Rising Hope by Edie James
27
Moonlight slashed through the trees,washing the deserted road in harsh white light. Enzo’s hands shook on the wheel. The nausea had faded, but not, unfortunately, the headache. Hardly the worst of his problems.
The red arrow on the fuel indicator hovered just above a quarter of a tank. From the instant Panetta pulled the trigger, Enzo’s life changed forever. Sarah’s too.
The disaster pressed down on him, squeezing his lungs until he couldn’t breathe. They’d be accused of murder. And theft. He could practically feel the weight of those duffel bags, dragging him under the surface of the ocean, pulling him down to the crushing depths.
Sarah might have some spy-like skills, but he had zero in the way of tradecraft. Flying, surfing, and rock climbing weren’t going to get them very far.
Whatever happened next, they couldn’t keep racing down the road without a plan. He slowed more than necessary, taking the next curve at a crawl. The hills in the area were full of small ranches and vineyards, plenty of places to pull off the road for a few minutes.
He turned off at the next opportunity, pulling onto a dirt road that wound up into the hills.
Sarah whirled on him. “Why are you stopping?”
He eased the van around behind a stand of Live Oaks, dousing the lights before he killed the engine. He swiveled around in his seat and stared her down. “We need a plan. I mean after you steal us a car.” His stomach lurched. Stealing cars. What kind of plan was that?
“I know.” She grimaced in the moonlight.
That made him want to laugh. Why people thought moonlight was romantic, always escaped him. Mysterious? Sure. Also creepy, and downright disturbing.
He cocked his head. “How do you plan to figure out who’s behind this if we’re busy running from motel to motel?”
She scrubbed a hand over her face. “That’s an excellent point.” Her eyes shot to the back of the van. They couldn’t run with the drugs.
He opened his mouth to point out the obvious, but she put up a hand. “I know,” she said. “I’ll think of something.”
His heart sank. If she didn’t trust her supervisors to help, this wouldn’t go quickly. Or well.
But he trusted his. “I can talk to my CO.”
He expected her to protest, but she surprised him by nodding slowly. “That’s not a bad idea. Commander Paulson is new to this interagency team. We should consider that First, though, I have someone I can contact. I want to see what’s being said at the higher levels of the DEA before we reveal ourselves to anyone.”
“You’re gonna do that soon, right?”
“Let’s dump this van and find a place to hole up for the night. Then I’ll make the call.”
He whipped out his wallet and checked inside. “I’ve got about a hundred bucks. We can’t use cards, I figure.”
“Or any means of communication except for my burner phones,” she added. “You can use the first one to contact your family and I’ll save the last two for emergencies.”
“Like this isn’t one?” he joked.
She didn’t laugh. “It’s only the beginning.”
Exactly what he was afraid of. He started the engine back up, running through options in his mind. Their worlds had been upended in the blink of an eye. Down was up. Wrong was right.
At least he still had his faith. He lifted a prayer.
Boy, do I need you Lord. In the worst possible way. Guide us toward the light.
Always toward the light.
He edged the van back out onto the road. This was no different than an epic wipeout. More dangerous, sure, but the same principles must apply. When he got doused by a wave, all he had to do was stay calm. Be still. He always floated toward the surface.
They’d find a way home. The Lord would see to it.
Sarah was watching him with a bemused expression. He smiled softly, wishing he could instill his faith in her. It helped. So very much. But belief didn’t work like that.
She’d have to forge her own relationship with the Lord. All he could do was be a beacon, lighting the way.