Long Road Home(7)



She surveyed the back of the house, looking for the telltale sticker on a window or door advertising that the house had a security system. Finding none, she chanced moving toward the back door. It was locked, something she had expected. She’d prefer not to break in if she could avoid it. She moved to a set of windows not far from the door and tried each one.

A surge of elation swept over her when one slid quietly upward. Throwing her leg over the sill, she slipped inside, closing the window behind her. She did a quick survey of the house. Typical four-bedroom suburban house. Large kitchen, two family rooms, three bathrooms, dining room and master suite.

During her search of one of the bathrooms, she found several boxes of hair color. So the woman of the house liked to experiment, if the multiple colors were any clue.

Jules chose a box of red and quickly went about wetting her hair in the sink and applying the color. She didn’t know how much time she had, and she intended to make the most of it.

When she was finished, she surveyed the end result in the mirror. It wasn’t the best dye job in the world, but it achieved the desired effect. She had gone from being a blonde to a redhead. At least temporarily.

Careful to layer the box under the trash already in the garbage can, she exited the bathroom and went in search of a place to rest and lay low. If the people who owned the house had a guest room, chances were when they returned, they wouldn’t even know she was there. And if they discovered her, she’d cross that bridge when she got there.

She entered a room less cluttered than the others and assumed this was a spare bedroom. She eyed the bed, a four-poster with a bedspread that swept the floor on all sides. From her vantage point by the door, she couldn’t see under the bed. Perfect, as long as there was room for her.

The plush carpet felt good to her bare feet as she padded to the other side of the bed. Kneeling on the floor, she lifted the skirt of the bedspread and peered underneath. Triumph surged through her veins. Her thin frame would fit easily.

She slithered underneath the bed and curled into a comfortable position. Fatigue was overpowering all rational thought. For now she had to rest. She couldn’t go on any more. Tomorrow she’d figure out a way to get to Denver and to the duffle bag she had stowed in the locker at the bus depot.

Chapter Five

Manuel stirred and opened his eyes, his mind fuzzy and disjointed. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep. Hadn’t even realized he was so tired.

As the room came into focus, he saw a man crumpled on the floor in front of him. He came awake instantly and surged to his feet. Jules.

He swung around to find the bed empty and swore. Throwing open the door, he stumbled into the hall, looking in both directions. The nurse in the hallway gave him an inquisitive look.

“Where is she?” he demanded. “Did you see her?”

“Who are you talking about?” the nurse asked as she drew closer.

“Jules. She’s gone.”

The nurse dropped her tray and sprinted toward the nurse’s station. After a few seconds the intercom system blared out a message for hospital personnel to be on the lookout for a patient matching Jules’s description.

Manuel slipped back inside and took the guard’s pulse. It was strong. Manuel strode toward the bed, glancing quickly around for some sign of struggle. The IV line hung limply to the floor, a pool of liquid spreading underneath it.

His gaze lighted on his coffee cup, the one Jules had asked for a drink out of. “Fucking idiot,” he swore at himself. Jules had never drunk coffee a day in her life. She’d drugged him.

Worry then anger flashed over him. What the hell was she running from, and why didn’t she trust him? He didn’t know this Jules at all. She wasn’t the same woman he’d loved for so long. For the first time since she’d disappeared, hope died a long death.

He strode from the room, pulled out his cell phone and punched in Tony’s number.

“What’s up, man?”

“Jules is gone,” Manuel bit out.

“What do you mean gone?”

“As in drugged me and disappeared.”

“Oh shit. Have any leads on her?”

“I’m searching the hospital now, but I imagine she’s got a pretty good head start.”

“Manuel,” Tony began, then broke off. Silence hung over the phone line.

“Yeah.”

“Stop thinking of her as little Jules Trehan. Think of her as an assignment. You need a clear head for this. You can track anyone. You just need objectivity.”

“I know.” He sighed. This was going to suck. “I need you to notify the local police. Put an APB out on her, but be careful to list her as a missing person, not a possible criminal.” An image of the guard in the hospital room flashed across his mind. “On second thought, forget the local police. I don’t want her to feel threatened. I’m not sure what she would do. Do we have anyone local?”

“Not sure. I’ll have to do some hacking to find out,” Tony said with a little too much excitement.

Manuel cursed his own indecision. Calling in other agents, while helpful, would also place Jules at greater risk. Never before had he suffered a lack of trust in his own agency, but it couldn’t be construed so much as a lack of trust as it was the knowledge that other agents would be bound to a code he himself wasn’t currently following. If Jules was in trouble, she needed help. Someone else would just haul her in for questioning.

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