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street smart for a cop’s sister, is she?”
    The comment made Gabe bristle with insult. “She’s a grade school teacher, sheltered. I’m surprised she made it this far without getting killed. They blew up her house.”
    “I see. I met her at headquarters. She looks a lot like her sister, pretty little thing.”
    “Shut up, Mac. There was nothing between Roarke and I. She was a partner and friend. That’s all.”
    Mac never passed up the chance to rib him about the pretty cop. What he’d said was true. As much as he physically was attracted to her, that was where it stopped for him, but it had been his fault she was killed. He owed her vengeance. Nothing more.
    “Okay, okay. Remember that art theft case a couple of years back? There’s a safe house we used as headquarters for the op. As soon as you can, get off the interstate and take the exit to a place called Waynesboro, Tennessee.”
    “Okay.”
    “The main part of town is laid out like an old town square with four exits. Go straight from the entrance and take the second road out of the square. Go six miles and you’ll see a large white farmhouse with a screened-in porch on your right. The key is in a combination lock box under the small metal bridge that crosses the brook at the side of the house. Combination is 1988. Sit tight. I’ll come to you.” Mac clicked off.
    He took the next exit with a lodging sign, yawning as he pulled into a gravel parking lot with a blinking motel sign overhead. The place left a lot to be desired, but the structure appeared sound, if in need of renovation. He wished he’d chosen a different vehicle, or at least a different color. The shiny yellow Jeep would stick out like a sore thumb in the empty parking lot and prove a sure identifier for the men after them. They would have to ditch it before the next stop.
    Gabriel tried to wake Lea, but she barely stirred. The blue windbreaker she wore was thin, allowing him to follow the line of her shoulder with his hand. He found himself wanting to kiss her awake, but noting the dark circles under her eyes, he wondered when she’d last felt secure enough to really sleep. Besides, he didn’t have the right.
    He locked the doors, cracked the windows. Lea had dragged him into this mess. They would have to start trusting each other, if they wanted to survive. They had a good lead on their tag, but who’d sent the thugs? Smythe? Or someone else? Gabe walked over to the glass and steel enclosure where the motel caretaker sat.
    “Help, you?” The ancient night man at the desk spoke in a deep hacking rasp that betrayed a lifetime smoking habit, from behind a little round metal grate in what Gabe assumed was bulletproof glass. Always a great sign. An idea came to him as he thought about signing the card. From here on out, they’d be going under the radar. He let his voice slip into a deep burr.
    “Aye. I need a room for the night.”
    The old keeper looked toward the Jeep and the redheaded girl, and leered. It was obvious what usually went on here, by the man’s expression.
    Might be a good idea to sleep on top of the sheets.
    “Sure, got one room.”
    The lot was empty. Gabe frowned. “One hundred dollars, first night. Stay awhile, price drops. Pretty little thing you got there. Expecting company?”
    Inside Gabe went hot with rage, but outwardly his face was a mask of concern. “No. My wife and I have been on the road awhile.” He nodded toward Lea. “She’s pregnant. Traveling is not agreeing with her.” He signed the registry Duncan and Allaina McKade. “Going to her ma’s for a visit.” He concluded the transaction before the nosy old man could ask more questions, and went back to the Jeep with his key in hand.
    He pulled in front of thirty-four and killed the engine. Touching Lea lightly on the shoulder, he tried to wake her. The little witch stretched out into a sinuous bow, mumbled something hot and dark, and then held up welcoming arms. He accepted them, thinking it