Dark Justice(33)

“I’m afraid so.”

She pondered my answer. “‘Lord, be gracious to us. We wait for You. Be our strength every morning and our salvation in time of trouble.’”

With that, Mom leaned against her door and soon fell asleep, her mouth open.

Around San Jose, I-280 ended. I took Highway 101 south and in time turned east on 152 toward I-5, the long, flat freeway to Southern California. Every car that neared us made me tense. Was it them? Would they try to run me off the road? Before long my back and neck ached.

I tried to sort things out but came up with the same questions. Again and again I searched for the ability to trust the sheriff’s department so I could call them for help. I so wanted to believe they hadn’t told the “FBI agents” I’d copied that video. But I kept returning to the picture of Samuelson clutching my computer and backup drive even as he staggered out of my house.

I hit I-5 and turned south.

The time neared 6:30 a.m. My scratchy eyes fighting to stay open, I took an exit that led to a chain hotel. No way could I drive any longer. And the sun would rise all too soon, making our car all the easier to spot. I pulled into a parking space and cut the engine. Mom slept on. I aimed a dull gaze at her, biting my lip. Leaving her in the car was risky. If she woke up alone, she’d be frightened and might wander off. If I took her inside she’d be safe, but together she and I would be much more identifiable if anyone came looking for us.

I started the car again and moved to a space I could watch through the hotel door. With any luck, the employee behind the counter couldn’t see the car as well as I.

Holding my breath, I opened the car door, purse in hand, and slid out. Then I remembered the large gun in my tote bag, lying on the backseat. Couldn’t leave Mom with that.

Couldn’t take it inside, either. What if somehow I was caught with it? Plus I had my own gun in my purse. They’d think I was out to rob the place.

The bag could go in the trunk. But closing the trunk might wake Mom.

I hesitated, then leaned over the front seat and picked up the bag. I pulled my body out of the car and eased my door shut. Peered through the window. Mom didn’t move.

The few steps to the hotel flamed my body with heat. Was the shape of the gun evident through the tote bag? What if a hotel employee called the police? What if Rutger was following me this very moment? Everything within me wanted to throw wild looks over my shoulder. Was he just waiting until we slipped into a room so he could break down the door? My nerves sizzled and my breaths puffed.

How could I live like this?

A tiny voice in my head hissed that I had it all wrong. I’d fallen down a rabbit hole of pure paranoia. My problem wasn’t Bad People chasing me. It was my own delirious brain. Bad People I could run from. My brain, I could not.

Sweat popped out on my forehead as I opened the door.

The small lobby sat empty and foreboding. A young woman behind the counter shot me a penetrating look, as if she saw right through me. The sound of a TV filtered from the employee office behind the counter. I tried to smile. It came out lopsided.

“I need a room for today.”

“Today? As in checking out at noon?” Her name badge read Tina.

Of course, what was I thinking? My heart sank. Check-in would be around 3 p.m. “I don’t know if we’ll be out by noon. So maybe I should say for today and tonight.” Would that cost me double? My cash would run out so fast.

“So, checking out by noon tomorrow?”

Not that we’d stay here—or anywhere—near that long. “Yes.”

The hotel had an available room. Two queen beds. “I’ll take it.” I slipped a glance out the front door. Mom still seemed to be sleeping.

“Okay, I’ll need a credit card.”

Credit card. That could be traced. “I’d like to pay in cash. I don’t . . . believe in credit cards.”

Well, not at the moment, anyway.

“Okaaay. How about a bank debit card?”

I swallowed. A debit card could be traced too.

“It’s just to hold funds against your room. If you pay in cash tomorrow, we’ll release the hold right away.”

But wouldn’t that hold show up in my bank account immediately? Even quicker than a credit card charge.

I stood there, vacillating. Feeling my face go hot. “Can I just give you cash to hold against the room?”

“We’d have to take money for three days. Gives us a cushion against incidental charges.”

Three days. That would be close to $375.00. “Will I get back what I don’t use?”

“Yes.” Tina regarded me steadily, but I could almost hear her mind working. What kind of person didn’t want to show her credit or debit card? Everything I was doing was making me more memorable.