Long Road Home (3 page)

Knowing she had to be convincing, she settled back with a yawn and closed her eyes. The temptation to give in to sleep was strong. She was tired, more tired than she’d ever been in her life. She focused on the faces of her parents, anything to give her a sense of purpose. Then her thoughts drifted to Manny. She couldn’t lose him too. Even if it meant remaining as far away from him as possible.

After what seemed an interminable amount of time, she cracked open one eye and peeked over at Manny. He was yawning broadly and was slouched in his chair. He looked at the coffee in disgust, as if wondering why it wasn’t keeping him awake, then impatiently drained the last sip.

A twinge of guilt nipped at her. She was betraying him in the worst way. He would be hurt and not understand why she’d left. But she could take his censure if it meant he would stay alive.

She continued to watch him from the corner of her eye. He shifted restlessly and rubbed his eyes then checked his watch. Once he glanced over at her, and she held her breath, hoping he wouldn’t figure out she wasn’t asleep. When she was about to scream in frustration, his eyes fluttered closed, and his head sank to his shoulder.

She lay there another twenty minutes, wanting to give him a chance to slip into deep sleep. Then she quickly pulled out the IV, careful to leave it dripping so the alarm didn’t go off and alert the nurse.

Now more than ever, she wished Manny had gone out to get her clothing. Being seen running around in a hospital gown was the quickest way to draw unwanted attention.

Noiselessly, she slipped from the bed, her bare feet hitting the cold floor. She closed her eyes for a moment and braced herself against the pain. After several ragged breaths, the discomfort abated, and she straightened cautiously.

There was only one way out. Through the guards posted at her door. She wrinkled her nose in distaste. She needed to conserve as much energy as possible, and right now she felt as weak as a kitten.

With a sigh, she walked over to the door and cracked it open. To her relief, she only saw one man outside her door. Maybe the other was on a coffee break. Which meant she needed to hurry before he returned. She gestured frantically to the guard. “Quick, come here!”

He shot toward the door, and she opened it wider for him. When he was completely within the room, she struck with incredible speed. Planting her elbow sharply in his diaphragm, she left him gasping for breath. Before he could react, she brought her clasped fists down on the back of his neck. He crumpled soundlessly to the floor.

Pain and dizziness assaulted her, but she couldn’t give in to them. Not wasting any more time, she stuck her head out the door, looking both ways. To her relief the hall was empty. She slipped out of her room and ran to the stairwell at the end of the hall.

Her breath coming in rapid spurts, she hurried down the stairs to the first level. Her head spun crazily, the pain nearly overwhelming her. She couldn’t stop.

If she could find some hospital scrubs, they would make her less conspicuous than the thin gown she wore. On the first level, she peered out of the doorway to the stairwell, trying to decide which way to go. She chose right and followed the signs toward surgery. She held her breath every time she passed another person, but they were all in a hurry, paying no attention to her.

Finally she came to the surgery ward and began trying doors. She found linen closets, personnel offices, but no scrubs. Finally, at the end of the hall she hit pay dirt. Stacks of neatly folded scrubs lay on shelves. She tore off her gown and pulled on pants and a top. She then yanked a cap over her short hair, tucking strands up under the elastic. Lastly, she pulled on shoe covers. They wouldn’t offer much in the way of warmth, but they’d at least keep her feet dry for a little while.

Anyone would be hard-pressed to identify her as the ragged girl who had lain in a third-floor bed. She set out for the nearest exit, needing to put as much distance between her and the hospital as possible before her disappearance was discovered.

When she stepped outside, the brisk air washed over her, giving her a much-needed boost. She lengthened her stride and soon disappeared from the parking lot into the wooded area behind the hospital.

She had no money, none of her supplies, and she desperately needed rest. When Manny woke, he’d be pissed. And he’d come looking for her. If he called the cops in, they’d canvass the area and quickly spread out in the directions leading from town. They’d likely assume she’d get the hell out of Dodge.

But they’d be wrong. If she could lie low, they’d eventually fan out beyond her, and she could move in relative obscurity behind their footsteps. Then she could plot her next move.

First she had to find a hiding place, though.

She trudged through the mud from a fresh rain, winding through the trees toward distant lights. Dampness seeped into the thin material over her feet, rendering the covering ineffective. Night was rapidly falling, a fact she was grateful for. She could move easier in the shadows.

Below her, an upscale subdivision spread out over several blocks. Shedding the shoe covers, she squatted down beside a tree and surveyed each residence, looking for one where nobody was at home. It wasn’t a lack of lights she looked for. Most people tended to leave lights on even when they weren’t at home—an effort to deter burglars. What she looked for was movement. She was patient. Perched close to the ground, she focused on the few houses she couldn’t immediately rule out and waited.

Deciding on one at the end of a cul-de-sac, she crept forward, careful to remain in the shadows. When she reached the back edge of the property, she pulled herself up and over the wooden privacy fence and dropped to the ground on the other side. She couldn’t go on much farther. She felt lightheaded, woozy, and the pain was becoming harder to ignore.

She surveyed the back of the house, looking for the telltale sticker on a window or door advertising that the house had a security system. Finding none, she chanced moving toward the back door. It was locked, something she had expected. She’d prefer not to break in if she could avoid it. She moved to a set of windows not far from the door and tried each one.

A surge of elation swept over her when one slid quietly upward. Throwing her leg over the sill, she slipped inside, closing the window behind her. She did a quick survey of the house. Typical four-bedroom suburban house. Large kitchen, two family rooms, three bathrooms, dining room and master suite.

During her search of one of the bathrooms, she found several boxes of hair color. So the woman of the house liked to experiment, if the multiple colors were any clue.

Jules chose a box of red and quickly went about wetting her hair in the sink and applying the color. She didn’t know how much time she had, and she intended to make the most of it.

When she was finished, she surveyed the end result in the mirror. It wasn’t the best dye job in the world, but it achieved the desired effect. She had gone from being a blonde to a redhead. At least temporarily.

Careful to layer the box under the trash already in the garbage can, she exited the bathroom and went in search of a place to rest and lay low. If the people who owned the house had a guest room, chances were when they returned, they wouldn’t even know she was there. And if they discovered her, she’d cross that bridge when she got there.

She entered a room less cluttered than the others and assumed this was a spare bedroom. She eyed the bed, a four-poster with a bedspread that swept the floor on all sides. From her vantage point by the door, she couldn’t see under the bed. Perfect, as long as there was room for her.

The plush carpet felt good to her bare feet as she padded to the other side of the bed. Kneeling on the floor, she lifted the skirt of the bedspread and peered underneath. Triumph surged through her veins. Her thin frame would fit easily.

She slithered underneath the bed and curled into a comfortable position. Fatigue was overpowering all rational thought. For now she had to rest. She couldn’t go on any more. Tomorrow she’d figure out a way to get to Denver and to the duffle bag she had stowed in the locker at the bus depot.

Chapter Five

Manuel stirred and opened his eyes, his mind fuzzy and disjointed. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. Hadn’t even realized he was so tired.

As the room came into focus, he saw a man crumpled on the floor in front of him. He came awake instantly and surged to his feet.
Jules
.

He swung around to find the bed empty and swore. Throwing open the door, he stumbled into the hall, looking in both directions. The nurse in the hallway gave him an inquisitive look.

“Where is she?” he demanded. “Did you see her?”

“Who are you talking about?” the nurse asked as she drew closer.

“Jules. She’s gone.”

The nurse dropped her tray and sprinted toward the nurse’s station. After a few seconds the intercom system blared out a message for hospital personnel to be on the lookout for a patient matching Jules’s description.

Manuel slipped back inside and took the guard’s pulse. It was strong. Manuel strode toward the bed, glancing quickly around for some sign of struggle. The IV line hung limply to the floor, a pool of liquid spreading underneath it.

His gaze lighted on his coffee cup, the one Jules had asked for a drink out of. “Fucking idiot,” he swore at himself. Jules had never drunk coffee a day in her life. She’d drugged him.

Worry then anger flashed over him. What the hell was she running from, and why didn’t she trust him? He didn’t know this Jules at all. She wasn’t the same woman he’d loved for so long. For the first time since she’d disappeared, hope died a long death.

He strode from the room, pulled out his cell phone and punched in Tony’s number.

“What’s up, man?”

“Jules is gone,” Manuel bit out.

“What do you mean gone?”

“As in drugged me and disappeared.”

“Oh shit. Have any leads on her?”

“I’m searching the hospital now, but I imagine she’s got a pretty good head start.”

“Manuel,” Tony began, then broke off. Silence hung over the phone line.

“Yeah.”

“Stop thinking of her as little Jules Trehan. Think of her as an assignment. You need a clear head for this. You can track anyone. You just need objectivity.”

“I know.” He sighed. This was going to suck. “I need you to notify the local police. Put an APB out on her, but be careful to list her as a missing person, not a possible criminal.” An image of the guard in the hospital room flashed across his mind. “On second thought, forget the local police. I don’t want her to feel threatened. I’m not sure what she would do. Do we have anyone local?”

“Not sure. I’ll have to do some hacking to find out,” Tony said with a little too much excitement.

Manuel cursed his own indecision. Calling in other agents, while helpful, would also place Jules at greater risk. Never before had he suffered a lack of trust in his own agency, but it couldn’t be construed so much as a lack of trust as it was the knowledge that other agents would be bound to a code he himself wasn’t currently following. If Jules was in trouble, she needed help. Someone else would just haul her in for questioning.

“Hold off on the agents, Tony. I need…I need to find her first and figure out what the hell is going on. Have you discovered who was behind the explosion yet?”

“No, sorry. I’m working on it. I’ve got all my feelers out, and I haven’t been able to pick up anyone off our nasty list who’s within a hundred miles of where you are.”

“Okay, thanks, man.”

“No problem. I’ll let you know if something turns up. In the meantime, go find your girl.”

Manuel hung up and slipped the phone back into his pocket.
Your girl
. Maybe she had never been his. Whatever force had conspired to shove a two-year-old baby girl into his life twenty-three years ago was now tearing her from him. But for twenty years she had been his. His best friend. The one person apart from the Trehans who truly belonged to him.

He had to find out what had happened in those three years she was missing. That was the key to getting her back. And if he could get her back, he would damn sure never let her go again.

For now he was going to take Tony’s advice. She was no longer someone who meant the world to him. She was just like any other target he had to hunt down. And he’d never failed yet.

His cell phone rang again, and he looked down at the screen in annoyance. Sanderson.

“Boss man,” Manuel acknowledged.

“Manuel, Tony told me what happened.”

Manuel waited for Sanderson to continue, hoping he’d make it quick.

“I know how long you’ve looked for Jules. I know how it must feel to find her after all this time. But you need to be careful. Things aren’t looking good so far. She’s mixed up in some bad shit.”

Manuel’s stomach tightened. “What are you saying, Sanderson? Just spit it out, for God’s sake.”

“I’m saying it doesn’t appear she’s an innocent victim here. If you find her, I want you to bring her in.”

Manuel stood in silence, stunned by Sanderson’s order. “Bring her in? What the fuck for?”

There was a long pause. “I’ve allowed you a lot of latitude in your search for Jules, and now that you’ve found her, it appears she could be a person of interest to the CIA. I want you to bring her in.”

Manuel cursed again and realized his earlier fears were well-founded. Thank God he hadn’t had Tony call the local police or other agents.

“And Manuel, that’s an order.”

Jules opened her eyes, surprised to see light creeping underneath the bed. Damn it. She’d slept the entire night. She carefully lifted the edge of the bedspread and peered out. The door to the bedroom was still closed, and a quick look around the floor told her she was alone.

Cautiously, she edged out from underneath the bed, stretching her aching muscles. Judging by the brightness outside, it was well past eight. She cursed again. How was she ever going to get around without someone seeing her?

She glanced around the room, looking for clothing she could put on. The hospital scrubs, while ideal to get her out of the hospital, were now a flashing beacon.