California Schemin' - Kate George [49]
“Come on, Maddy, I need Bree.”
“She’s been at Wallace’s long enough, Richard. It’s time to get her out of there.”
“If she escapes, Wallace may decide he no longer needs me.”
“You’ve been too valuable to him. He may be mad, but he won’t cut you loose. You were too hard to get in the first place.”
“I’m taking her.” Hammie pushed himself up off the side of the car.
“No, you’re not.” Madison pushed me behind her.
“Um, don’t you guys have a superior officer who could settle this?” I was throwing my lot in with the anonymous boss, who might at least be following the rules. Hopefully, the rules said something about the kidnapped witness getting her life back.
“No.” They spoke together, united against me now. It came to me in a flash that they might not be on the same team, but I wasn’t even in the same league. Whatever their prime objectives were, it wasn’t about getting me home.
“I need to take her in,” Madison said.
“You don’t need to do that. Leave her with me, call your boss, tell him where she is and what you know so far. He can act on that information.”
“Is the boss FBI? Because I was kidnapped and transported across state lines.”
“You weren’t actually kidnapped. You were relocated for your own protection.”
“Relocated? I was knocked unconscious for almost twenty-four hours.”
Madison and Hammie exchanged glances. I could see them realigning allegiances. Think, Bree, who’s the only one who isn’t a cop? I turned and ran.
I had about a three-second start. I sprinted to the mall, yanked open the huge glass door, and ran for the largest department store in the place. The only trouble was that the largest store was also the farthest away. I risked a glance over my shoulder. No one was following me. I stopped in my tracks. Why wouldn’t they be chasing me? I jogged past shops, glancing over my shoulder every couple of seconds. They didn’t appear.
I sat on a bench, the bag with the blue dress in my lap. What possible reason could they have for not following me? I wasn’t that important? That I could believe. I didn’t really know anything. Hammie was right earlier when he said I was a waste of time. Other than the pictures Fogel had taken off my camera I was a no-go as a witness. I hadn’t seen anything except blurry images in a photograph.
The problem was that I was now on my own, which was good, except I didn’t have any ID, money, or transportation. I toyed with stealing Madison’s car. She wouldn’t be stranded, because Hammie could give her a ride. How could I manage it? I set the thought aside as too risky. I’d need the keys and didn’t want to get close enough to whatever kind of agents they were to get them.
I leaned my elbows on my knees and dropped my head in my hands. It wasn’t an impossible situation, was it? I got up off the bench and walked aimlessly down the mall, away from the doors I’d come in.
My neck was throbbing. The physical therapist wasn’t going to be happy with me. Everything I’d done since injuring it was guaranteed to aggravate it. I looked around me for a store that carried one of those electric chair massagers. The thought of sinking into a chair and letting the heat and vibration lull me to sleep was overwhelming. Tears pricked the backs of my eyes, but I blinked them back. Time to get proactive.
As much as I loved the new jacket, it was the one thing I had that I could exchange for money. I picked up the pace and power-walked down the mall to the store where we’d bought the coat. Madison had paid cash for my stuff, and while she’d pocketed the receipt for the other stuff, she’d been distracted when we’d paid for the jacket, and the clerk had put the receipt in the bag.
I avoided the clerk who had waited on us and walked to the customer service counter at the back of the store. The clerk took the jacket, and I got Madison’s money. Well, it’s really the FBI’s money, which is funded by my taxes, so it’s my money. Right? I went in search of a pay phone.
As I left the store I heard someone call out to me.
“Yes?” I turned to see the young man who had taken the coat.
“You forgot your