her brother’s instructions to stick with the agent might possibly clear Michael from suspicion and find Pike’s real murderer. She’d keep her word to her dead partner and save her brother.
“O’Malley, we have to go. Now.”
“Right after you hand over the shooter’s weapon.”
Secret Agent Man released her arm, pulled the .38 from the middle of his back and handed it to her. No argument, but he slammed through the door. She scooped up her gun belt, running close behind. He punched the opener button and ran to the driver’s side.
With their doors barely closed, he revved the engine and tore out of the alley. He zigzagged through the streets until he reached Central Expressway.
She squirmed enough in her seat to watch in case someone followed. She’d halfway expected to be in cuffs by this point, not in the clear. She stowed the shooter’s weapon in the compartment between the seats and holstered her gun, keeping it in her lap in case her companion did something crazy.
“North or south?”
“South.” Toward her office. Toward the familiar. Toward safety.
“South it is,” he said casually, driving like a law-abiding citizen, turning onto the highway as if nothing were wrong. “You should remove the battery from your phone.”
He was right again. She had a data phone with GPS capability that the police could track. The lights from Central Expressway illuminated the dismantling process that left her disconnected from anyone familiar.
“Why did that man follow you to my house and try to kill you?” she asked five minutes down the road.
“Didn’t he say he was after you, Officer O’Malley?”
“Let’s cut the cutesy crap, shall we? Pull over at an all-night gas station. I need a minute to process what happened.” Maybe she should wave her gun to emphasize she was in charge. “And it’s Detective.”
Or it used to be before she’d been transferred to the academy.
“So we’ll need gas?” he asked, avoiding yet another question and darting his eyes to the rearview mirror.
“Look. I still don’t know who you are and Pike wasn’t all that clear about who the package was for. He didn’t mention anyone by name.”
“And you didn’t open it?” He smiled a toothy grin in her direction. “You strike me as the curious type.”
He was confident and arrogant about his decisions. He’d done this before. Run. Evade the police. Shoot suspects or worse. Some of his experience was beginning to piss her off. Most she was beginning to admire.
“Don’t pretend to know me. We’re only twenty minutes from where I report for duty. So cool it.”
He lifted his fingers off the steering wheel in mock surrender. The next exit approached and he crossed three lanes of traffic to come to a screeching halt on the shoulder.
“What the heck are you doing?” she yelled.
“Keep your eyes open, O’Malley. Good surveillance requires more than one person. I’m looking for a second car.”
Automatically turning in her seat, she watched as four cars sped past.
“You don’t seriously believe that man was a cop?”
“Don’t you? His badge looked authentic to me.” He swiveled in his seat to face her instead of the mirror he’d been staring at. “Pike sent for me. In my book, that means he couldn’t trust anyone near him. Bad guys. Bad cops.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t make any difference to me. Somebody killed Pike and I’ll return the favor.”
“Pike meant a lot to me, too.” But so did Michael. She wouldn’t let this mystery agent find anything without her. Not when the most obvious path to Pike’s killer might lead him to her brother. She needed to be certain he avoided that particular road. “What could be so important that Pike would be killed before anyone even knows what it is? Why would cops want to make this mysterious thing disappear along with anyone who knows about it?”
“I promised to deliver it to the DEA. I’ll let them sort out all the whys. Don’t worry about my end. Just take me to it.”
“I prefer to drive.” She removed the keys and shot out the door, walking around the tail of the car while he circled the hood.
What was she doing? Was this DEA bad boy truly Pike’s friend or someone wanting the package to destroy it? She’d find whatever Pike had hidden and the truth. Cops trying to kill her didn’t make sense, but neither did this agent. Quick on the draw, saving her life—she understood that was part of the job. But even her own father had never held her hair while she’d thrown up.
Was she totally out of her mind? Shoot, she already knew the answer. She’d fled the scene of a crime. A man—a cop—had been shot with her duty weapon. And her job was history. Her only ray of hope was if this guy was legitimate. They could explain what happened to his supervisor, retrace Pike’s steps and find the missing pieces. It was her best, perhaps her only, chance of helping her brother, getting justice for her old mentor and hanging on to whatever shred of what might be her career.
If the agent could connect the dots to prove Michael’s innocence, she’d lend him the pencil.
“Let’s start with something simple…your name.” She shoved her weapon into the door pocket, unsnapping the security strap of the holster. Easy access if something went wrong.
“Now that we’ll be working together I guess you should know. Erren Rhodes to your rescue.”
“I’m not working with you.”
“Isn’t it a little too late for that decision?” He turned in the seat, leaning back toward the door window. “Look. All we need to do is retrieve Pike’s package and you’re done. Back to whatever boring job you do.”
Boring was correct. She wanted out in the field. More specifically, she wanted to be undercover. She’d spent years analyzing other officers’ work, verifying accounts of operations and preparing case information. She’d longed to be in the field. Instead she’d been transferred to the academy.
Whoever this man was, he was her clue to unraveling this mystery and she would stick with him to find her answers. It had to be the cop in her telling her she could handle this guy. After all, she had the gun, right?
Right. That’s why a voice in her head kept screaming she must be completely and utterly nuts. It would be easier if it were the Sergeant Major’s voice droning in her ear about making the wrong decision. Truth was, she hadn’t heard her father’s voice in a long time. Nope, it was her voice asking questions.
“This’ll take some getting used to,” he said. “I’ve never worked with anyone before. You’re in, O’Malley. Admit it.”
“So how do we avoid every cop in the city who will be searching for us?” Every instinct told her that trusting this man would help clear her brother’s name.
“You mean they’ll be searching for you,” he stated, very certain of himself. “They don’t
