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Dark Justice(36)

By:Brandilyn Collins


“Mom?”

“I’m here.”

“Go to the police. Now.”

I licked my lips. “I’m not sure I can.”

“Why?”

How to explain the feeling in my gut? I thought over everything that had happened. How from the very beginning Harcroft had seemed suspicious when I insisted Leringer hadn’t said anything to me. How soon the fake FBI agents had shown up my house. How soon Samuelson had returned after I’d told Wade and Harcroft everything.

“Mom, talk to me!”

For the next few minutes, I tried to explain. “And think about it. Those fake FBI agents could have killed me and your grandmother when they first came to the house. But they didn’t. They tried to kill me after I’d met with Harcroft and Wade. After I’d told those two men everything Morton said.”

“Mom, you really think some sheriff’s deputy—”

“I don’t know, Emily. That’s just it. I don’t know. So—what if I go to the authorities? And what if Wade or Harcroft are working with the terrorists? Isn’t that what terrorists try to do—recruit insiders? How perfect would that be.”

“And what if they’re not? And you keep running, with no protection, and those guys find you?” Emily’s voice bent upward. “You and Grand are both dead!”

My heart thrashed. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to do.”

“Go to the police, that’s what!”

I squeezed my eyes shut. “Once that’s done, there’s no going back. I think I should just return to the hotel for now. For an hour or two. Let me think this through.”

Behind me a car door opened. I turned to see Mom getting out. I lowered the phone to my shoulder. “Mom, stay there.”

She pushed to her feet.

“Please, Mom! I’ll just be a minute.”

She walked toward me, leaving her door open, the car’s inside light shining. Might as well send a message to our pursuers: Here we are!

“Is she okay?” Emily’s voice.

“I want to talk to my granddaughter.” Mom approached, hand out for the receiver. My pulse beat in my throat. If I fought her, she could have a meltdown. She was tired enough. I could not risk her screams attracting attention from the customers getting gas. I thrust the phone into her hand. “Do it quickly, we have to go.”

Mom took the phone in her gnarled fingers. Pressed the black plastic to her white head. “Emily?”

“Hi, Grand.” I could just make out Emily’s words. “You okay?”

“Awful tired. We’re running, you know. From the Bad People. They want to hurt Morton’s daughter in Raleigh. We have to get to her first and warn her. But it sure is tiring.”

“Oh. Well, you do everything Mom tells you, okay? She knows what she’s doing.”

Yeah. Right.

I glanced around the station’s parking area, then across the street. One car pulled away from a pump; another one pulled in behind. And here we stood, with our lit-up car. Who talked on pay phones anymore? Didn’t we look out of place, just using the thing?

“Okay.” Mom’s voice wavered. “How are you, sweetie? You found a new boyfriend yet?”

I winced.

“No, Grand. I’m gonna take my time on this one.”

“Problem is, you’re just too good for all the men out there. They can’t hold a candle to you.”

“Thanks.”

Mom sighed. Such exhaustion in that sound. “I need to go now. We’ll talk again soon.”

“Okay. Love you.”

Mom handed the phone back to me, satisfied. I couldn’t help but snatch it from her fingers. “Go sit in the car, please. And close the door so the light won’t be on.”

Amazingly, she obeyed.

The line clicked. An automated voice told me to put in more money. I blew out a breath in frustration, then rummaged for the coins and shoved them in. “Emily, hello?”

“I’m here. Mom! Go to the police!”

“I have to think about this first. If Harcroft or Wade is working with these terrorists, and I ask the police for protection—I’m dead. You understand that? The first thing the police will do is contact those two men. This is their case. I have to be sure.”

Emily sighed. “Well, think it through in a hurry, okay?”

She still didn’t get it. But how could I expect her to? She hadn’t seen what I had.

The February chill bit through my coat. My head throbbed, and the unfamiliar phone in my sweaty hand spun a feeling of abandonment through me.

How in the world had I gotten to this place?

“Mom, you hear me?”

“Yes. I’ll call you again in a few hours.”