A Fare To Remember_ Just Whistle_Driven - Vicki Lewis Thompson [60]
Well, Mario had remembered the building. She’d had to guess on the rest. Luckily for her, all the other apartments were occupied and this one, from the looks of it, had government stash house written all over it. She was also quite fortunate that a fifty-dollar bill slipped to the super had gotten her inside. Clearly, if the secret agency that Roman was working for used this place, they weren’t anymore.
Comfort hadn’t been a consideration in the decor, but Rachel made do on the faded, dusty couch sitting dead center in the room. She waited just over two hours, finally dozing off with her cheek pressed against the arm and her legs folded safely beneath her. She woke to a light knock, but she didn’t rise. She waited. Seconds later, the locks surrendered to keys.
She should have been shocked to see him, surprised that he’d followed her breadcrumbs, but instead, relief washed over her the minute her eyes connected with Roman’s steely-blue gaze. The possibility that she’d be greeted by an austere government agent ordering her to keep her nose out of serious spy business had definitely occurred to her—and to Mario, who insisted on waiting at the curb. If he hadn’t heard from Rachel by sundown, he was coming up to get her.
But now she concerned herself only with Roman as he slid inside and locked the door behind him. His face held no emotion, except, perhaps, a tiny glimmer of sadness.
“You came,” she said, her voice deep and raspy after her unplanned nap. She sat up, stretched, cleared her throat.
“I shouldn’t have,” Roman replied.
“Then why did you?”
“Because you asked.”
Volume wasn’t needed in the enclosed space of the apartment. His words echoed off the bare walls. Roman then turned and revealed a panel near the door, then cursed when he found the compartment empty.
“What’s missing?”
“Jamming device. In case anyone is listening. This safe house isn’t used anymore. They released it yesterday.”
Rachel nodded. “That’s why I had no trouble getting in.”
“We can’t talk here.”
He held his hand out to her and Rachel’s fingers itched to touch his. But what price would she pay for feeling his warmth against her skin, even for an instant? She’d come here only to hear his explanation, to understand why he’d chosen her and what pawn’s part she played in this intriguing chess game. Because perhaps she’d played no role at all. Maybe she’d just been a woman he couldn’t resist. Maybe she’d just been a decoy. Or worse, a distraction.
She stood on her own and ignored his proffered hand.
“Where can we go?”
Without warning, he snatched her hand, which she immediately tried to yank away.
“Let go of me.”
“We need to get out of here quickly.”
She tugged harder as he turned to undo the locks. “Mario is waiting for me. He’ll call the police if he thinks for one minute that I’m in danger.”
“Mario knows I’m here.”
For a long, intense moment, he stared into her eyes.
“He trusts you?”
“I had him move his car to the alley around back, just in case. I’m sure he’ll take us somewhere we can talk, unheard.”
She stopped struggling. No way would Mario succumb to Roman’s charm. She seemed to be the only one who had trouble resisting that particular weapon. If Mario trusted Roman, she could, too. For the moment, at least.
They exited through a back door, cutting through a stinking alley, and after Roman picked the padlock on an iron gate, he directed her onto a side street lined with old, sagging oaks. Mario had pulled up to the curb only a few steps away, so soon they were inside and speeding down the street. Roman leaned forward and murmured instructions into Mario’s ear. The older man nodded, then