Assignment: Marriage. Jackie Merritt
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began snapping off lamps. The house was already locked and as secure as it could get.
“Well…guess I’m ready,” she said listlessly.
John Harper offered a consoling smile. “Nicole, this will all be over in no time. You’ll see.”
She wasn’t consoled. Weeks—maybe months—away from her home and job didn’t seem like “no time” to her.
John pulled an envelope out of his inside coat pocket. “Scott filled you in on destination and identity. Tom’s been given most of the money, but we thought you should have some, too, just in case.”
Nicole took the envelope. “In case of what, John? Tom’s trustworthy, isn’t he?”
“He’s the best there is, Nicole. Don’t worry about that. He’s got eleven years with the department and has experience in every phase of law enforcement.”
“Tom’s not his real name.”
“No.”
Looking around one last time, Nicole sighed. “Come on,” John said gently. “You’ve got a long trip ahead of you.”
“One more question, John. Why are we driving to Idaho, rather than flying?”
“Everyone thought it would be best, Nicole. We’re keeping your departure as low-key as possible. There’s very little way of telling if some stranger follows you onto a plane, but driving north out of Vegas, the road is long and empty. Tom will know if anyone’s behind you.”
Nicole left several lights burning in the house, at John’s suggestion. They went through the back door and Nicole locked the dead bolt. She was carrying her purse, into which she’d tucked the envelope of cash. Her suitcases were jammed with clothes of every description. No one knew how long she’d have to stay away, and that was probably the hardest part of this whole discomfiting ordeal. At John Harper’s instruction she’d written a dozen cards to friends, all with the same carefully worded message. Family emergency calls me away. Don’t worry. I’ll be in touch. Hopefully the simple message would forestall someone panicking and raising a public fuss because they couldn’t reach her.
Tuck was leaning against the car. He straightened as Nicole and John approached. “All set?”
“All set,” John said quietly.
“Who’s driving?” Nicole questioned.
“I am,” Tuck said flatly.
Nicole got in the passenger side, Tuck got behind the wheel. John leaned down to peer through the open window. “Take care.”
“Yeah,” Tuck drawled, and started the motor.
Nicole fastened her seatbelt. The car backed out of her driveway without lights. They were two blocks away from her house before Tuck switched on the headlights. Nicole was battling tears and looking straight ahead.
Tuck took a maze of back streets to reach Highway 95. The fuel gauge indicated a full tank of gas. They wouldn’t have to make a stop for hours. He glanced at the woman sitting so silently and registered her rigid profile.
Her silence was welcome. He turned his attention back to the road.
Once out of Vegas the road became black and almost eerily vacant. Highway 95 was an important link between Las Vegas and Reno, but away from those two cities, Nevada’s roads were sparsely traveled. Ten, fifteen minutes would pass between oncoming cars. There were none behind him, Tuck was certain. None with headlights at least.
He eyed his silent companion. “Mind if I turn on the radio?”
Nicole’s head barely moved in a brief glance. “Go ahead.”
Tuck turned on the power, drove with one hand and fiddled with the radio with the other, trying to pick up a station. After a few minutes he gave up. “There’s nothing but static.” The car was an inexpensive blue sedan, and apparently the radio was a weakly powered model.
Driving the dark road, Tuck’s thoughts turned to his last session with Dr. Keaton. I’m not going to preach to you, Tuck. You’re going to have to deal with your conscience in your own way. You did nothing wrong, and that’s what you must come to accept. He had answered, I did nothing illegal, Doc. She had slowly nodded her understanding.
He understood, too, which relieved none of the tension in his gut. What else could he ever be but a cop? And yet he couldn’t see himself back on the street and dealing with the myriad problems he’d previously faced so confidently.
This trip, this witness protection job, was eating at him. He shouldn’t have let Joe talk him into it. He didn’t want to protect anyone. He wasn’t wearing his gun, although he had it with him, tucked under his seat on the floor of the car. Joe had described the job as “cushy,” and maybe it would be. He’d been to northern Idaho once before and liked what he’d seen. Certainly it was different from southern Nevada, with lush, green-forested mountains and numerous lakes. Beautiful scenery, unquestionably. And the chance of Lowicki and Spencer tracking Cheryl so far north, once they discovered there was a witness who could unequivocally tie them to the murders, was slim to none.
But spending weeks with a woman he didn’t know, nor had any desire to know, was damn disturbing. He really hadn’t thought about the witness’s gender when Joe first brought up the subject, assuming, obviously, that they were talking about a man.
Well, there was nothing manly about “Cheryl King.” She was pure woman, every inch of her, and some exotic scent wafted his way every time she moved.
She wasn’t moving very much, he had to admit. It was as though her gaze was glued to the windshield. In the dash lights, her silhouette was board-stiff.
Tuck sent her a more open glance. “You don’t like this, do you?”
Nicole started, as though coming awake. “Pardon?”
“This whole setup. You don’t like it.”
She looked at the man behind the wheel. “No, I don’t like it.” She studied Tom for another moment, then returned her eyes to the road. “Have you done this before?”
“Not exactly,” he admitted.
“Scott said you have experience in all phases of law enforcement.”
“I’ve gone undercover before, just not to this extent. Doubt if too many people have gone to this extent,” he added dryly.
“I keep wondering if it’s really necessary,” Nicole said with some bitterness. “I’m probably going to lose my job over it.”
Tuck sent her another glance. “What do you do?”
“I’m the purchasing agent for the Monte Carlo.”
“I’m impressed.”
“Well, don’t be. I’ll probably have to start over as a clerk.”
Tuck’s lips tightened. He could lay all sorts of lies on her, but the fact was that right now no one could predict the outcome of this case.
“What I don’t understand,” Nicole said in that same bitter tone, “is why they’re sending me so far away. Why not L.A.? Or Phoenix? At least we wouldn’t have to drive for days.”
“We’ll be there before tomorrow night,” Tuck answered.
“Meaning you’re planning to drive straight through. Great,” Nicole said disgustedly. “I can’t think of anything I’d rather do for twenty-four hours than ride, ride, ride.”
Tuck sent her a cold glance. “You probably have a right to gripe, but I don’t want to hear it. Complaining isn’t going to do one damn bit of good. And it won’t