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She slouched down in her driver’s seat, heart suddenly racing. Had he seen her? What would she say if he had seen her, and even worse, approached her? What story could she tell him as to why she’d be out here of all places, and right now, of all times?
Luckily, his Harley rumbled straight past her and pulled into one of the gas pumps. She was parked a short distance away, her car facing away from the pumps, so if she kept slouched down the way she was in her Gray Girl car, there was little chance that Pony would see her.
Still, her heart was pumping like a jackrabbit’s until Pony got off of his bike and walked into the gas station. This was her chance. As soon as the door shut behind him, Piper started up her car and pulled out of the parking lot, forcing herself to do it at a reasonable, normal pace and avoid peeling out in an attention-grabbing squeal of tires.
Now that the immediate threat of discovery was over, Piper settled back into trying to figure out what Pony was doing with these bank robbers in the first place. As much as she hated to admit it, Pony had gone up that dirt road near the gas station for some reason. He was involved somehow. And she had to know how.
When she got to the dirt road, she saw that it was narrow, but not impassable for her little Jetta. All the same, she didn’t like the idea of driving up there. There was no way to know how long the road went, and she didn’t want to abruptly drive up on something that she couldn’t back out of easily. So she parked her car on the shoulder where the dirt road intersected with the asphalt, and moved out on foot.
She avoided the dirt road itself, sticking to the trees next to it. Close enough that she wouldn’t get lost, but far enough into the woods that she couldn’t be easily spotted.
Pretty quickly, she spotted the small cabin that sat at the end of the dirt lane. And three motorcycles, street racing bikes, that matched those of the bank robbers and the idiots from the street race the night before.
This was the place. No doubt about it.
She sat in the bushes and stared at the cabin. Three armed bank robbers were in there, along with the answers she needed.
Was Pony actually involved with this robbery? Was he not what he seemed to be? If Piper was being honest with herself, her interest in Pony was far more than professional. From the moment she’d walked into the MC clubhouse, she’d known he was entirely her type.
Was she just being foolish, having a crush on a bad boy she could never really be with? She was an FBI agent, exactly how was she supposed to make things work with an outlaw biker?
And yet, she couldn’t stop thinking about how he smiled so easily around her. How easily they meshed together in almost every situation.
That, and how he looked doing pushups on the bar with no shirt on. Not the worst visual a girl could endure.
“Either way,” she said to herself, and that was the answer. Either way, she had to know. If Pony was in on it, and the MC in on it as well, she had to know and had to do her job.
And if he wasn’t involved… then there were perhaps possibilities. But she had to know. And the only people who could tell her, were in that cabin.
She had to call it in. No two ways about it. But once these idiots were arrested, there would be no way for her to interrogate them, not without blowing her cover.
It had to be now. Before the local cops arrived and took these numbskulls to jail, and her answers with them.
Could she do it, though? Take all three on her own?
If she wanted her answers, she had to try.
The least she could do was get closer and get a better look. And if she saw an opportunity, she’d take it.
Another long stare at the cabin, and she said, “All right, then.”
She backed off, through the trees, back to her car, and got out her cell phone. Maybe it was a little reckless… hell, more than a little… to try to go in solo, but she still had to call this in before she made her play.
“This is FBI Special Agent Badge Number 37263,” Piper said once the 911 operator answered. “Three suspects from 211 at First Fidelity Bank in New Warrington are located in a cabin off a dirt road one mile from the gas station on Prospect Pike. Send immediate backup, suspects armed.”
“Confirm, 211 suspects at your location. Please identify yourself, Special Agent.”
No way, Piper thought. Not over an open line like this, where anyone could be listening. She needed backup, but she also needed to keep her cover intact.
All the same, she didn’t much like the idea of getting shot by accident by her own team. Piper had no idea who might be showing up to handle this. For all she knew, it might be a few very nervous, very new police officers who might let their nerves make them trigger happy.
“Be advised, female undercover on scene,” she said, and then hung up her phone.
That would have to do. At least the locals would know not to come in guns blazing, especially if they saw a woman in civilian clothes.
All the same, better safe than sorry. Piper moved around to the back of the Jetta and popped the trunk, pulling off her bulky sweatshirt as she did so. Under it, she wore nothing but a plain black T-shirt, with her gun holster on her right hip.
There was an old canvas duffel bag in the trunk, which she’d tossed in there before leaving the house. She unzipped it and rummaged around for a few seconds to pull out what she needed. Her dark blue Kevlar vest, tough enough to stop a .44 Magnum pistol round or a shotgun blast.
