Coming to Her Rescue Page 8

  “You told him to go to the police?”

  Hanna nodded. Considering the fact that Gordon was now dead—and her and Jake’s lives might very well be at stake, too—all therapist/client confidentiality was out the window. “He wouldn’t delve into the specifics, but he let on that he was in some kind of danger. So I told him to go to the authorities. And I’m guessing as soon as it becomes clear we went to the police, too… well… the gunmen aren’t going to like it. And our fate will be the same as Gordon’s.”

  “This is bad,” Jake said. “We need to get you to safety. We can check in with the detective later.”

  “Okay, but there’s something we have to do first,” she said. “It was also on the voicemail.”

  “The thing about the place he went to with his ex-wife?”

  She nodded. “During one of our sessions, he told me all about their first date. It was at a local diner. And it sounds like he left something for me there. Something that might help us figure this whole thing out.”

  Jake grabbed his water bottle and chugged it without stopping for air. Then he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “We need to get to that diner,” he said. “Before anyone else does. Are you sure of the place?”

  “I’m certain.”

  “Good. Why don’t you get dressed while I take a quick shower, and then we’ll get out of here?”

  They left the apartment fifteen minutes later. Since Jake wasn’t sure what might happen once they found what they were looking for at the diner, he grabbed Hanna’s suitcase—including her clothes from the dryer—and a go-bag he kept in the hall closet before heading out. He threw both in the trunk, and they were off.

  Within three minutes of leaving the apartment, Jake noticed a dark SUV following them. It wasn’t the same vehicle that had chased after them in the airport parking garage, but its behavior was just as suspicious. Jake made a few evasive maneuvers to see if he was merely being paranoid or if the driver was, in fact, following them. When it became clear that they really were being tailed, he told Hanna to hang on.

  He took a winding, roundabout route to get to the diner but knew he could only do so much to lose them. If they hadn’t had a set destination, it would have been easy to ditch the SUV. Since they had to stop at the diner, though, it was only a matter of time before the men following them spotted his car in the parking lot. Ruby was far from inconspicuous under normal circumstances, and now she had a broken window and missing mirror. In other words, she was impossible to miss.

  Jake reached under his seat and grabbed a pistol. “We need to get in and get out,” he said as he holstered the weapon and then pulled his shirt down so it was perfectly concealed. “I have a feeling they’re going to catch up to us at any moment.”

  Hanna’s hands were shaking as she unbuckled her racing harness. Jake reached over tenderly to help. He realized she wasn’t used to these kinds of scenarios. He’d had years of training on how to keep calm in life-or-death situations, but she certainly hadn’t. He tried to lighten the mood for her sake.

  “Just stick with me,” he said with a wink. “And you’ll be safe.”

  Hanna gave him a weak smile, and they both got out of the car and proceeded to the entrance of the diner.

  As the door shut behind them, Jake noticed the black SUV pull into the parking lot. He’d hoped they’d have a little more time…but apparently, it wasn’t meant to be. His car was just too noticeable. If there had been a parking lot behind the diner, he would have used it. For a moment, he regretted not parking several blocks away to throw them off the course, but he realized having a ready and waiting getaway car was more important than keeping their pursuers guessing. It seemed inevitable that the men were going to follow them to the diner anyway.

  “Morning, honeys,” a buxom blonde said as she walked past with a stack of menus in one hand and a pot of coffee in the other. “Take a seat anywhere you like.”

  They chose a booth near the back that was out of view of the front door. Jake could still see the parking lot through the windows, though. And he didn’t like what he saw. Two men had gotten out of the SUV and were walking toward the diner.

  He didn’t want to stress Hanna out any more than she already was—it certainly wouldn’t be good for their baby—so he tried to hide his urgency. “Where do you think Gordon put it?” he asked, looking around the bustling diner.

  Hanna scanned their surroundings. “I’m trying to remember what he told me about their first date.” Her eyes darted from booth to booth, as if she were hoping one would trigger something in her memory.

  “There!” she finally said, pointing to an empty booth. “That’s the table they sat at.”

  “How do you know?”

  “The elephant painting.”

  Jake followed her finger and saw a big painting of a purple dancing elephant hanging on the wall over the booth.

  “Are you sure?” he asked.

  She nodded. “I’m certain. He said he stared at the painting during the whole date because he was so nervous that he couldn’t bring himself to look his date in the eye. And it stuck with me because I’ve always loved elephants, too. I did this whole big project on them in middle school. I must have read a dozen books from the library about them. They’re such amazing creatures. Mostly for their incredible memories and motherly instincts. Gordon liked them, too, but he was mostly interested in the painting itself—the technique and style of the artist. He had an amazing eye for detail. He only had to see a work once, and he could remember specifics of it forever. That’s why he was so good at his job.”

  Jake could listen to her ramble all day—it was utterly adorable—but the blonde waitress was pouring coffee for the two men who had followed them inside. In other words, now was the time to make their move.

  “Come on,” he said. He got up and strode casually over to the booth. Hanna followed.

  They sat down and he looked around.

  “There,” he said, loudly enough for those in the surrounding booths to hear. “This is a much better view. I love how the beach looks in the morning.”

  Hanna nodded, clearly trying to play her part but unsure of her lines.

  By this point, the waitress had left the men from the SUV to serve another table, and Jake could tell they were watching Hanna closely while trying to look inconspicuous.

  Jake and Hanna glanced around the booth. Jake doubted Gordon would leave something on the tabletop since the staff would clear it away, so it had to be in some kind of hiding spot. Perhaps lining the picture frame? A quick scan revealed there was nothing around the painting but wood.

  Then Hanna reached down under the table and ran her hands along the length of it. Moments later, she froze.

  “I think I found it,” she whispered. She rested one hand casually on the table as she tried to pry whatever was under the table free.

  “Did you get it?” Jake asked.

  She nodded, then slipped something into her own pocket.

  “Come on.” He held out his hand and ushered her outside. The blonde waitress had returned with the men’s coffee, blocking their view of the parking lot, at least for the time being. So Jake strode over to their SUV, dug a knife from his pocket, and, with swift precision, slashed all four tires. Then they climbed into Ruby, and he peeled out of there.

  From his rearview mirror, Jake saw the men run out of the diner, but he knew they wouldn’t be able to get far on four flats. He rounded a corner and then another one, until they could no longer see the diner at all.

  By the time they hit the highway, he was certain no one was following them. That didn’t necessarily mean they were safe, though.

  “We can’t go back to my apartment,” he said as they raced out of the city. “It isn’t safe for you or the baby.”

  Hanna instinctively placed her hand over her stomach. She had yet to start showing, but the pregnancy had been in the back of his mind ever since she told him the news. And he was more determined than ever to protect them because
now two lives were at stake instead of just one.

  Twelve

  After they had been driving for about two hours, Hanna had to speak up. She couldn’t hold her bladder for any longer.

  “How much farther?” she asked. “We may need to stop soon so I can use the restroom.”

  Jake glanced at the odometer that had been clocking their trip. “About twenty miles,” he said. “Can you hold it for fifteen minutes or so?”

  She nodded and pulled out her phone to distract herself. A short while later, they pulled into the crumbling parking lot of a decrepit-looking motel that had clearly seen better days.

  “Is this where we’re staying?” she asked in surprise. She hadn’t been expecting five-star accommodations, but a seedy motel? Surely staying here would be just as dangerous as staying at his apartment, but for different reasons.

  “It’s not as bad as it looks,” Jake said as he unbuckled his harness. “Plus, it’s pretty safe. And isn’t that better than luxurious?”

  Hanna was doubtful that they were going to be all that safe there—it looked like a prime spot for drug dealers to conduct business—but she trusted Jake. So she undid her own harness and followed him to the lobby, which was really just a motel room that had been converted into an office. The calendar hanging on the wall was dated June 1994, and Hanna was pretty sure the boxy device in the corner was a fax machine.

  “Hi there,” the man behind the counter said cheerfully. “Are you here for a room?”

  “Yes, sir, we are,” Jake said.

  “For how many nights?”

  “Let’s start with one and play it by ear.”

  “All righty.” The man typed something into his computer and then grabbed an actual metal key from one of the hooks on the wall behind him and handed it to Jake. “I’ve got you two lovebirds in room 202.” Then he winked at them. “Consider it the honeymoon suite.”

  “Oh, we’re not…” Hanna started to say, but then stopped herself. She looked to Jake for guidance, as if for confirmation that they should assume different identities. Were they pretending to be a couple? Considering the fact that they were on the run from people who apparently wanted to kill them, traveling undercover seemed an added layer of protection.

  Jake looked just as flustered as she felt, though, and he didn’t confirm or deny the manager’s assumption. After he paid for the room using cash, they headed back to the car.

  He grabbed both their bags and followed her to room 202. Hanna wasn’t expecting much after seeing the outside of the building—and the inside of the makeshift “lobby”—but she was still disappointed upon unlocking the door and stepping inside.

  The accommodations were sparse and clearly hadn’t been updated since the early nineties. Even the TV was the big, boxy kind that weighed at least fifty pounds. Hanna chuckled when she remembered the calendar in the lobby. It was as if this motel was stopped in time.

  Jake locked the door behind them, making sure to deadbolt it, and then slid the little chain in the socket. He put the bags down, and that’s when Hanna noticed the sleeping accommodations.

  The motel room was furnished with a single double bed and an aged, sagging couch. She sighed. Hopefully they would only have to stay just the one night.

  Jake sat on the couch and stretched out his arms and legs with a satisfied sigh, as if he were trying to convince her how comfortable it was.

  “This is the life,” he said, grinning up at her.

  Hanna shook her head. “You’re nuts.”

  “Is that your clinical diagnosis?”

  Now she nodded. “Yup.”

  Jake sat up and rubbed his hands together. “Let’s see what you found under the table,” he said.

  Hanna dug into her pocked and pulled out a tiny flash drive.

  “I figured,” he said, taking it from her. “Any idea what might be on it?”

  She shook her head.

  “Did you bring your laptop to Tokyo?”

  “I did, but it probably needs charging.” Hanna unzipped her suitcase and dug around for a moment until she found her laptop and the power cord. She plugged in the cord and connected the computer before turning it on.

  She sat on the couch next to him, and after her laptop booted up, Jake plugged in the flash drive.

  He opened the folder linked to the drive and clicked on the first item that appeared. It was an audio file of several men conversing. There were at least three individuals, and they mentioned something about moving merchandise and being behind schedule. The recording ended with one of the men saying it was going to be a serious problem if they didn’t move everything soon.

  “Do you recognize Gordon’s voice?” Jake asked as he copied all the contents of the drive onto the desktop. “Is he one of the men talking?”

  “No.” Hanna shook her head. “I don’t think so. Play it again.”

  They listened to the recording several more times, trying to pick up clues that might provide more context. After the second run-through, Jake pulled a small notebook from his back pocket—the same one he had used to document the break-in back at the office—and started jotting down notes.

  When it came time to focus on the other files on the drive, it quickly became clear that they were all encrypted. In fact, that first audio file was the only one they could access on the entire drive. There were several other audio files and a few jpegs, but they were all password protected.

  “I don’t understand,” Hanna finally said. “If Gordon wanted me to have this information, why would he encrypt it?”

  “For an added layer of security,” Jake said. “In case the drive ended up in the wrong hands. The files probably contain sensitive information that’s for your eyes only. Which means you’re likely the only one who knows how to access it.”

  “I’m not a hacker,” she said. “I have no idea how to open those files.”

  “That’s okay,” Jake said, clearly trying to put her at ease. “It will come to you, I’m sure. What do you remember about Gordon? What did he usually talk about during your sessions together?”

  Hanna thought back over the time they had spent together. Honestly, nothing jumped out at her.

  “Overall, he was a pretty private person,” she said. “Even with me, which is unusual. Most clients tell me things that no one else knows. But not Gordon.”

  “What kind of stuff did he tell you?”

  Hanna reflected on the many conversations they’d had in her office. What had he talked about mostly?

  “We primarily discussed his ex-wife,” she finally said. “Even though the divorce was finalized a few years ago, he was still pretty broken up about it. He had a lot of anxiety about the way things ended between them. They had been married for more than twenty years.”

  “Did he talk about anything else?” Jake asked. “Anything regarding his profession?”

  “I mean, he would complain about the usual stress of work, but no more so than most of my clients. Everyone hates their job from time to time. And even though I knew he dealt with a lot of high-value items, he never let on that what he did was dangerous before that session a few weeks ago.”

  “Do you think he trusted you?”

  She shrugged. “He must have. Otherwise he wouldn’t have left me the flash drive.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “I’m not surprised he didn’t go into specifics when talking about his work, though,” Hanna said. “He was a very guarded person in general. It took a while for him to open up.”

  “So if he stumbled into something dangerous, you don’t think he’d necessarily tell you?” Jake asked.

  She thought for a moment. “No. I guess not.”

  “Well whoever is after us thinks he did. Or they know that he trusted you enough to leave something valuable in your possession.”

  “How do you think they found me?”

  Jake shrugged. “When you’re tailing someone, identifying their confidants is easy enough. They were probably watching him for months befo
re attacking him. Tapping his phones, screening his emails. They may have even been listening in on your sessions.”

  Hanna suddenly felt sick. “They can do that?”

  He nodded. “The technology certainly exists. Whether they employed it is another question.”

  Hanna wasn’t sure if it was the stress of the conversation or her pregnancy, but she suddenly felt flushed. Her heart had started racing and she needed fresh air—stat.

  “I need a cold drink,” she said as she fanned herself with her hand. “I’m gonna go get some ice.”

  She grabbed the ice bucket on the stand next to the TV and left the room without another word. This was getting to be too much for her to process, and she needed to take a minute and try to relax.

  Evidently a cool, relaxing drink wasn’t in the stars, though, because when she got to the ice machine, she found it broken.

  “Oh come on,” she said, slapping the top of the machine. It made a grinding sound, but no ice spilled into the bucket. She slapped it harder. Still nothing. Hanna realized hitting the machine was its own kind of release, though, so she slapped it once more.

  Clearly Jake had heard her because he emerged in the hallway seconds later. When he saw her standing there with an empty bucket, her face flushed and angry, he laughed.

  “It’s not funny,” she said. “This stupid machine is broken. Of course.”

  “Relax,” he said as he strode over to her. “I bet we can get it working again.” He lifted the bin, and sure enough there was a loose hose dangling over the ice. Jake reached in and reattached it to the mechanism at the top of the bin.

  “There,” he said, taking a step back as if to admire his handiwork. “Now try.”

  Hanna placed the bucket under the spout and pressed the button. Nothing happened.

  Jake sighed. “Hang on.” He pulled the machine about eight inches from the wall and knelt down behind it. She could hear him tinkering with it, but she had no idea what he was doing. Two minutes later, he emerged from behind the machine with a streak of dirt across his cheek. Now he was the one who was getting flushed.