Elizabeth frowned as she glanced out the car window. Was there some reason he hadn’t shared with her that dictated the necessity of an alternate route? This wasn’t the way she usually drove to work.
“Agent Dawson.” She leaned forward to get a better look at him if he glanced her way in the rearview mirror. “Is there some reason we’re going this way rather than my usual route?”
“I can’t answer that, ma’am. I have my orders.”
Elizabeth leaned back in her seat, but she didn’t relax. She had known Agent Craig Dawson for more than a year. Some thing about his voice didn’t mesh with the man she knew. This was wrong some how.
“Agent Dawson,” she ventured hesitantly, “is something wrong?”
He glanced in the rear view mirror for the briefest moment and their eyes met. In that instant she saw his fear, recognized the depth of it.
“I’m sorry, Dr. Cameron,” he said, his tone hollow, listless. “They have my family…they’re going to kill them if I don’t do what they tell me. Please believe I didn’t have any choice.”
Terror tugged at Elizabeth’s sternum. They. He had to mean the people who worked with David…the ones to whom he’d sold out his fellow agents.
Her heart bolted into panic mode.
Was he taking her to them?
Or did he plan to kill her him self…in order to save his family?
She moistened her lips and marshaled her courage. “What’re you supposed to do, Agent Dawson?”
His uneasy gaze flicked to the rear view mirror once more. “I have to deliver you to the location they specified. That’s all.” He looked away. “God, I don’t want to do this.”
“We should call Agent Stark.” She rammed her hand into her purse, fished for her cell phone. Her heart pounded so hard she could scarcely think. “He’ll know what to do.”
Where was her phone? She turned her purse upside down and emptied the contents. She always put it back in her purse before going to bed after allowing it to charge for a couple of hours.
“We can’t do that, ma’am.”
The full ramifications of the situation struck her. He’d taken her cell phone. His family was being held hostage.
Agent Dawson was no longer her advocate.
“Stop the car, Agent Dawson.” Her order sounded dull and carried little force, but she had to try.
His defeated gaze met hers in the rear view mirror once more. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, Dr. Cameron.”
Panic knotted in her stomach, tightened around her throat. She steeled her self against it, mentally scrambled to consider the situation rationally.
Her movements slow, mechanical, she picked up her belongings one item at a time and dropped them back into her purse. The lip balm she always carried. Hairbrush. Keys. Her attention shifted back to the keys. They could be useful. She tucked the keys into the pocket of her blazer.
She glanced up to make sure Agent Dawson wasn’t watching her, then sifted through the rest. Ink pen. Another possible weapon. She slid it into her pocket as well. With nothing else useful, she scooped up the rest and spilled it into her bag.
Okay. She took a deep breath. Get a clean grip on calm and keep it. No matter what happened she needed to keep her senses about her.
She was a doctor. She’d been trained to maintain her composure during life-and-death situations. This was basically the same thing.
Only it was her life on the line.
Searching for a serene memory to assist her efforts she latched on to the sensations from last night. Smells, tastes, sounds of pleasure.
She clung to the recollection of how Joe’s skin had felt beneath her palm. The weight of his muscular body atop hers. She trembled as the moments played in her mind. Their bodies connected in the most intimate manner.
But most of all she held on to the last words he’d said to her…he loved her. He hadn’t needed to utter those exact words, the message had been clear.
Whether she lived through this day or not, she could hold that knowledge close to her heart. She wished she had told him how she felt. Even if it was a mistake, he’d deserved to know. How was it that fear for one’s life suddenly made so many things crystal clear?
She did have deep feelings for Joe. If she were to tally honest with her self she would have to say that she loved him. She would also have to admit that it was, with out question, a huge mistake. But, under the circumstances, that point seemed moot altogether. Elizabeth turned her attention back to the passing landscape. She needed to pay attention to their destination. That ability was another thing that no doubt spelled doom for her. Didn’t they always blindfold hostages in the movies so they wouldn’t know where they were taken? Further proof that the outcome for her would not include a dashing hero and a last-minute escape. She would know too many details to risk her survival.
All the more reason to be prepared.