A siren wailed in the distance, making us both flinch.
"We need to get back to the motel as fast as we can. I'm guessing the FBI move like lightening. They'll already be tracking down the plates on the car. It won't take them too long to find it. We need to be out of L.A. before they do."
Alex raised his hand, rushing to the street corner and hailing a taxi that was driving past. We bustled into it, clipping out the address.
"Can you hurry, please." Alex swallowed. "We're running late."
The driver nodded, but didn't seem fussed by our urgency. He took his damn time winding through the streets, while Alex and I took turns subtly peeking out the back window, just waiting for those flashing lights to pull the cab to the side of the road.
Ten minutes later Alex was yanking money from his pocket and throwing it at the driver. We slammed the doors shut behind us and raced into the motel room.
"How'd it go?" Zach lurched from his seat the second we busted into the room.
"We've got to get out of here," I muttered, barging past him to start gathering up our stuff. Pulling the paperwork on the table into a scrappy pile, I started shoving it into the bag on the floor.
"Why? What's going on?" Zach's expression pinched tight as he watched Alex rush into the bedroom and scramble for his clothes.
"We had a little mishap," Alex called through the door. "Turns out one of our IDs didn't cut it."
"So you didn't get the evidence?" Elliot stood by the table, watching my frantic movements like a freaking statue.
"There was no evidence! It was destroyed! I knew it was all too good to be true. Shit!" I yelled as the zipper on the bag jammed.
"Here let me." Zach gently took it from my grasp.
"Elliot, go and get your stuff! Alex punched the guard and we had to make a run for it. We can explain the rest later, but right now we need to get out of town as fast as we can. Move!"
Elliot jumped to, nearly falling over as he caught his foot on the table leg.
Alex rushed back into the room, flinging his bag at the door before going into the next room to clear it out.
Zach finished fixing the bag, his calm demeanor freaking me out a little. Why wasn't he panicking like me? Did he not understand what we'd just done! If the FBI caught up with us we were in deep shit!
"I'll go check out." He grabbed our room key and headed for the door, stumbling on the frame as he left. I wanted to chase after him and pull him back into the safety of the room, but he was right. We couldn't just leave without paying. Well, we could, but Zach wouldn't be able to live with it. No, I was the only criminal in this relationship.
I cringed and headed into the bathroom, making sure it was clear of all our stuff. Snatching our toothbrushes into my hand, I shoved them into a ziplock bag, the sharp end of the toothpaste tube ripping a big hole in the side.
I wanted to curse and swear some more, fear pulsing through me in giant waves. Biting my tongue, I moved back into the main room, crashing into Elliot. We both staggered away from each, knocking our limbs on furniture.
"Shit! Sorry!" Elliot yelled at me before running a trembling hand through his hair. "How the hell did this happen?" He muttered, his gaze running with deep anguish. "This was my fault. I told you the evidence was there. That's what it said!"
"I know, but if it makes you feel better, the lady had to really search to find out what happened to it. So the information was buried pretty deep."
"But I screwed up the IDs as well."
I sighed, giving myself a second to breathe. "We chose the wrong guy. Agent Green no longer works for the FBI and they hadn't updated their website. It's not your fault. I should have made you triple check and dig a little deeper." Stepping towards him, I placed my hand on his upper arm and squeezed. "How would you have known?"
"By digging a little deeper. I shouldn't need you to tell me that. It's common sense," he mumbled.
"It's not your fault. Elliot, look at me." He finally flicked his gaze in my direction. "It's not your fault. Now get your ass moving and help us clear out this place. Rinse those glasses in the sink, I'll start wiping down surfaces."
We got to work, moving in a frenzied silence. I'm sure we missed stuff, our brains were too frazzled to take things analytically. All I could hope is that the motel staff cleaned this room sooner rather than later.
Zach returned, surveying us quietly before snaffling up the bags in silence and heading for the car. Alex insisted on driving in spite of the fact that his hands shook when he was punching the key into the ignition.
"Go slowly." I reminded him as he reversed out of the motel lot. "No one's chasing us."
"Not right now they're not."