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Moe nodded and started running after the wanker up ahead.
TWENTY-NINE
Three hours later
Emit’s ranch
Parker stirredfrom the depths of sleep, a droning noise filling her ears. At first, she feared she’d passed out again, the concussion causing the sound. She sat up too fast, a tight sensation in her gut.
“Easy there,” Beatrice said, rising from a chair. “Everything’s under control.”
Vivi circled the bed to the other side. “You’re at the ranch. You’re safe.”
In a span of a heartbeat, she took in the room as everything came back in a rush. She’d been treated by Emit’s doctor for her wounds. She’d refused the pain medicine. The side effects from the concussion had faded, and although she needed rest, she’d fought sleep. Unfortunately, her exhausted body had the final say, and as soon as she’d been situated in the room, she’d succumbed.
“Where’s Moe?” Her voice came out rough. She cleared her throat. “Did Rory find him?”
Beatrice poured her a glass of water. “They’re on their way. Should be here in a few minutes. How do you feel?”
Like absolute shit, and even that was a step up from what she’d experienced at the cabin. Not just the physical pain, but the emotional gut job, watching Moe’s reaction to Lori’s story. “I’ll live. Bring me up to speed.”
Vivi gestured at the cup. “Like we said, everything’s under control. You need to rest and rehydrate.”
She downed the cool liquid. “I don’t doubt that, but you can’t expect me to lie in this bed and do nothing with Romalov on the loose.”
Beatrice retrieved a computer tablet from the chair and handed it to her. The droning sound had been her and Vivi talking, and that was as much a relief to Parker’s mind as the water was to her parched throat. Jaxon, their resident MD, could do a brain scan when she got to HQ, but for now, she intended to run on the assumption there was no permanent damage. Just some lingering pain on the crown of her head. That, and the leg wound, would heal in a few days.
Accepting the device, she scanned the screen as Beatrice spoke. “He didn’t go back for the van, which is good, because the CIA would have captured him. He had a dirt bike stashed half a mile from the mine, though, and he’s on that as we speak, heading north.”
“Only one? He planned to leave his team behind?”
“Doubtful. There are probably more bikes. We’re too short-staffed to check.”
“How do you know about his?”
“The watch picked up the motor noise,” Vivi said, “and Rory has already classified what type it is, its maximum speed, the whole works.”
That didn’t surprise her. She watched the red blip blinking in and out on the map. “How’s Lori?”
Beatrice touched the screen and it switched to a photo and background report of the woman. “Lorene Miller, born and raised in West Virginia, completed a bachelor of arts in political science at the age of twenty-one and went to work for the CIA two years later. Her story holds water. Rory intends to dig into her files, but at this moment, I want him to hold off. Flynn doesn’t know she’s with us, and for now, I think it’s best for her and Moe that they don’t.”
“It’s best for all of us.” There were so many questions Lori needed to answer. “So sheishis birth mom?”
Vivi walked to the window and glanced out. “She submitted a blood sample and Emit’s contact at a local lab is putting a rush on the DNA analysis. It will be twenty-four hours before we know.”
“He looks like her.”
Vivi rested her butt on the window ledge. “The brain can play tricks on us, causing us to see similarities in people’s faces. That doesn’t mean they are mother and son.”
Parker stared at the photo on the screen. “All due respect, my brain isn’t playing tricks on me. I may have taken a blow to the head, but the minute I saw her I knew she looked familiar.” She tapped the woman’s face with her fingernail. “It’s the eyes. Surely you see that.”
Beatrice withheld comment, extending her hand for the tablet. “The others are in the conference room going over possible escape routes that Romalov can take to get out of the country. I need to join them.”
Parker flipped back to the red dot moving on the map. It seemed so small, inconsequential, and yet it was the only thing they had tying them to Moe’s father, the mastermind behind all of this. She handed it to Beatrice and threw off the covers. Swinging her legs over the side, the IV line tangled with the sheet. Whatever cocktail the doctor was pumping into her, it had to have a boatload of potassium, because she felt like she had the energy of a fully rested linebacker. Her stomach growled, and Beatrice held up a hand to stop her but she shook her head. “I’m coming to the meeting.”
She didn’t miss Beatrice and Vivi sharing a worried glance, but she didn’t care. She’d been able to clean up and change into a T-shirt and yoga pants before the doctor had stuck her in bed with the IV.
“Parker,” Vivi said, pushing off the ledge. “You and I should discuss what happened.”
