“We could go to the American Lodge,” Steele said thoughtfully. “I know Gary will allow us to pay cash. And he has security cameras.”
“I agree. That should work for the interim.” Brock gestured to the highway. “There’s a rental car agency up ahead.”
Harper wasn’t sure a rental car was necessary, then again, she hadn’t known about the GPS tracker on her sedan either.
“I think it’s strange that the gunmen haven’t swapped out the brown SUV for something less noticeable,” Brock said. “I’m not complaining, but they’ve been covering their bases really well except for that.”
“Good point,” Steele agreed. “I don’t suppose you got a license plate?”
“There wasn’t a front plate,” Brock said grimly. “Although I don’t think that’s against the law anymore.”
“Figures.” Steele sighed, then turned to look at her as she was opening a pair of socks. “Can you wait a few more minutes? We’re about to get a new car. We’ll take care of your feet at the motel. I want to make sure we use the antibiotic ointment on your blisters.”
She nodded, not willing to risk getting an infection. The pregnancy books she’d gotten from the library hadn’t mentioned pregnancy may lower a woman’s immune system, but she didn’t want to take any chances.
“Here we are.” Brock pulled into the parking lot. “Steele, stay here with Harper. I’ll be back in a minute.”
She tucked her purse inside the bag, clutching it to her chest like a lifeline. When Brock emerged from the building, holding up a key fob, she released her seat belt and pushed out of the back seat. Steele was there, offering a helping hand. She gripped it gratefully.
Walking gingerly, still holding on to the bag, she allowed Steele to escort her to their new vehicle. She wasn’t surprised to find they’d arranged for another black SUV.
Was there an unwritten rule that cops had to drive black SUVs?
