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Finally, it was her turn. She quickly filled out the withdrawal slip, hands trembling slightly.Don’t think about the money. Just focus on Kellen.
The teller frowned at the slip. “This is gonna require approval from the manager,” she said. “We’ve got a coffee station in the back corner. Why don’t you grab a cup and I’ll have Jeanine help you as quickly as she can.” The woman glanced at the silver-haired lady at the desk in the glass-fronted office. “She’ll be off the phone in a sec.”
Jane nodded, tamping down her anxiety as she stepped away from the counter. A few more minutes wouldn’t hurt. But more caffeine would. She headed for the couch, ignoring the beckoning scent of fresh coffee. The teller was as good as her word. In less than five minutes, the manager approved the withdrawl.
The teller counted out the money, neatly piling it in three ten thousand dollar stacks as she worked. Jane tried not to think about how long it had taken to save it up. Kellen was worth it.
The phone buzzed in her pocket, jolting her nerves. She glanced at the message, her pulse skyrocketing.
Hurry up. Time’s ticking.
She clutched the camera bag tighter. Pete’s impatience only fueled her own anxiety, and she couldn’t help but worry about what would happen if things didn’t go according to plan.
The teller passed her the stacks of bills. Jane stuffed them into the camera bag and headed for the exit, relief washing over her. Now to get her boy back.
Head down, she pushed through the bank doors. The morning sun momentarily blinded her. She blinked against the harsh light and hurried down the sidewalk toward her car.
Just as she grasped the door handle, a familiar voice called out. “Jane? Hold up.”
She whirled around to see Bridger striding towards her, concern creasing his brow. Her heart skipped a beat.
“What’s up?” His voice, as smooth and effortless as the ocean breeze drifting through town, caught her off guard. He gestured at her camera case. “Taking a day off?”
“Uh, just running an errand.” She forced a shaky laugh, trying to pretend a confidence she didn’t feel. The weight of the money inside was nothing compared to the burden of her secret. “You know, adulting. What brings you out here?”
He jerked a thumb at her store in the next block down. “Last-minute supplies for the team. You never know when you’ll need duct tape and zip ties.”
Her brain buzzed too hard to form words. She arched her brows.
“Never a dull moment in our line of work.” He paused, studying her face. “Are you sure everything’s okay? You seem stressed.”
She swallowed hard; every instinct screamed to confide in him, to let him help her navigate this mess she’d landed herself in. But Pete was her problem to deal with—not Bridger’s. Besides, how could she reveal the truth about her ex-husband without feeling a deep sense of shame?
“Stressed? No, I’m fine. Just a busy day.”
His eyes lingered on her for a moment longer, concern etching itself across his handsome features. Then, with a shrug, he said, “Well, I should get going.”
“Sure thing. Good luck with your shopping.” A weak smile tugged at her lips.
As Bridger disappeared down the sidewalk, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d made a mistake not telling him the truth.
“Get it together,” she muttered, steeling herself for the confrontation ahead. “You’ve got this.”
Camera bag on the seat beside her, she pulled out of the parking spot, her knuckles white on the steering wheel. She couldn’t stop her mind from racing. Where was Kellen? Was he hurt? Afraid? The thought made her chest constrict.
Her phone buzzed again. Pete. She didn’t bother checking it, just pressed harder on the gas pedal.
4
Bridger’s mindraced as he pulled up to the team’s new headquarters. Something was up with Jane. He’d never seen her so evasive. The fleeting micro-expressions couldn’t be argued away. The way her eyes widened, and the infinitesimal tilt to her lips.
She’d lied to him. Flat out lied.
For once, he wished he wasn’t gifted with almost supernatural abilities to decode body language. Whatever her issues, they weren’t any of his business. At least unless she chose to confide her problems. Highly doubtful.
He focused on the property, trying to push her troubled gaze out of his mind. Nestled into a swale in the foothills below the majestic granite peaks of the Sierra, the old place had the privacy, and the space they needed. And it had excellent bones. Once they replaced the sagging roof and replaced the wood trim, the stone-walled main house would be a stunning––and easily defended––base of operations. To say nothing of the oversized barn and the six smaller housing units. One for each person on the team.
Including the missing Jason.
