Daniel was quietly watching the back-and-forth again.
“Look, Oleander, I have had training. A lot. No one is going to catch me watching and I will see more than you will. I have a place to stash Daniel where he’ll be totally safe, so that’s not an issue. And if you’re right, and this Carston guy goes running to his coconspirators, he’ll show me who in the Agency thought this up. I’ll see who put Danny in danger to get to me. Then I can clean up my problem and you can clean up yours.”
She thought it through, trying to be objective. It was hard to keep her dislike for Daniel’s brother from coloring her analysis. That dislike wasn’t fair. Wouldn’t she have felt the same way as Kevin if it were her sibling shackled to a table? Done the same things, insofar as she was capable?
But she still really wished she could inject him with something agonizing, just once.
“First of all, don’t call me Oleander,” she said.
He smirked.
“Second, I see what you’re saying. But how do we coordinate? I’ve got to go under for a while.” She pointed to her face.
“You owe her for that,” Daniel said. “If you have a safe place for me, maybe she should go there, too. At least until her injuries have healed.”
“I don’t owe her anything—except maybe another punch in the face,” Kevin growled. Daniel bridled and took a step toward his brother; Kevin held up his hands in an I surrender motion and sighed. “But we’re going to want to move quick, so that might be the easiest arrangement. Besides, then she can give us a ride. The plane’s a loss—I had to bail out on the way down. I had us hiking out of here.”
Daniel opened his eyes wide in disbelief. Kevin laughed at his expression, then turned to her with a smile. He looked at the dog, then back to her, and his smile got bigger. “I think I might enjoy having you at the ranch, Oleander.”
She gritted her teeth. If Kevin had a safe house, that would solve a lot of her problems. And she could spike his food with a violent laxative before she left.
“Her name is Alex,” Daniel corrected. “I mean, I know it’s not, but that’s what she goes by.” He looked at her. “Alex is okay, right?”
“It’s as good as any other name. I’ll stick with it for now.” She looked at Kevin. “You and the dog are in the back.”
CHAPTER 11
Once upon a time, when she was a young girl named Juliana, Alex used to fantasize about family road trips.
She and her mother had always flown on the few vacations they took—if duty visits to ancient grandparents in Little Rock actually qualified as vacations. Her mother, Judy, didn’t like to drive long distances; it made her nervous. Judy had often said that far more people were killed in car accidents than in plane crashes, though she was a white-knuckle flyer, too. Juliana had grown up unfazed by the dangers associated with travel, or germs, or rodents, or tight spaces, or any of the many other things that upset Judy. By default, she had to be the levelheaded one.
Like most only children, Juliana thought siblings would be the cure to the loneliness of her long afternoons doing homework at the kitchen table while she waited for Judy to get home from the dentist’s office she managed. Juliana looked forward to college and dormitories and roommates as a dream of companionship. Except, when she got there, she found that her life of relative solitude and adult responsibility had rendered her unsuited to cohabitation with normal eighteen-year-olds. So the sibling fantasy took a beating, and by her junior year she had her own small studio apartment.
The fantasy about a big, warm family road trip, however, had survived. Until today.
To be fair, she would probably have been in a better mood if her entire body hadn’t felt like one huge, throbbing bruise. Also, she had instigated the first argument, though quite unintentionally.
When she drove across the county line, she’d rolled the window down and tossed out the small tracker she’d removed from Daniel’s leg. She hadn’t wanted to carry it with her for long, just in case, but she also didn’t want to leave it right in the middle of her last base of operations. She thought she’d removed most of the evidence, but one could never be sure. Whenever she could muddy the trail, she took the time to do so.
In the rearview mirror, she saw Kevin sit forward.
He’d been able to retrieve a backpack he’d thrown from the plane when he jumped; now he and Daniel looked fairly normal in jeans and long-sleeved T-shirts—one black, one gray—and Kevin had two new handguns.
“What was that?” Kevin asked.
“Daniel’s tracker.”
“What?” Kevin and Daniel said together.
They spoke over each other.
“I did have a tracker?” Daniel asked.
“What did you do that for?” Kevin demanded.