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I’ll tell them the truth. That I saw you, you scared me—which you did—and that I dropped my purse—which I did.”
    “Thank you, Karly,” Ian said and pushed the door open.
    “Any cops out there?”
    He glanced the length of the building. “Not yet.” He stepped into the back alley parking lot.
    “But they will be soon.” Jackie clicked the remote and Ian started when the Ford Taurus next to him beeped to life.
    “Guess that’s it.”
    “Guess so. Climb in.” She opened the door and Gus bounded into the driver’s seat and then on into the back.
    “Where are we going?” he asked as he shut the door.
    “To my grandfather’s cabin. It’s a good idea and we need to be able to talk without looking over our shoulder every three seconds.” She cranked the car, backed up, and drove down the back alley behind the store until she came to the end of the strip. Blue lights flashed behind her and Ian tensed his hand reaching for the car handle. “Relax,” she murmured. “He’s not following us.”
    Ian didn’t take his eyes from the side mirror. “Yet.”
    She pressed the gas pedal, pulled out around the side of the building, and flipped the car lights off. Darkness encased them. He looked left. The bookstore parking lot held a dozen law enforcement vehicles. He wondered if the FBI had been called in yet. He might not have been officially named a suspect, but he knew it was only a matter of time.
    “They’re going to be stopping everyone shortly,” Jackie said. “We need to get out of here before that happens.”
    “I’m surprised it hasn’t already happened.”
    “They were being careful not to tip us off. As soon as they discover we’re not in there, the hunt will ramp up.” Jackie turned her headlights back on and continued to the right, past other shops in the strip mall, and then circled around. “Okay, I guess it’s now or never.”
    She made it to the edge of the lot.
    Ian tensed. “Look.” Police cars, a SWAT van, and unmarked cars headed their way.
    “They’re going for the parking lot of the coffee shop,” she said.
    “They think we’re still in there.”
    “Which is going to enable us to slip away.” She turned right onto the road parallel to the parking lot. The interstate lay just ahead.
    Ian thought he might stop breathing before they managed to get on the highway, but somehow, someway, they’d made it. “They’ll be looking for this car.”
    “I know. In about ten minutes, I can get off the highway and take the back roads.”
    Exhaustion swamped him. He leaned his head against the window and closed his eyes as he tried to figure out how he found himself on the run from the cops and the guys who wanted him dead.
    Which may or may not be the same people.

5
    11:00 P.M.
    In the parking lot of the large bookstore, South Carolina Law Enforcement Division Agent Sam Ferguson slammed a fist on the hood of his black Chevy SUV. “How’d they do it? How did they slip away? We had the brother’s phone tapped, officers followed him here, and Lockwood and Sellers still got away. How?”
    FBI Special Agent Elizabeth Miller simply raised an eyebrow and looked around. Organized chaos reigned, but she knew Jackie and Ian were gone. “They’re smart. They didn’t panic and they had a plan for when we showed up. And they stole a car.” She glanced at her phone, then Sam. “Who’s this Jackie Sellers woman?”
    “She works for an agency called Operation Refuge. We have someone locating her co-workers.”
    “Operation Refuge?” Elizabeth pursed her lips. “I’ve heard of that.”
    Sam nodded. “It’s an organization that was set up by the governor a couple of years ago. Or supported by the governor. Or whatever. However it came about, all of their ‘operatives’—for want of a better word—are highly trained people who’ve worked in some area of law enforcement before.”
    “What’s Jackie’s background?”
    “She turned thirty-three two weeks ago. She did four years