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Sam considered Sharlene’s personality. “Maybe. If she was cornered and thought she’d lose everything, she might. But she’d try to escape first. I’m sure she’s got anonymous bank accounts in safe havens without extradition treaties and pre-planned escape routes. But I also can’t see her staying in those countries for long. She’d want more luxury than most of them would allow. I don’t think she speaks anything but English, either. Maybe enough French to order at a restaurant.”
“Money buys translators. Andorra, between Spain and France, doesn’t have an extradition treaty. She could live there in luxury, but it’s expensive. Morocco is another possibility, and it’s a lot cheaper.” He waved a hand above the wheel. “But chasing her down isn’t my problem. I’d rather keep her from running and get her to testify.”
“I’d be shocked, but maybe if she’s offered full immunity.” Which wouldn’t be right, but she’d be the lesser of two evils against the Bratva.
They drove north, through small farming communities and green fields of winter wheat, stopping in Grangeville. Finding a small, old roadside motel, they checked into a room with two queen-size beds and walked to a nearby restaurant for a surprisingly delicious meal.
After a quick nap, they changed into running clothes and jogged through the streets of the quaint town. If the mob had someone in Grangeville, Trevor’s running blade would be a dead giveaway. But Aviss told Trevor they were clear; there was no sign of the Bratva on their trail. But if they looked for the two of them along the route later, residents would recall Trevor easily.
When they returned, they stretched. Sam wrinkled her nose. “I need a shower.” She desperately needed to shave her legs. “But it’s going to take me a while. You can go first.” She glanced at Trevor.
“If you’re sure.” He shrugged and took his bag into the tiny bathroom. Twenty minutes later, he emerged clean-shaven, in a cloud of steam, plopping on the bed nearest the door.
Fortunately, the cheap hotel soap masked Trevor’s addictive scent. Sam took her time in the bathroom, luxuriating in the basic facilities. The hot springs had helped, but she needed soap, shampoo, and conditioner. She partially dried her hair, then braided it so it would be wavy after it dried. She dressed, then joined Trevor in the room.
He closed his laptop. “I need to do some digging online. We passed a library; let’s see if they’re open.”
Sam grabbed her bag. “Even if they’re not, I bet their Wi-Fi is available. The Marcus library leaves theirs enabled so people can use it after hours.” The library was next to her office with a vehicle or two usually parked nearby. Often, it was obvious the owners were living in them.
“Great point. We’ll take the Jeep.” He glanced around the room. “Don’t leave anything you can’t afford to lose. It’s unlikely, but if we’re spotted, we’ll run. A hotel within a day of Marcus is a risk.”
Sam nodded and retrieved her toiletry kit but left her running clothes hanging over the shower rod. She’d rather not lose them but didn’t want to pack wet gear in the vehicle, either. If they were using credit cards tomorrow, maybe she could buy more. But if they had to run, they’d use cash. She joined Trevor at the Jeep and threw her bag in the back. “Our lives are strange.”
Trevor put the Jeep in drive. “That they are.” He drove slowly through town, finding the library quickly. Since it was closed, he pulled up in front, rather than finding a space. The Wi-Fi worked; another car pulled into the lot shortly after they did, the glow of a device lighting the face of a teen girl.
After connecting to Trevor’s secure network, Sam downloaded her work and personal email. Then she checked the office voicemail. “Sam, it’s your mother. Your father is furious that you’ve brought government people to our door. Please call immediately.” Her mom’s voice shook. She dropped her head back against the seat.
“Did I hear that right? Your father is mad because the FBI is warning him rather than angry his daughter is being targeted by the Russian mob? Wow.” Trevor shook his head. “I thought my family was bad. Yours is horrifying. I’m sorry, Sam.”
“Yeah, that’s my life.” At least she hadn’t lost a leg, but Trevor wouldn’t want that kind of sympathy from her. She sighed. “Do I call or wait?”
“Don’t call.” He reached over the console and squeezed her hand. “Aviss is watching, so the only thing you can do is get yelled at. And the Bratva might be monitoring your parents’ phone line, so we’d chance getting found a little too early.”
“Good, because the last thing I want to do is listen to my father bellow.” Sam closed her laptop. “And that’s all that would happen.”
Trevor closed his laptop and turned off his phone, shutting down the virtual private network. “Let’s get some sleep. Then we’ll get on the road, bright and early.”
Sam put her laptop in her bag. No matter how much she hated her family’s lifestyle, she didn’t hate them. But she also had no reason to tolerate her father’s abuse. Suddenly, all she wanted to do was run and keep running. But she had a job to do and duties to fulfill. People depended on her; she couldn’t abandon them. And she wouldn’t.
Chapter sixteen
After a decent night’s sleep, they packed up the Jeep. At Trevor’s direction, Sam drove to the western-most gas station in Grangeville and filled the tank using her credit card. They found a coffee shop for breakfast and logged on to the shop’s Wi-Fi. Their actions might be a little too obvious, but hopefully, they would seem semi-desperate instead, and lead the bad guys away.
Sam drank her coffee, smiling with obvious pleasure at the taste, then held the cup between her hands. “I made that Amazon order you wanted. One charging cable, delivered to a locker in Bend, Oregon. I used the same credit card and forwarded the order to you, then deleted the email from my sent items. And emptied my trash. Let me know if you need more.” Sam closed her laptop.
“Perfect.” He found her email and sent it to Aviss, along with a note that they’d used Sam’s credit card this morning. He followed that with the results of his analysis. He hadn’t found any smoking guns, but there were a few strings Aviss could pull. That, plus the surveillance on Sharlene Murphy, might get them enough for a bank investigation or a search warrant for Murphy’s house and office. But the chances were low.
Closing his laptop, he packed it and drained his coffee. “Ready to get out of here?” He picked up the bag with their lunch, ordered with breakfast.
“Yup.” Sam’s long, dark hair was in kinky waves, and she’d pulled a maroon Montana Grizzlies stocking cap onto her head. She wore a matching sweatshirt with black leggings and the stained tennis shoes she’d worn in the hot springs. With the heavy makeup, she looked very different than attorney-at-law Samantha Kerr. She led the way from the coffee shop and got in the driver’s side of the Jeep.
She hadn’t asked, so she must have seen him limping. Too much time in a vehicle, not enough running and stretching. He opened the map book. “Drive west, then turn on County Road to the airport. We’ll drive by that, then wind back to Highway 13.” She followed his directions, and soon, they rolled alongside the south fork of the Clearwater River. In Kooskia, they filled the tank, and Trevor took the wheel.
After passing Kooskia, Trevor pulled over at a viewpoint of the Clearwater River. They both switched hats and hoodies. “It’s only a couple of hours to Lolo, so let’s do the tourist thing. We’ll stop at all the points of interest, maybe hike a little even. Then we’ll pull into a campground and fix dinner, then drive on. That way, we can roll into Lolo at dusk, making it even harder to see us. Aviss sent me an address for a safe house. We’ll meet with both of our parents tomorrow.”
Sam’s lip curled. “Yay.”
Dread curdled his breakfast. “I’m not looking forward to it either.” He pulled on to the road and tried to immerse himself into his tourist role. The Clearwater was beautiful, and the road was fun driving, with lots of twists and turns. Plus, he had the best company possible.
