Edge of Danger (San Antonio Security #2)

Chapter Eleven

“You sure I can’t get you something to eat?”

Tessa felt sorry for the waitress. The poor woman was only trying to earn a decent tip, or at least to turn over the table in hopes that the next customer to sit there would order a meal and leave a few bucks.

She offered an apologetic smile. “Just coffee for me. Thank you.” The waitress frowned before walking away.

Tessa wanted to spill her guts, to put it all out there. How hungry she was. How the aroma of fried food and juicy burgers made her mouth water and her empty stomach clench up tight.

How almost every cent she had in the world was going to this endless cup of coffee, which at least she could get free refills on. It helped curb her appetite, though not by much.

And being inside the diner gave her someplace warm, dry and safe to while away the hours.

What a fun Friday night she was having.

Looking around, she was reminded of the world still turning. There were people whose lives made sense. People who went out on a Friday night, had fun and went to the diner for a plate of fries or a stack of pancakes to soak up the alcohol they’d just drank. People who got together with friends and talked about their week before comparing weekend plans.

Life went on for these people. They didn’t know what it meant to live one lie after another. What it was like to feel her desperation. Forced to spend endless hours alone with nowhere to go, all so she could be with her baby. So his guardian wouldn’t know about the lies Robert had concocted.

She wasn’t the first person to deal with this, and she knew it. Being homeless, having no money.

Which was probably the only thing that kept her going. Knowing other people also dealt with challenges.

She chuckled at the sight of the purse sitting next to her in the booth. Brax had been so happy when he’d gotten the call that morning from her cell—somebody had turned it in at the police station after finding it in the mall parking lot. It hadn’t gotten far after all.

Even her phone and wallet were still inside. Her driver’s license, all of it.

Except for the money.

Just another cruel joke. Having to pretend to be happy her purse had been found. Brax didn’t know she’d carried all of her money inside. And there was no way of telling him without revealing a whole lot more.

So even though she’d been terrified at the thought of losing Walker for the weekend and distraught at knowing she had no money, she’d marveled over how smart it had been for the officer to call the most recent contact in her cell and ask if they knew her. How lucky she was to have her wallet and phone back.

Right. Lucky.

It was easy to fall into despair, especially when she had the prospect of spending the night in the back seat of Brax’s car to look forward to. Though all things considered, it was better than an alley.

A flash of light reflecting off metal caught her eye, made her look out the window. Pure reflex, nothing more than that.

Reflex fast enough that she was able to catch sight of a pockmarked face staring out from inside a car passing slowly outside.

She knew that face. She’d never forget it. Just like she’d never forget the sound of his voice as he’d warned her to find Robert.

What was she supposed to do? She was trapped, cornered, her heart thudding. The car rounded the block but would be back. She knew it in her bones.

Her hands shook as she dug around for the loose change she’d collected—she wouldn’t stiff her waitress, even now.

The sight of her phone sitting there in the bag froze her in place.

Her phone. This confirmed that was how they kept finding her. Whenever she left it on, somebody came sniffing around. It was how they’d tracked her to the office building, how her attacker had found her at the mall.

Now, how he’d found her at the diner.

She dropped a handful of quarters on the table before ducking into the ladies’ room, careful to keep her head down, her face turned away from the window in case the car came around again. She fought the impulse to run, struggled to remain calm, to act as if nothing out of the ordinary was going on.

Once she was inside with the door locked, she looked around. No, the windows were too narrow. No escape through there.

With a deep breath and a silent prayer, she erased the contacts in her phone—she couldn’t leave Brax vulnerable—before leaving it lying on the counter and ducking out of the room.

It wasn’t easy, cutting her last tie to the rest of the world, and it would be hard to explain how she lost it again. But whatever it took to make Brax believe her, she would do.

She kept her head down, taking the exit closest to the restroom rather than the main door out front. It was dark, almost eleven o’clock, with plenty of cars in the lot to hide behind.

The car pulled up near the door she’d just come out of. An older model, a little banged up. Professional villainy must not pay much, she guessed.

A few panic-filled minutes later, the passenger went inside. She could barely see over the hood of the car she’d hidden behind, crouching in weeds and broken glass. The pockmarked driver stayed behind the wheel, peering out over the lot.

She hardly dared breathe, much less move. Could he see her? Did he know she was there?

After a few minutes, the man came out from the diner and muttered something to the driver before getting back into the car and slamming the door. He was angry. They both were. Their voices carried her way, faint but audible. Plenty of unsavory words were thrown around.

Brax’s car was only four down from the car she hid behind. The only real shot she had of getting away was putting as much distance between those two buffoons and herself as possible. As soon as they left, she’d have to get out of there.

She moved slowly, carefully, one eye always on her pursuers. They were arguing over what to do next, she guessed, too busy to notice any movement up ahead.

Or to notice Brax’s car parked right in front of them. It was the same car she’d used at the mall, so one would think they’d stake it out until she appeared. They must not have considered it. Too busy wondering why they couldn’t pin her down.

The driver pulled away—slowly, cautiously, like he was waiting for her to pop out from the shadows at any second. He wasn’t a complete idiot. But he couldn’t stay there all night, idling in the lot and blocking cars from leaving or entering.

She crept alongside the door and opened it just enough to slide inside, closing it quickly to kill the interior light. Her pursuers were gone. There was nobody to see.

That didn’t mean she was out of danger, and she knew it.

Seatbelt fastened, hands at the perfect ten and two on the wheel—which she was practically crushing with her grip—she eased out of the lot and started driving.

But where could she go?

She certainly couldn’t spend the entire night driving. There was only so much gas in the tank, and she had no money to refill it.

A deep, head-splitting yawn answered any further questions. She’d been up since five with Walker, and it was now half past eleven. Even a gallon of coffee couldn’t combat her deep fatigue.

She eyed the parking lot of a supermarket. Would it be a good place to pull into and go to sleep?

Before she could make a decision, a flash of headlights in the mirror almost blinded her. She turned her head away, blinking hard. Some people were such jerks. There was no reason to follow so—

Her already cramping hands gripped the wheel harder as that familiar tingling sensation prickled at the back of her neck.

A sudden right turn pointed her in the direction of downtown. The car behind her took a right too.

He’d only gone around the block again.

Tears threatened to spill onto her cheeks. She couldn’t let them. Wouldn’t. It would mean she was beaten, but she hadn’t been beaten yet.

The cars and cabs and pedestrians of a downtown Friday night were just what she needed. Not that she expected to blend in, but tailing her would be more of a challenge with so many obstacles to get around. As it was, groups of people crossed in the middle of the street, not bothering to walk to the corner. Cars double-parked to drop off and pick up. It took time just to creep from one light to the next.

Tessa steered around one of those double-parked cars and was glad to see the double-parker pulled out before her pursuers could get past. The pockmarked man leaned on the horn, shouting something that blended in with the noise of the street.

She took advantage of this and made a sharp left at the next corner, barely missing a couple who’d started to cross without seeing her. She winced, waving in apology before flooring the gas pedal, then took another left at the next corner.

Right, left. Doubling back on herself. Always checking in the mirror. She’d thought she’d caught a glimpse of her tail now and then, but never for long. There were too many people in the way, too many cars suddenly pulling out of spaces and blocking the view.

After an hour of playing cat and mouse with Robert’s friends , Tessa was fairly confident she’d lost them for good. Her vision was starting to blur, and real, true exhaustion set in once the adrenaline rush calmed down.

She pulled in behind a dark strip mall. Another alley. She sensed a pattern, but at least nobody would come looking for her behind the row of stores.

And if they did, she mused as she stretched out along the back seat, she was too tired to make another successful getaway.

“W HAT ARE YOU doing up?”

Brax stopped walking halfway down the stairs at the sound of his mother’s voice. She wasn’t the only person in the kitchen. Both Sheila and Clinton Patterson were up and around at four in the morning.

He found them sitting at the table, both reading a newspaper that had to still be hot off the press. Coffee was brewing in a pot.

“Well?” Sheila asked, eyeing him from over the top of a page.

“I couldn’t sleep.” He pointed from one of them to the other. “And you two? Is this the norm?”

“We’re both early birds, you know that.” Clinton set down the section he’d been reading and picked up another.

“But four o’clock?”

They exchanged a look. “Well, we were hoping to be up when the baby wakes. You said he gets up before dawn.”

“I should’ve known.” Brax snickered, taking a seat at the table. “You’re incorrigible.”

But it meant the world to him. Watching his parents fall in love with his nephew. They’d taken the news in stride—neither of them had a great opinion of Robert, so the news of him skipping town and handing guardianship over hadn’t shocked them much.

It only made sense for him to bring Walker to meet them. After all, they were the people who’d taught Brax what it meant to be part of a family.

“What kept you from sleeping?” Sheila leaned in with a motherly expression, otherwise known as scrutiny . “I don’t like those circles under your eyes.”

“Thanks.” He leaned back in his chair with a shrug and remembered being a kid. New to the entire concept of family. Resenting the questions his foster mother asked.

He wasn’t that kid anymore.

Which was what made him sit up straight. “I kept worrying about the woman who takes care of Walker while I’m at work.”

“Tessa, right?” Clinton asked, lowering the paper. “You mentioned her.”

“Right. She’s young, and she strikes me as being...wounded somehow. I wish I could explain it. She’s troubled. Jumpy sometimes. She never offers any information about herself other than having taken care of Walker for a little while back in Eagle Pass. I gave her the weekend off to take care of herself since she’s been with Walker twenty-four seven for two weeks straight. She deserved it.”

“You said she stays with you?” his dad asked.

“Yes.”

“So she’s at the house now? Why not call her?”

“For one thing, it’s not even dawn yet. She’s probably asleep. For another, no, she’s not at the house. I don’t know where she went. She didn’t share her plans.”

Sheila cocked her head to the side. Brax knew that move. It meant he was in trouble.

“When did you give her this gift of free time?”

“Thursday night. I told her I’d taken the weekend off and she should do the same.”

“And you forced her out of the house? Two weeks after forcing her to move in with you?”

“I didn’t force her to do anything, Mom.”

Clinton cleared his throat. “What your mother is trying to say is, you gave that poor girl nowhere to go. What if she didn’t have much money saved up? Not everybody can book a hotel room at the last minute. No wonder you’re worried about her. Your subconscious is nagging you.”

“You said she’s secretive and jumpy,” Sheila added. “What if you’re her only means of safety right now? She couldn’t have been living a safe, steady sort of life if she was able to pick up and move into your spare bedroom at a moment’s notice. You could be the godsend she was waiting for.”

“Oh, no.” He held his head in his hands. Why hadn’t he seen it sooner? “I should’ve thought about that. It’s obvious she’s been hiding something. She looked so fragile and alone when I first met her.”

“Give her a call,” Clinton suggested. “If you’re worried enough about her that it kept you up all night, call her.”

“It’s too early.”

“Call her anyway. You can ease your worries, and she’ll know you were thinking about her. You can’t lose.”

Strange. It was like he’d been waiting for permission. The second he knew his parents thought it would be okay for him to call, he was up from the table and going out to the living room for a little privacy.

Tessa would forgive him for waking her up, wouldn’t she?

“Where are you, bitch?”

Like he’d been slapped, Brax’s head snapped back at the sound of the snarl that greeted him.

“What, you calling to see if we found your phone? Well, we did, you sneaky—”

“Who is this?” Brax barked, cutting the man off before he could insult Tessa again.

There was silence. Then, “Who’s this?”

“I asked first. Who has this phone? Who are you? Where are you?” From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of his parents entering the room. His mom held her hands over her mouth.

More silence. Then a beep to signal the call’s end.

“What was that about?” Clinton asked.

“I have no idea. But some foul-mouthed bully has Tessa’s phone.” He called the number again, but this time it rang endlessly with no answer.

Memories of Thursday night hit him from all sides.

She’d been so shaken up—maybe too shaky for her purse to have been stolen by kids.

Did this have to do with whoever had mugged her at the mall?

He ran up to his room without further explanation and went straight to the laptop he’d left on the nightstand. Tessa was driving his car while he’d borrowed Chance’s Jeep. All of their cars had GPS installed so they could track mileage as a tax deduction.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” The sight of Tessa’s erratic driving patterns from just a few short hours ago made his stomach churn. Why had she been going up and down one street after another in the downtown section? Why had she spent a solid hour doubling back over herself?

And why was the car now parked at some strip mall?

Who was she meeting?

Or, worse, who’d stolen the car? What had happened to her?

One thing was clear: Tessa was in trouble.

He pulled on his clothes and headed downstairs again, where his parents waited. “Can you keep watch over Walker for a little while? I have to find her. There’s trouble.”

“Of course. Help her,” Sheila urged.

He intended to do just that.