with strain. Legs wobbling. She could not crash yet, goddamnit. “How did you know where I was?” she demanded.
He let out a sharp sigh and slanted her an irritated glance. “A radio frequency transmitter. In your jewelry case.”
She stopped in her tracks, mouth open. “How did you—”
“Later. Move.” He yanked her arm, getting her going again.
She noticed that they were passing the fogeymobile. “Stop,” she said.
“We’re not taking this car,” he said. “Hurry. We don’t have time for—”
“I have to get Rachel’s car seat,” she told him.
The blank disbelief on Janos’s face bugged the shit out of her.
“It’s the law,” she said more loudly. “Children have to be properly restrained. You can’t let them rattle around in a vehicle. It’s not safe.”
That you-have-got-to-be-fucking-kidding-lady expression pushed her raddled nerves right to the snapping point. “Look, asshole, I have left everything behind!” she said, her voice shrill. “My home, my stuff, my friends, my work, my stroller, Rachel’s Tylenol and diaper wipes and allergy medicines! I left our entire fucking identity behind, thanks to you! I am not leaving Rachel’s car seat, so get the fuck out of my way!”
Janos lifted both hands in the air, eyes wide behind the weird glasses. “Calmati,” he murmured. “Keep it down. And hurry, please.”
He looked incredibly different with that hair and bushy beard and that stupid-ass knit cap stretched over it. Tam stared at him for a second, shook her head, and stuck Rachel right into his arms. What else could she do? No way was the kid capable of standing on her feet.
She dug keys from her purse with stiff, shaking fingers, opened the door, and struggled with straps, clamps and tethers until she got the car seat out of her vehicle.
Then she wrenched open the trunk and grabbed the jewelry case too. What the hell. It didn’t look like she was going to be taking a plane trip anytime soon, and the way things were looking, some of this stuff might well come in handy. And she could always melt it down for gold and gems later on if she got desperate. Which was looking more and more likely, the way she was running through money.
She had to get her hands on a gun. Preferably more than one. The McCloud Crowd could help her, but she hated to involve them. They were so inquisitive, so damn protective. She didn’t want to put their families in danger. But she would, for Rachel. Oh, yes, she would.
She’d gotten out of the habit of packing heat, having a curious three-year-old crawling all over her, but what happened in that bus was a brutal reality check. She’d gotten sloppy. She gave herself a mental slap as she jogged alongside Janos, clutching the heavy seat.
Rachel was as slack as a doll. She looked so small, curled up against his huge chest. He stopped at a black van with tinted windows, and opened it without the benefit of a key. “Is this your car?” she asked.
He gave her a significant look. “No.”
She flung open the back door, and hoisted the car seat into place, again struggling with tethers, belts, and straps. “Stolen?”
Another duh glance from behind his shaggy fake locks. “Borrowed,” he said. “We will take it back now to the mall parking lot where I found it, and the owner will need only to fix the locks and the steering column. Perhaps I will even leave money for repairs.”
“How civil of you.” She grabbed Rachel from his arms. “Not often one meets a car thief and killer who’s such a good citizen.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “I do my best.”
“How did you get from the parking lot to the terminal?” she demanded. “You weren’t on my shuttle. You weren’t in the lot.”
“I had a motorcycle in the back of the van,” he said. “And that is the last question I am answering for now, so shut up. Try not to leave prints on the van, no? Things are complicated enough. Do not put the child in the seat yet. Stay down on the floor until we are on the road.”
That sounded wise, so she placed Rachel on the floor in front of the backseat and huddled beside her until she felt the van stop. The window hummed down, the exchange was made. The turn, a smooth acceleration, and they were off. She went limp with shivering relief.
“All clear,” he said.
Tam hoisted Rachel up into the car seat and strapped her in. She grabbed the clammy, chilly little hands and chafed them. It alarmed her, the way the child’s head lolled. Her heartbeat was frantic, like a little bird. It made her feel horribly helpless.
“Janos, do you have a plan?” she demanded. “And does it include telling me what the fuck just happened back there?”
“Yes and yes.” He was using that super-cool, even voice again. “We leave this van in the mall parking lot, retrieve my car, and go straight to a comfortable hotel where we can rest safely, and talk at great length about many things that will interest you. That is the plan.”
“Why don’t you tell me about the things that will interest me now, and then I decide if I’m interested in going to this hotel with you?”
“No,” he said. “I am driving now. Not talking.”
“What bullshit,” she said sharply. “You appear to be a very talented multitasker. And I am curious right now. Not later.”
“You will be just as curious later. How is the child?”
Hah. The master of diversion. She stroked Rachel’s clammy cheek. “Ice cold, racing heart, won’t talk to me, won’t make eye contact. Shocky. Why? Don’t try to tell me that you care.”
He caught her glance in the rearview mirror and gave her a reproving frown. “That is unjust.”
His aggrieved tone set her right off on a rampage. “Oh, is it? None of this crazy shit would have happened to her at all if you hadn’t fucked with our lives and put us on the run, you meathead moron.”
“It would have happened,” he said. “Be glad it happened here and not at your home, where I would not have been able to help.”
“I’m supposed to be grateful? Spare me. Rachel, baby, are you in there? Anybody home? Talk to Mamma. Come on.” She patted Rachel’s cheeks, gulping back tears. Now was not the time, damn it.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a large dark splotch high on Janos’s coat sleeve. She leaned over the seat to take a closer look.
“Hey. You were shot,” she said in an accusing voice.
He grunted. “It is nothing.”
Macho cave man talk. Nothing, her ass. “Nothing meaning what?” she demanded. “Meaning there’s a bullet embedded in your arm, but it’s really nothing?”
“It is not embedded. It grazed me only. It is nothing,” he reiterated, his voice hard. “Please do not try to tell me that you care.”
Was
