The Past Between Us. Kimberly Van MeterЧитать онлайн книгу.
soft chuckle. “What’s so funny? Surely you don’t expect me to manage the bathroom without the use of my hands.”
“I’m sure you’ll manage. Get creative,” he said, getting out of the car. He had a feeling Cassi could manage just about anything she put her mind to in her present occupation. According to her file, she was a chameleon. She melted into her surroundings and took on a persona flawlessly. One thing that bothered him the minute he picked up her file was something that he had no business wanting to know but he did anyway…why did she stick to the East Coast? She would’ve stood a better chance at evasion if she’d skipped to the West, but she’d stayed within a certain area, almost as if she were following a pattern. Didn’t make sense for someone who was just looking to rip people off. That’s the part that bothered him. Or maybe he was just loath to believe that the girl of his memory had truly turned out bad.
He walked her to the restroom and she gave him a scowl for not accommodating her desire to free her hands but he didn’t trust her. Besides, he wouldn’t trust anyone in this position. She was in his custody, not a date.
“I’ll be waiting,” he said.
“Fabulous,” she muttered and kicked the door shut. He had no doubt she was imagining that it’d been his head.
CASSI PACED THE GRIMY FLOOR of the rest stop bathroom, her bottom lip scraping against her teeth as she wondered how to get out of this situation. She found it vaguely disturbing that Tommy had seen right through her. She’d have to be more careful—that is if she couldn’t manage to ditch him. There was a sharp knock at the door and his muffled voice told her to hurry up.
She narrowed her stare at the warped and ugly door then dropped her gaze to the floor, looking for something to pick the lock on the cuffs. She found a broken pen in the corner, nearly covered by a sopping paper towel. She tried not to think too hard about where that pen had been in a previous life. By the looks of the floor, it was nowhere pretty. She broke off the metal clip and worked it into the small hole for the cuff key.
Another sharp rap caused sweat to bead her forehead even though it was freezing in the cramped bathroom. “Gimme a minute,” she yelled. “A little privacy please!”
He grumbled something on the other side but didn’t try to come in. She thanked her stars for the smallest blessings and worked harder at freeing the lock. She’d practiced this before using a bobby pin but this was a bit trickier. Just as she was about to give up, the lock sprang and the cuffs slid open. She exhaled softly. She had to make it look as if she hadn’t messed with them so she clicked the manacles back on loosely, checking to make sure she could easily slide out of them. She risked a tremulous smile for her accomplishment but smothered it before walking out of the bathroom.
Tommy’s nose had reddened from the cold. He gave her a once-over and she held her breath as his gaze fastened briefly on her cuffs. When she lifted her chin and met his stare head-on he seemed satisfied that everything was as it should be. He took hold of her arm and walked her back to the car.
“Such a gentleman,” she quipped as he opened the door for her.
“Do you ever give that acid tongue of yours a rest? I see time hasn’t done much for your disposition.”
She glared. “Excuse me for not being a chipper little companion for your road trip.”
“Cassi, I’m just doing my job. Would you really rather have had someone else hauling your butt back? Because that can be arranged. All I have to do is make a call and someone else can be here and I can guarantee you they won’t give a rat’s ass if you have to pee or if you’re hungry. I’m just trying to make this as painless as possible but if you’re not interested in the kindness I’m showing you…just say the word.”
She swallowed and blinked back a sudden wash of tears. For a moment he was the Tommy she remembered. He’d always had a way of grounding her when she went a little crazy. He was that solid, calming influence that had kept her from losing herself in the ridiculous circles she often traveled. And what he was saying right now…well, she could see the logic of it. She supposed she was glad it was Tommy. Especially since someone else likely would’ve double-checked her cuffs after she exited the bathroom.
A twinge of regret filtered through her. But if he knew the whole story, she could almost bet that he’d understand.
The only problem? He wasn’t willing to listen to her side of the story. So was it really her fault that she was about to do what she had to do?
A part of her wished she could just sit down and show him the evidence she’d collected so far. He might even have valuable insights, maybe even dig out some leads she might’ve missed. A small ache spread across her chest and a pinprick of nostalgia, sharp and deadly, pierced her mind, dredging up memories that almost made her cry. She risked a look at Tommy, wondering if she should take the chance and tell him what she knew. But even as she searched his face for a clue as to which way to go, she knew she couldn’t tell him. He was an agent. His world was black-and-white. That was the world he knew and understood. And she’d be a fool to try to drag him into the chaotic mess that had become her life.
Once she took her seat, he said, “I’m going to go pay for the gas. Don’t touch anything.”
“I’ll try to restrain myself,” she said, but adrenaline had already started to flow through her veins. He’d taken the keys but there was another skill she’d picked up on her travels…
Keys were unnecessary.
THOMAS PUSHED OPEN THE scratched and dull glass door of the convenience store and it took him a full second to realize what he was seeing—or more specifically—not seeing.
His car.
And his prisoner.
Somehow, cuffed and without keys, she’d stolen his car.
He muttered a stream of swear words that would’ve earned him a bar of soap back in the day and shoved the packaged salad and three different choices of dressing he’d purchased for her into the trash.
If it were possible, he could almost see the steam rising from his ears into the chill air. In glaring detail he knew where he’d screwed up. He hadn’t checked her cuffs after she’d emerged from the bathroom. Somehow she’d gotten them loose. He’d made sure they were tight when he put them on, which meant she’d sprung the lock when she was out of sight and banked on the fact that he would be distracted by her in general. And she’d banked right.
The weight of his keys resting in his pocket told him that she’d hot-wired the car. Shit. His cell phone was in the car but he had his wallet, badge and gun. He had two choices: Call it in and have an APB put out on her but risk the ridicule of every one of his peers as well as the ire of his superior. Or he could just go after her.
Like there was a choice.
He spied a pay phone and strode to it. He lifted the receiver, swiped his ATM card and punched in his cell number. He doubted she’d answer but if she did, he had an earful for the runaway, former society girl. The phone rang four times before transferring to his voice mail. He hung up and stared at the road where she’d disappeared. Whatever tender nostalgic feelings he’d had for her withered and died.
This time when he caught her—he’d show no mercy.
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