in cold blood, but you had to kill them because they were trying to kill me.”
Cruz kept up a brisk walk. “You know that, and I know that, but the police don’t. All they know is that we fled the scene and left bodies behind, which looks bad.”
“So we’re fugitives?”
“For now. But they don’t know who I am or have a clear image of who I am. They will figure out who you are. They’re either going to think you were kidnapped, or that you were an accomplice, but we’re going to clear your name, Shanice. I promise you that.” The firm set of his jaw convinced her of his resolve.
Shanice folded the paper and tucked it under her arm. Outside of a speeding ticket, she’d never broken the law. Could this situation get any worse?
“I not only have to hide from the people trying to kill me, now I have to hide from the police, too.”
“Another reason we need to get out of here, and fast.”
They stopped at an intersection to let traffic go by. Cruz took that opportunity to dial a number on his personal phone. She listened to him make arrangements with someone—the friends he’d said owed him a favor. They would help her mother go into hiding and protect her until she and Cruz figured out what was going on with Logan Investors.
He spoke in succinct sentences, using code words like “ship the package.” If she didn’t know him, she wouldn’t have any idea he was talking about taking her mother to safety.
They crossed the street, and after walking a few more blocks caught a taxi to a small airport thirty minutes outside of Miami. The pilot was an older Afro-Cuban, with pecan-brown skin and curious eyes when he looked at Shanice.
After the introduction, Cruz and the man stepped aside to talk and Shanice sat in the quiet terminal, watching the few passengers seated reading or talking on their phones. The airport was much quieter than Miami International Airport. Several of the passengers wore business suits. Two women looked like her and Cruz—dressed casually, flipping through magazines.
Finally, Cruz called her over, and they went onto the airfield. Shanice’s steps slowed when she saw the small plane. It looked shiny and new, painted dark red along the tail and upper half and silver below.
She stopped. “That’s what we’re taking to Houston? You said we were going in a jet.” She’d never flown in anything so small.
Cruz turned to look at her. “A personal jet. There’s plenty of room and it’s perfectly safe. Come on.” He extended his hand.
Against her better judgment, Shanice placed her hand in his, and the comfort of his warm clasp lessened her anxiety.
They climbed into the surprisingly roomy interior, able to accommodate seven people comfortably in tan leather seats. Everything looked state-of-the-art, from the impressive controls on the instrument panel to the USB ports and power plugs throughout the cabin. Cruz sat next to her, smiling reassuringly and looking quite comfortable, with plenty of headroom to accommodate his height.
The pilot conducted the pre-flight check and Shanice held her breath as they taxied down the runway and lifted into the air.
Gripping the armrest to her left as she gazed out the window, her breathing slowly flattened to a normal rate, but the knots in her stomach tightened at the thought of going back to the origin of the crime. This was either a good idea or a bad idea.
She desperately hoped it was a good idea.
17
“This is home.”
Cruz had checked them into a nondescript motel, someplace where they wouldn’t stick out and there wasn’t nosy staff providing customer service they didn’t need. Almost four hours and one bag of vomit later, Shanice felt a bit tired but was in good spirits.
When they had landed, Cruz “borrowed” a gray sedan and switched the plates with a red car a mile away. Then he drove to this location on the outskirts of Houston.
He had parked far away from the front door while she hid in the back seat, out of sight. He returned with the room key and drove around to the back side where their room was located on the second floor. There wasn’t much to see, but it was clean and furnished with a queen bed, a desk and chair, and a sofa beside them.
He’d tried to get a room with two beds, but the clerk told him they wouldn’t have one available for two nights. Wonderful. She looked forward to two more nights