Pink Neon Dreams (19 page)

“We can.”

At a Dollar General store, Cecily
waited while Daniel went inside.
 
He
brought her the cold soft drink and some ibuprofen tablets.
 
She took several and washed them down with
soda, eyes shut as she savored the crisp coolness.
 
When she opened her eyes, he handed her a
silk rose.

“What’s that for?”

“I thought you’d like it,” he
said. “It’s beautiful, like you.”

For the first time since walking
out of the FBI office, Cecily smiled. “Thanks, sugar. I do. You’re sweet to
cheer me up.”

“I try,” he said with a faint
flicker of a grin. “Put your head back and rest. I’ll get you back to Branson
in no time but fasten the damn seatbelt.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, with a
laugh.
 
She did and then settled down as
he headed out of town.
 
Although she
wouldn’t have thought she could, not with her nerves so tight, Cecily shut her
eyes and drifted into a light doze.
 
Under any other circumstances and with almost anyone else, she wouldn’t
trust enough to sleep.
 

Her phone jingled and she roused
up, momentarily confused. She blinked and read the caller ID. “It’s Nia,” she
said. “Hello?”

“What the fuck is going on down
there?” her cousin said.

“Whaddya mean?”

“You haven’t called me, bitch,”
Nia said without heat. “Is he got you distracted?”

Cecily shot a glance at Daniel.
“Well, yes but a lot’s happened.”

“Something
wrong?”

She wanted to tell, to babble the
truth out to gain sympathy and support, but she didn’t dare.
 
Daniel’s quizzical glance shifted. “Is it
your cousin on the phone?”

“Hang on, Nia,” she said.
“Yeah, why?”

“You think she’d come down to
mind your shop for you?”

“She might. Do you think she
should?”

“It wouldn’t hurt,” Daniel said.
“I’ve got a half-assed plan but keeping the store open would be better than
not. Ask her.”

“Can I tell her what’s going
down?”

His sigh puffed out with noise.
“I think you probably should.”

Her tummy shifted with a gurgle
and a wave of nausea.
 
Cecily swigged
Sprite to tame it and said, “Hey, Nia?”

With a sharp tone, her cousin
said, “What’s going on? Cecily, tell me or so help me God I’ll be down there.”

She
always did have a little bit of that fey thing, like our mamas.
“I think you should come,
girl.
 
How soon can you get here?”

“It depends on when I can get a
flight, but I can be there today.
 
Are
you in trouble?”

“Not yet,” Cecily said. “But I’m
about to be slammed with some big time shit.”

Nia caught her breath loud enough
to hear. “You’re scaring the hell out of me. What’s going on?”

Cecily sketched out the basics of
her predicament and described the interview at the FBI office. “Jesus,” Nia
said when she finished. “It sounds like a mess.
 
What’s your boyfriend think about all this shit or have you told him?”

“Daniel knows,” she replied.
“He’s an FBI agent, too.”

“
What
?” Nia roared. “You’re kidding.”

“No, it’s true, but he’s helping
me.”

“You sure he’s cool?”

She delivered the ultimate
approval and knew her cousin would understand the meaning even if Daniel didn’t
grasp it yet. “I trust him, all the way.”

“Shut my mouth!” Nia exclaimed.
“You’re far gone, then, girl.”

I
might as well have admitted I love him.
 
I haven’t even admitted it to myself until now, but I love Daniel.

“Yeah, I am,” she said,
astounded, afraid, and awed by her revelation. “So are you coming?”

“Of course I am,” Nia said. “I’ll
call you and let you know when to pick me up, hear?”

“Okay.”

Her stomach lurched as soon as
she hung up the phone and Cecily knew she’d be puking soon.
 
“Daniel,” she gasped. “You gotta pull
over.
 
I’m going to be sick.”

Within seconds, he veered onto
the shoulder and came to a stop.
 
She
fumbled with the shoulder harness and couldn’t undo the latch until Daniel
reached across to free her.
 
Then she
opened the car door and hung her head out.
 
Hot vomit exploded out of her mouth and spattered the pavement as her
tummy clenched like a fist. “Oh, God,” she said and retched again.
 
The comforting weight of a hand touched her
back and scooped back her braids. “Thank you, Daniel.”

“
De nada,
” he said. “Are you sick or it is your nerves?”

Eyes streaming, tummy still
tight, she drew a breath and almost gagged at the puke smell. “It’s just a gut
reaction, sugar,” she said. “I’ll be fine.”

His dark eyes scrutinized her
face. “You look so pale,” he said.
 
A
worry line bisected his forehead. “Can I do anything to help?”

“I wish you had a cold, wet wash
cloth so I could wipe my face and hands,” she said, knowing she asked the
impossible.

“I can come close,” Daniel said.
He ratted around in the back seat and pulled out a container of wet wipes.
“They’re not cold, but they’re damp.”

“Thank you,” she said. “These
will do.”

“If you’re done puking, then I’ll
get you home so you can settle down.”

“I think I am.”

He rested his palm against her
cheek for a moment. “Then we’ll
go,
querida.”

Tears welled up in her eyes in
response to his kindness.
 
Daniel didn’t
bitch at her for not feeling well or be impatient.
 
What she’d told him had been true—she’d suffered
a gut reaction to a
 
major upset,
something she’d done since childhood although the event had to be big to affect
her normally cast iron stomach. Daniel’s compassion eased some of the lingering
nausea.
 
She looked up at him with a
smile and he caught sight of her tears.

“
Que tienes?”
he asked. “Cecily, what’s wrong? Do you have a pain?”

She shook her head. “No, I’m
feeling a little better. You’re awesome.”

Daniel snorted. “I don’t know
about that but if you’re all right, we’ll go.”

“I’m okay.”

On the remainder of the drive
back into Branson, she fell asleep, soothed by the sound of the music on his
car stereo.
 
She roused to Daniel’s voice
saying her name and came awake quick.

“We’re home,
chica,
” he said. “If you feel like it, we need to talk before your
cousin arrives.”

“Okay,” she said. Her head felt
thick and packed in cotton, but her earlier headache had gone away.
 
“Sure, sugar.
 
I need to change clothes first, though.”

Ten minutes later, her navy suit
hung back in the closet, the killer heels parked in the bottom, Cecily came out
of the bedroom in shorts and a tank top, barefooted, to find Daniel waiting on
the couch.
 

He stood up. “You look better,”
he said. “You feel all right?”

“I’m fine,” she said. “You don’t
have to fuss over me.”

She liked the fact he did,
though, a lot.
 
Daniel met her and
brushed her hair back with his hand. “I want to make sure you’re okay,
querida.
You had a terrible experience
today and there’s a lot to deal with.”

“I can handle it,” she said with
bravado and then laughed. Yeah, she’d handled it great, puking onto the side of
the road. “Well, I will when this mess is over.”

“We’re a long way from there,” he
said. “But we’ll get through it.”

“So, what happens next? What’s
the agent going to do now?”

“I imagine he’s already reported
to Martin, my supervisor, special agent in charge in Kansas City. He’ll be
calling me any time now.
 
It seems like
we left hours ago, but it’s been less than two,” Daniel said. He wrapped his
arms around her and she cuddled against him. “Unless I read it wrong, Tillman’s
going to offer his opinion you’re guilty for murder.
 
They’ll need more than that, but they’ll
start digging.
 
Martin will ask me to
check into your stories here, see if I can prove or disprove your whereabouts
at the time of death.
 
And he’ll have
some of the Chicago office checking out things there.”

“Will they arrest me?”

“Not if I can help it, no,” he
said. “We’ve got a few days for them to try to turn up information but
something about this doesn’t smell right to me.
 
I’ve got a hunch someone’s paying off someone to skew the facts.
 
Did your old man have anyone who would try
it?”

“I’m sure he did,” Cecily said.
“His attorney’s a snake.
 
He would. I
don’t know if he did but he’s capable of it, the bastard.
 
So what do we do?”

“We have to find out who killed
Bradford before anyone pins it on you. And we have to get you out of here
before whoever did the job comes after you.”

He said it as if it was simple,
but she knew it wasn’t.
 
“How can we
figure out who killed him? And why would they come after me?”

“You’ll tell me everything you
know that might help,” he said. “But to make sure they don’t take you into
custody and no one finds you who shouldn’t, we’re going somewhere safe.”

“What about Nia?”

“She’s going to run your store
for now so it doesn’t tip off the FBI we’re gone,” Daniel said. “Don’t worry—she’ll
be safe or I wouldn’t let you ask her to come.
 
You have to trust me.”

“I do,” she said.
 
“Where are going?”

Daniel’s level gaze never
wavered. “Texas,” he said. “Then to Mexico if necessary.”

Images of the wide plains of west
Texas filled her mind, scenes from movies.
 
She’d seldom been to the Lone Star State and her rare visits had been to
the major cities. She’d never been south of the border, but she’d be willing to
go there or anywhere else in his company. A year ago, six months, even a month
ago Cecily couldn’t have imagined any willingness to run away with anyone, but
she’d agree to go to hell and back with Daniel.

“All right,” she said. “When do
we leave?”

Something almost imperceptible
shifted in his expression. “Tomorrow,” he said. “As soon as I can get things
ready for the trip and get your cousin set up, we’ll go.”

“Okay. Where do we start?”

Before he could answer, his cell
phone buzzed and he held up one hand. “It’s Martin,” he said. “I have to take
this.”

She nodded, understanding. “Go
ahead.”

“Padilla,” he barked into the
phone. “Yeah, I dropped off Ms. Brown earlier.
 
No, I’m aware what Tillman thinks, but I’m not in agreement with him.
 
He hammered her pretty damn hard, but I don’t
see any apparent guilt.
 
What? No, I
don’t think she showed any motive or extreme hostility toward her ex-spouse, no
more than most divorced woman do.
 
Yeah,
I can stay here another few days, check out her stories, see if I can find
someone to confirm her whereabouts.
 
No
problem.”

Head cocked, Daniel listened but
his body language indicated anger—and danger.
 
His tense stance radiated the silent calm of a gunfighter about to face
down an enemy.
 
Red stained his cheeks
and his eyes glittered with irritation.
 
After what seemed to be a long time, a period where she could hear his
boss’ voice but not make out the words, Daniel spoke. “I understand, Martin.
I’m not leaning one way or another here, just presenting my take on the
situation.
 
I’ll keep her under
surveillance and I’ll get back to you.
 
Absolutely.
 
Yeah, you
do.”

Stillness shattered the moment he
disconnected. “Fuck!” he shouted.
“Mother fucking son of a
bitch whore!
¡
Chíngate
, Martin.”

Cecily waited and when he stopped cussing under his
breath, she said, “What’s he want?”

“I’m supposed to keep an eye on you, let him know if
you do anything odd or try to run,” Daniel said. “He’s taking Tillman’s
bullshit seriously.
 
Like I expected,
he’s got agents looking for documentations in Chicago.
 
If someone’s paying enough, they’ll find an
agent to lie or doctor evidence.
 
It
happens, even in the bureau.”