She flung the hair clump away and looked at Delgado. “The next time I see you,” she said, panting, “I’m going to kill you. So you better hope it’s not soon.”
Delgado was too busy coughing out blood to respond.
CHAPTER
37
They moved as fast as they could, but it was slow going given the terrain and Evie’s lack of shoes. Neither of them said anything — it was too dark to talk, and besides, Manus wanted to keep moving. He removed the magazine from Delgado’s gun while they walked, ejected the round in the chamber, wiped everything down, and tossed it all in different directions into the woods.
When they reached his truck, he gave her the purse and shoe from the toolbox. They got in and he put the keys in the ignition. But Evie flipped on the dome light and held out a hand to indicate he should wait.
What was that thumb drive? she signed.
A decoy.
Why?
Manus hesitated, unsure of how to respond. He was going to hurt you.
Evie looked at him for a long moment. Then she signed, Get me home to Dash.
What about your car? It’s still at the supermarket.
Just get me home.
Manus fired up the engine and pulled out. A hundred yards down the dirt road, he glanced over at Evie. She had her cell phone to her ear. Horrified, Manus snatched it away and cut off the call. He looked at her and shook his head violently.
“What?” she said, her eyes wide. “What?”
“Were you calling home?”
She nodded.
“Your apartment,” he said, looking back at the road. “I think it might be bugged.”
He glanced over to see how she reacted to that. Her lips were pursed and she was pale.
He slowed for a curve, then accelerated again. “Were you calling the nanny?” he said. If she had been planning on talking rather than texting, it couldn’t have been Dash.
He glanced over and caught her nod, then looked ahead again. “What did you say to her? They might have been listening.”
He looked over just long enough to catch, “It was still ringing. She hadn’t picked up.”
He focused on driving again. “You have to be careful. They could hear what you say.”
Delgado’s phone vibrated in his pocket. Manus thought, Shit. He pulled out the phone and glanced down at it.
It was the director. Status?
The director must have been all over her phone. He’d seen the call go through and then get interrupted. He wanted to know what was going on.
Manus handed Evie the phone. “It’s the director,” he said, taking another curve in the road. “Text back exactly as I say. Do you understand?”
He glanced over and saw her say, “No, I don’t—”
He looked back at the road. “I can’t drive and read your lips. You have to listen to me and do exactly as I say. Don’t argue, I’ll explain as we go. Okay? Text him, ‘She’s taking us to it. Should know soon.’”
He glanced over and saw she was doing it. He gave her a moment, then said, “Do you understand?”
She shook her head.
He looked back to the road. “If he’s geolocating, he thinks Delgado, you, and I are all together.”
He saw her say, “Delgado?”
“The man in the van. The director thinks Delgado just told him you’re taking us to the thumb drive. If that were true, we wouldn’t let you out of our sight. So the phones have to stay together. And you can’t say anything to the nanny that would be inconsistent with that.”
He went back to driving, and a minute later they were back on paved road. He wanted to hit the gas but couldn’t risk a traffic cop, so he kept it at just over the speed limit, his eyes going from the road to the speedometer and back because he didn’t trust himself to keep it slow and steady.
Evie touched his arm. He glanced over and she held up Delgado’s phone so he could read it. The director had texted, What about the appearances we discussed? A random thing, yes?
Manus felt a wave of anger ripple through him. He had hoped Delgado was lying about the director’s orders. Now he knew better.
“Text him, ‘Had to improvise. We needed her phone. But it’s under control. Will check in soon.’”
He waited, then said, “Is it done?” He glanced over and saw her nod.
The light at Clarksburg Pike was red. He stopped and signed, I know you’re worried about Dash. You can call now. Just be careful of what you say. An emergency at work, you’re on your way home now. Say… you’re on your way to pick something up. If he’s listening, that will make him feel better.
She nodded, then input some numbers and put the phone to her ear. The conversation lasted only a few seconds. He couldn’t read it well from the side. The light turned green and he turned left. When he looked over again, the phone was back in her lap. She was crying — more from relief, he sensed, than from pain.
“Is Dash okay?”
She nodded and wiped her face.
“Evie,” he said, his eyes going back and forth from her to the road. “Don’t worry. It’s going to be okay.”
He wished he could believe it.
A minute later, she touched his arm. He glanced over. “It’s ringing,” she said. “It’s him. The director.”
Too much was happening. Manus couldn’t think it all through. He needed more time. He said, “Text him, ‘Can’t talk now.’”
He kept driving. She touched his arm again and held up the phone. Another text from the director: If she told you it’s in her apartment, she’s lying. She hasn’t been there since retrieving it from Rockville this morning.
“Fuck. Text, ‘Got that. We’re going to get the boy. She’ll give it to us then.’”
He glanced over. She was staring at him, her eyes wide. He looked at the road again, then back at her.
“Text him.”
She shook her head.
He shifted his gaze back to the road. “Evie, we have to respond.” He waited, then glanced at her again. She was shaking her head and signing, Stop the car.
There was a turnout just ahead. He pulled over and looked at her.
Are you going to hurt me? she signed, tears welling up in her eyes. Or Dash?
Manus looked left, then right, feeling trapped, fighting panic. She leaned in and gripped his arm until he looked at her again.
Are you?
No, he signed, shaking his head emphatically.
The tears spilled down her cheeks. She covered her face with her hands and shook. Manus leaned forward and stroked her hair for a moment. Then he took hold of her hands and gently pulled them away so she could see him.
But someone will. If we don’t figure out what to do first.
She nodded, then blew out a long breath and began inputting a message. Manus felt sick that he was piling new lies to the director upon the existing ones. He needed to think, to take control. But things were happening so fast, all he could do was react.
Five minutes later, he was circling her building. She touched his shoulder. He glanced over and she signed, Stop.
He shook his head and kept driving, his head swiveling, his eyes on every ambush position they passed. “We have to be careful,” he said. He hoped she understood. He knew this was all new to her. She didn’t understand how suddenly a mistake could happen, or what it would cost.
He did two complete circuits. He didn’t see anything that rubbed him the wrong way. But he had a bad feeling. The kind he had learned to trust.