Read Finish the Course (The Barnes Family Book 1) Online
Authors: Becky Riker
“They don’t yet,” he warned.
“So, I should shut it off?”
“Find an alternate route first and give me any points of interest along the way.”
“Such as?”
“Large parks, malls, bridges . . . car rentals.”
She laughed, “If you keep going south here, you’ll meet up with 95. That takes you past Oxon Hill Farm.”
“Which is?”
Hanbali had the answer to that, “They have walking trails and animals. Sometimes they do history reenactments.”
Slater smirked, “I’ll have to file that away for later use. How close do we get to Bolling?”
“Now you want to break
onto
a base?” Barnes was horrified at the thought.
“Just needing a point of reference,” he assured her.
“We’re a couple miles off.”
“So we pass over Woodrow Wilson?”
“Shortly.”
“Would you mind calling Hall for me?”
“Sure. You know his number?”
Slater rattled it off.
She tried to hand it to him after she dialed, but he waved her away, “Just ask him how his mom came through surgery, but don’t say my name.”
“I should just ask like that?”
“Yep.”
Hall answered, “Hall here.”
“How did your mom come through surgery?”
There was a pause, then, “She’s fine. All settled in.”
She covered the mouthpiece and repeated the words.
Slater reached for the phone, “You guys arrive okay?”
Hall had his own question, “Where in blazes are you?”
“I got a little caught up in something – can you tell ‘em I’ll be there ASAP.”
“You need help?”
“Not yet, but I’ll call back if things change.”
He flipped the phone shut as he crossed the bridge, “Entering DC now, ladies,” Slater spoke as though he was the pilot of a commercial jet announcing a landing. He lowered his voice at the end of his spiel, realizing Hanbali was asleep.
Anna smiled at him and shut off her phone, “Your men are okay?”
“They’re wondering where I am.”
“You were afraid someone had gotten to them.”
He nodded, “But they’re good so far.”
“Good to hear.”
He met her eyes in the mirror and smiled before his expression hardened, “I think we may have a tail.”
She didn’t dare glance at the vehicle in question, “How can you tell? We just crossed over a bridge.”
“It’s a cop.”
She looked, “What makes you think he’s following us?”
“Because he should be following us.”
“Suspicious much?”
“I’m still alive.”
“Can’t argue with that.”
“More bad news,” he informed her a couple minutes later.
“The cop has called all his buddies, and there’s a road block?”
“No. He’s disappeared, but we’re out of gas.”
“I have a few Afghani,” she offered.
“No American currency?”
“Maybe five bucks,” she admitted.
“I had some, but they took my wallet on base, and it wasn’t with everything else.”
“I’m surprised you only have one wallet,” she was just joking.
“I don’t, but there’s no American currency in this one.”
Anna laughed at her mistake, “Well, you’re welcome to what I’ve got.”
Slater shook his head, “I’m afraid that’s not good enough. Gas is almost five dollars a gallon, and I don’t know how far we’re going to have to go on it.”
He knew Anna was not going to like his next suggestion, but it couldn’t be helped.
“I’m going to need you to get out and ask the guy for directions.”
“What guy?”
“The guy at the pump next to us.”
He checked the rear-view mirror and caught her look of confusion.
“How do you know it will be a guy?”
Slater took the exit, “Trust me, it will be.”
Anna met his gaze and narrowed her eyes.
He cleared his throat to say the rest, “Would you mind taking off the patrol cap and your jacket?”
Now her eyes popped open.
He was certain he had just destroyed any hope of her thinking well of him.
“I’m really sorry, Captain Barnes.”
She sighed heavily and removed her coat. As she was tucking her cap into her sleeve she spoke up again.
“Do you want me to take my hair down too?”
Slater could hear the chagrin in her voice.
“No, this should be good.”
He pulled up opposite an SUV and nodded at the man who was washing his windshield.
Anna climbed out and went to speak to the stranger.
Slater was pleased that she stood so the man had to turn away from his truck to speak to her. It made it much easier to remove the nozzle from the man’s gas tank and put it in the Explorer.
He kept an eye on her as he filled. She was easily keeping the other man’s attention and had not been forced to reduce herself to flirting tactics.
When the man asked Barnes how long she was going to be in town, Slater decided it was time to end the experience. He took the nozzle from the Explorer and put it back in the truck. He also noted the other man’s license plate for future reference.
Slater opened the back door for Barnes and climbed into his own seat.
“Did you get enough gas?” her voice was soft as she repositioned her hat over her hair.
“Yes,” he pulled back onto the interstate.
She didn’t speak again
“I’m sorry,” he repeated his words from earlier.
“I understand, Reed.”
“I got his license plate, if that makes you feel better.”
She frowned.
“I’ll reimburse him.”
He glanced back long enough to see her shrug.
Slater knew it was more than just the theft that bothered her, but it was harder to make up for that offense.
Hanbali awoke shortly after the stop, “Do you people never eat?”
“I have a couple MREs in my bag,” he offered.
“Chili-mac?” Anna was hungry too.
“Probably not,” he sounded apologetic,” but there may be some tuna in there. It would be on the side opposite where my pants were.”
Hanbali looked over her shoulder at Anna’s progress, “You’re a brave man, Captain Reed, to let a woman dig through your luggage.”
“I trust she’ll overlook the hairpiece and leopard print speedos,” he didn’t look away from the road.
Anna found what she was looking for and zipped the bag closed, “Now I’m curious.”
“Tough luck,” he reached his hand back for some food. “You’ll just have to wonder.”
Anna put a tuna package in his hand, “Tuna for you since you’ve managed to keep us from dying.”
“Is tuna the holy grail of your dehydrated meals?” Hanbali wrinkled her nose.
“Pretty much,” he sent a knife through the plastic, “but some people prefer chili-mac.”
“What would you like, Miss Hanbali? Vegetable/hamburger, vegetable/beef stew, or chicken and dumpling. Oh,” she wrinkled her nose, “he also inexplicably has vegetarian chili. Nasty stuff.”
“I’ll take that one,” Hanbali held out her hand.
Captain Reed laughed; Anna gagged.
“Those are bad?”
“I have a nephew who likes to try the MREs. I thought I’d cure him for good.”
Hanbali used a pen to puncture hers, “I’ll try it anyway – unless you really want it for your nephew.”
He shook his head, “I can get him another.”
“Good,” Anna opened hers, “then I can have the stew.”
“You going to use your Tabasco sauce?” Slater asked Hanbali about halfway through his meal.
She handed it over to him, “Tabasco on tuna?”
He shrugged.
They finished in silence, Hanbali not seeming to be bothered by the flavor and texture of the vegetarian meal.
Anna couldn’t figure the woman out. She had come from a wealthy family, had been educated in the top schools, and had lived among high-ranking government officials. Nonetheless, she was travelling without complaint in a smelly vehicle with bad shocks, she seemed nonplussed about having to change plans at the whim of a stranger, and she was eating a vegetarian MRE as though it were an everyday occurrence. There was something strange about Riya Hanbali, and Anna didn’t trust it.
“395 or 495?” Captain Reed broke through Anna’s musings.
“495 north.”
He took it and they drove a few more miles before the car began to shake.
“What’s wrong?” Hanbali was gripping the dash with both hands.
“Flat tire,” Slater grimaced as he pulled carefully over to the side.
Anna unbuckled as they were slowing and knelt backwards in her seat, “I’ll see if they have a spare.”
She pulled up the floor and looked at the tire below, “Um, spare – yes; aired up – no.”
He grunted, “Does it look like it could be?”
“Not really,” she poked at it. “I’d say it would hold air for all of ten feet if we were lucky.”
“Okay,” he drove slowly alongside the highway, “we’re going to leave the vehicle. Do you have any other clothes with you, Captain?”
“I have a couple things. What do you need?”
“Change into something comfortable. You need to blend in with the community.”
She dug through her bag and pulled out an article of clothing and a pair of shoes, “Am I changing now or when we stop?”
He reached up and turned the rear-view mirror toward Hanbali.
She made quick work of her clothes and was done by the time he found a school and was driving around the perimeter.
“I need to move the truck so nobody starts looking for the owner. See those dumpsters?”
The women nodded.
“I am going to drop you off beside them along with the bags,” he was removing his shirt while he spoke, driving all the while, “Can you find me a plain t-shirt and a pair of jeans or the bottom half of my PTs?”
Anna obliged.
He threw the car in reverse and backed up to the dumpsters and then took the pants and shoes. “I’ll be right back,” he winked at Hanbali before he climbed out.
He made such quick work of his clothes that Anna had to wonder if there was some special forces technique she should learn.
“Okay,” he extended a pistol to Anna, “take this.”
She did so, “Won’t you want it?”
“I acquired an extra one at the base.”
“You want the holster?” he held up the one he had been wearing on his thigh all day.
“Where will you keep yours?” she spoke before she thought. “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”
“It would look strange to be out jogging with a holster. Wear it if you need it,” he started toward the truck, “otherwise, put it in my bag.”
She lifted the hem of her sundress, and fastened the holster. Slater turned quickly, but not soon enough to avoid catching a glimpse of her leg.
“I’m going to park the truck a couple miles away and run back. I shouldn’t be more than half an hour. Stay hidden if at all possible; if not, try to look like you are just going for a walk. If I lose you somehow, I’ll turn my phone back on.”
Slater climbed into the truck and drove down the street. About three miles down the road, he found a mall. Perfect.
He stopped the truck near the back of the crowded parking lot and checked the seats to be sure they hadn’t left anything behind. He was climbing out when a police cruiser pulled up beside him.
Slater’s heart rate increased.
“You having car trouble?”
Slater slid his sunglasses over his eyes, “I blew a tire, but the spare is flat. My wife is on her way with a different spare.”
“Okay,” the cop nodded and drove away.
Slater waited until the man had rounded a corner before turning in the opposite direction and sprinting back toward the school.
“That was fast,” Barnes commented as she rose, “Where did you park?”
“A mall,” he leaned over and rested his hands on his thighs, “about three miles.”
Barnes looked at her watch, “You’ve been gone for twenty-nine minutes. How fast did you run?”
He shook his head and reached into his pocket. Whatever he pulled out was apparently a master key for the school – or something that worked equally as well. He held the door for the women and followed quickly after.
“I cannot even get into my own apartment that quickly,” Hanbali commented softly.
“I’m surprised we didn’t set off an alarm,” Barnes whispered.
Slater moved ahead of them and held out his arm to stop, “The custodian is in the building. I’m sure the alarm will be reactivated for the night.”
Barnes leaned a little closer to drop her voice further, “Where is he, and how do you know he is in there?”