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Olympic broad jump athlete could make that kind of leap from a dead standstill. How in the world does an office jockey manage something like that? You have to be working out, Liam. There’s no other answer.”
                A shadow crossed in front of her. She jerked back again, when there came a knock on the door.
                “Cherron, it’s me.”
                There was no way anyone could imitate that accent. Undoing the locks, she opened the door. Liam slipped inside. He glanced at her, noting her attire, and smiled.
                “Are you ready for some breakfast?”
                At the mention of food, she realized she was hungry. “More than ready. Is the coast clear?”
                “As far as I can tell.” He walked over and picked up the pistol, slipping it into his jeans pocket. Grabbing her suitcase, then his bag of clothes, he followed her outside.
                A few blocks from the motel was a small diner. They went inside to eat, taking a booth near one of the windows where they could keep an eye on the car, and to keep an eye open for anyone suspiciously checking out the car.
                After ordering, Liam leaned over the table, keeping his voice low. “I’ve decided you’re right. We need to let the police know what happened.”
                She almost choked on her coffee. “What changed your mind?”
                “A good night’s sleep.”
                Cherron snorted. “Well, at least one of us slept well.”
                He started to respond, when the temporary cell rang. They both checked the number.
                “It’s not Aaron’s,” she told him.
                “It’s not one I recognize, either,” he admitted. He hit the accept button and put the phone to his ear. “Hello?” His eyes flew open, and he appeared shocked by what he heard. “I’ve heard of you,” he said.
                “What?” Cherron whispered.
                He waved for her to hold on.
                “We’re in a little town in Mississippi, right off Interstate 10. We’re not too far from Gulfport.” He nodded as the voice on the other end continued speaking. She couldn’t make out what was being said, but Liam paid close attention.
                “We’re heading back to New Orleans this morning. I need to contact who? Detective Washoo. Got it. Thank you, Thom. Yes, we will. All right.” He put the phone down.
                “Well?” she insisted. “Who was that? Who’s Detective Washoo?”
                He clasped his hands on the table in front of him, and bowed his head. When he finally spoke, he looked directly at her. “When I escaped from my country, I was one of only thirty others who made it out in time. I’ve kept in contact with a few of them. We’re all connected with one another through a very complex communications web.”
                She gave him a perplexed frown. “Are you saying all of the others—”
                “Ruinos. We’re called Ruinos.”
                “Ruinos. Are you telling me the other Ruinos are illegal aliens? I’m assuming they’re all here in the US.”
                “They are. I don’t know if they’ve all managed to get their green cards, but I admit we slipped into this country without permission.”
                Their dishes were delivered, and the waitress refilled their coffee cups. When she left, Cherron leaned over the table. “Liam, are you here on a green card? Is that the real reason why you didn’t want to go to the authorities?”
                “That’s…one of them.”
                She immediately knew the man was still holding something back, but this wasn’t the time or place to pursue it.
                “Who was on the