Long Road Home by Maya Banks
As soon as the car was out of sight, Jules stepped out of the bus depot and hurried down the street. She fingered the wad of bills Mrs. Jackson had given her. The beginnings of a plan came to her. At least her brain wasn’t completely fried.
After getting directions to a local boutique, she headed in that direction. If she was going to pull off her plan, she needed to look hot.
Chapter Six
Manuel stood outside the sixth door he had knocked on and waited impatiently for an answer. He was getting nowhere fast. He’d found the discarded shoe covers in the hills above the subdivision. Wet and muddy, hospital issue. Yeah, Jules had been close, and she might have sought refuge in one of these houses.
The door finally opened and a forty-something lady with frizzy blonde hair stood looking questioningly at him. Emblazoned across her chest were the words Jesus Freak.
He flashed a badge, one that identified him as a local policeman, and left it open long enough for her to get a good look. “Good afternoon, ma’am. I wonder if you could help me. I’m looking for someone, and I wonder if you’ve seen her.” He held out a picture of Jules with his other hand.
Fingers with long, well-manicured, fire-engine-red nails plucked the picture out of his hand and held it up. She pursed her lips then held the photo back out to him. “Sorry, haven’t seen her.”
Manuel frowned slightly and studied her expression. Something odd flickered in her eyes. It looked like anger. And she hadn’t asked him any questions as so many of the other neighbors had.
“If you could just take another look,” he cajoled. “It’s very important that I find her. She’s in a lot of danger.”
Again, some nameless emotion flickered in her eyes. This time he read uncertainty. Excitement mounted within him.
She leveled a hard stare at him. “I said I haven’t seen her. Now if that is all?”
He had to get inside the house. “Thank you for your help, ma’am. Do you mind if I use your bathroom?”
She looked suspiciously at him, and for a moment, he thought she’d refuse. “Can I see your identification again?”
He held the badge with his photo and “name” up to her once more. After a long perusal, she pinched her lips together and opened the door wider. “Down the hall on the right.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. If the woman had any sense, she would have slammed the door in his face. How many cops would actually ask to use someone’s facilities while in search of a suspect? He smiled reassuringly at her and stepped inside, his gaze absorbing every detail as he slowly walked down the hall. Some of the rooms were open as he passed, and he took quick stock. If only he had time to search the whole house.
He stepped inside the large bathroom and shut the door behind him. After a moment he flushed the toilet then hurriedly opened the cabinets, rifling through the contents. He had no idea what he was looking for, perhaps something to tell him Jules had been there.
He turned on the faucet like he was washing up then transferred his attention to the garbage can. He carefully picked away the top layer. Toilet paper, a few tissues, a wad of hair. Yuck. An empty box of hair dye. No doubt the woman changed her hair color every week. A few cotton balls. Damn. Nothing out of the ordinary.
He stood up and turned the faucet off, disappointment tightening his features. He opened the door to go when his gaze flitted back over the box of hair color. Red.
Frowning, he stared at it for a long moment. The woman was blonde. A fresh blonde judging by the consistency in the color. No roots showing, and no hint of red.
A slow smile spread across his face. “I got you, Jules,” he murmured. Why the lady was going to such lengths to protect her he couldn’t understand, but then Jules was proving to be more of a challenge than he could have possibly imagined.
Leaving the bathroom, he walked back to the foyer where the woman waited by the door. She frowned at him again. “You aren’t going to hurt that young lady you’re looking for, are you?”
“No ma’am,” he said with utmost sincerity. “I care a great deal about her, and I’m going to find her before some rather unsavory people do.”
She studied him for a long moment then laid a hand on his arm. “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but you seem like a sincere young man, and well, I’ve been told on more than one occasion that I’m a trusting old fool.”
“What is it?” he asked. “Did you see her?”
“I took her to the bus station this morning. Gave her some money for a ticket.” She sighed heavily then pinned him with a determined glare. “If you hurt that young lady, I’ll hunt you down and cut off your balls.”
Manuel sobered. “You don’t have to worry, ma’am. Jules is very special to me.”
The woman’s expression softened. “Is that her name? Jules?”
“Yeah. I gave it to her,” he said quietly, remembering the day he had named a two-year-old little girl with an unruly mop of curls and innocent blue eyes.
“You find her then and take good care of her.”
“I’ll do that, ma’am. Thank you for helping her.”
“I just wish I could have done more,” she said with a frown as Manuel backed out of the doorway. “Poor thing looked like death warmed over.”
Manuel’s stomach clenched as he waved to the woman and headed for his car. Jules was in no condition to be running all over the country. She needed to be in a hospital bed resting.
He drove immediately to the bus depot and headed inside. Doubt nagged at him as he surveyed the terminal. It was too obvious. And one thing he was fast learning about Jules was that she did nothing that was obvious.
Still, on the off chance that she’d slipped up, he questioned the person at the ticket counter. He struck out there and turned his attention to the passengers waiting for buses. Twenty minutes later, he knew his suspicions had been right.
The woman had driven her here, but had Jules actually left on the bus? More and more he was convinced that Jules wanted it to look like she had.
Manuel walked out of the bus station and continued down the street. He had a lot of ground to cover and not much time to do it in.
Jules breathed a huge sigh of relief as she climbed down from the cab of the eighteen-wheeler and waved goodbye. She teetered unsteadily on the high heels she was wearing and quickly adjusted her sunglasses.
“Sure I can’t do anything else for you, sweet thing?” the trucker asked with a broad smile.
“You’ve been more than kind,” she said through gritted teeth. She slammed the door and hobbled into the truck stop.
At least four sets of eyes followed her into the bathroom. She couldn’t get out of this clothing quick enough. The miniskirt gave new definition to the word mini. She stripped it off in disgust and dug out a pair of jeans from her bag. The sneakers Mrs. Jackson had given her were decidedly more comfortable than the three-inch heels she’d donned in Grand Junction. She pulled a T-shirt over her head then put on a zip-up sweat jacket with a hood.
When she was dressed, she began washing the heavy makeup off her face. Then she pulled off the platinum blonde wig she had stolen off a mannequin and brushed her red hair behind her ears.
The reflection in the mirror was of a young college student, not the siren who had flirted with a trucker to get a ride to Denver. Now all she had to do was go to the building where she had rented an apartment and recover the locker key. Not so easy when she was sure the apartment was staked out.
Stuffing the clothes into the garbage can, she eased out of the bathroom and headed back outside. As expected, no one paid her any attention. She was scruffy compared to the blonde bombshell who’d just come in.
Manny. Her insides twisted. Was he looking for her? She knew the answer to that. He was probably frantic with worry. Guilt riddled her gut for what she had done.
You didn’t have a choice. He was someone Northstar would use against her to gain her compliance. Just as he had done for the last three years. And if she refused, Manny would die.
Still, it didn’t make her feel any better about betraying him. She wondered if he used the same cell phone. She had long ago committed the number to memory. No. She couldn’t chance it.
What would it hurt? At least he would know she was safe. It wasn’t like calling Northstar, where he’d know where she was inside of five seconds. This was Manny. And it was killing her to imagine the agony he must be enduring. He’d already lost the Trehans.
She closed her eyes. She’d call him from the bus station. For now, she had to get going.
She put several blocks between her and the truck stop before stopping at a pay phone to call a cab. After fifteen minutes, the cab pulled up, and she instructed him to drive to the downtown high-rise apartment building she’d briefly stayed in.
Denver. The Mile High City. Even in her circumstances, she’d appreciated the beautiful city when she had first arrived weeks ago. It was a study in contrast. So modern and sleek against the backdrop of the rugged Rocky Mountains.
Something about those mountains called to her. They had told her she could hide in them and never be found. But they had lied.
She blinked when the cab came to a stop. “Can you wait for me? I’ll just be a minute.”
The cabbie grunted a reply, and she quickly got out. Though it appeared she stared straight ahead, she took in her surroundings, relying on her instincts.
She headed for the concierge’s desk. His eyes flickered in recognition when he saw her. She leaned in close. “The envelope. Do you still have it?”
His wary gaze went beyond her as he surveyed the room. Reaching down, he dug a manila envelope out of a drawer and slid it across the counter to her.
She thanked him then took the envelope and hurried out to the waiting cab. “To the bus station on Nineteenth Street,” she instructed.
She settled back against the seat and tore open the envelope. To her relief, everything she had put in it was still there. Money, multiple passports and, most importantly, the key. She wouldn’t feel totally safe until she had retrieved the contents of her locker.
Several long minutes later, she got out at the bus station and hurried inside after paying the cabbie. She shouldered through the people in the terminal and walked in the direction of the lockers. Two people were there storing away items, and so she waited until they were finished before she scanned the numbers, looking for fifty-four. She inserted the key into the lock and yanked it open. A large black bag hung from a hook. She glanced around again to make sure she wasn’t being watched then reached in and grabbed the bag.
She stuffed the envelope inside the bag, not taking the time to survey the contents. It was all there, and with the security cameras present all over the depot, she couldn’t afford to raise any suspicion.
Slinging it over her shoulder, she walked in the direction of the pay phones, warring with herself over whether to call Manny or not.
She stood in front of the booth holding the receiver in her hand. A few seconds wouldn’t hurt. Just enough time to let him know she was okay. And that she was sorry.
She punched in the numbers to a long-ago memorized calling card and waited with a sick stomach.
He answered on the second ring.
“Manny?”
“Jules. Where are you?” He sounded angry.
“I can’t tell you that.”
“I see. And what can you tell me?”
“That I’m sorry,” she said after a long pause. “I know you don’t understand, but I just wanted you to know…”
“What do you want me to know?”
“I love you, Manny, and I don’t want you to get hurt. And if you’re anywhere near me, I can’t guarantee that you won’t die just like…like Mom and Pop did.” She closed her eyes and bit her lip.
“Jules, baby.” His voice softened. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
“There’s even more you don’t know about me. And I won’t be responsible for your death. You’re the only person I have left in this world, and if it means never seeing you again, then I can accept that. At least you’ll be alive.”
“Just tell me where you are, Jules. I’ll come and get you.”
“I’ve got to go, Manny. I love you.”
“Damn it, Jules—”
She hung up and leaned her forehead on the receiver.
She shuffled back to the ticket counter and surveyed the schedule. The next bus out was to Kansas City. She’d go there and plot her next move.
After purchasing the ticket, she walked to the correct terminal and checked the clock on the wall. Fifteen minutes until it departed. The bus was just pulling in and letting passengers off. Then she could get on.
She tapped her foot impatiently as the people swarmed off the bus. Again she glanced at the clock, irritated to note the departure was behind schedule. The fifteen minutes had stretched to twenty-five. Finally, the last passengers got off, and she started forward.
“Going somewhere, Jules?”
Chapter Seven
Jules froze then slowly turned around. Her face was ashen, her blue eyes large in her face. “Manny? How did you…?”
“The wonders of modern technology.”
“But how?” She looked at him in complete bewilderment. At least she wasn’t running. Yet.
“I was already in Denver when you called. I was able to keep you on long enough to pinpoint your location.”
“But I used a calling card.” She shook her head in disbelief. Not just any calling card, but a code that routed her call through half the freaking world. No way should he have been able to trace her call. “I don’t understand. How could you possibly trace my call? Who are you?”
Fear crept into her eyes, and his stomach turned over. The last thing he wanted was for her to be afraid of him.
“Do you really want to have this conversation here?” he asked, gesturing at all the people milling about.
Her eyes darted around, still luminous with fear. “You have to get away from me, Manny. If you’re seen with me…”
She trailed off, but her meaning was clear.
“Stop trying to protect me, Jules. It’s my job to protect you now.”
She blew out her breath in frustration. “You don’t understand.”
“I understand that you are going with me. Now.” He enunciated each word and stared intently at her, refusing to back down.
She shrank away as he reached out for her arm.
“Don’t make me pick you up and carry you out of here, Jules.”
“Don’t threaten me.” Anger flashed in her eyes. Her hands shook discernibly. She looked close to her breaking point.
Knowing he would win no arguments, he simply plucked her up and cradled her against his chest. She lay there stunned, her mouth open. Then she started struggling.
He tightened his grip on her. “You’re making a scene. Do you want everyone to notice you?”
She stilled instantly, but she glared up at him. “Put me down.”
“I’ll put you down if you agree to come with me.”
“Okay, damn it. Just let me go.”
He let her slide from his arms, but he kept a tight hold on her hand. “My car is outside. Let’s go.”
He pulled her along behind him and all but shoved her into the sleek BMW he had driven to Denver. “Put your seatbelt on,” he directed as he slid into the driver’s seat.
She glared at him again but complied.
“By the way, red isn’t your color.”
Her mouth tightened, and she stared defiantly out the window. Then she turned back to him, her eyes blazing. “How did you find me? How did you recognize me?”
Manuel keyed the ignition but didn’t put the car in gear. He glanced over at Jules. “Do you honestly think a little hair dye is going to make me not see you?” he asked softly. “When your face,