The Escape (US Marshals #1) - Lisa Harris Page 0,81
It’s just that there’s more involved than simply taking a step forward. You have to find that right person. The one who understands who you are. I’d rather be alone than settle for someone that wasn’t right for me.”
He understood the need for resolution. For closure. Always had wondered what would have happened if he’d asked Felicia to marry him before the accident. Maybe Madison was right. Maybe Felicia would never have been able to believe he truly wanted to marry her.
It was something he’d never know.
He let his mind wander back to Madison. She understood what motivated him. But he couldn’t shake the idea that the whole mixing work with pleasure and falling for a coworker thing would end poorly. Not to mention his fear of getting another broken heart.
“So you don’t ever think about getting married . . . starting a family?” she asked.
“Sometimes.” He grabbed for his coffee, suddenly feeling caught by the shift in the conversation. The back of his hand brushed against hers. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine, I . . .”
His thoughts paused as she looked up at him. Her light brown eyes were barely visible in the darkness of the car, but he could hear her breathing, feel his own heart beating . . . He set down his coffee, caught up in the sudden intensity of the moment.
His body leaned forward automatically as his gaze shifted from her eyes to her lips. They were slightly parted as if she wanted the same thing he did.
She blinked, then turned at the sound of a vehicle.
“Jonas, wait a minute . . . someone just pulled up.”
In an instant, the moment was lost.
A car pulled into Yuri’s driveway. “It’s a pizza delivery.”
Jonas radioed the marshal who was helping coordinate the stakeout. “Patterson, I need you to check out the following license plate.” He read off the numbers. “See if the car’s stolen.”
“Give me a minute. I’m on it.”
Jonas drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. He wasn’t sure they had a minute. If this really was a pizza delivery guy, marching up to the house now would blow their cover. But if they didn’t check it out, and this guy was here to pick up Barrick’s passport, they could end up missing him.
He was at the front door now. Another fifteen seconds and they’d miss their chance.
“Patterson, I need something now.” Jonas glanced questioningly at Madison.
She matched his gaze. “I agree.”
He pulled the keys out of the ignition and spoke into his radio. “Have the other team follow the delivery car. We’re going in.”
They ran across the street, Madison running around back while he stopped at the front and banged on the door.
The sound of rustling came from inside as Jonas continued hitting the door.
“Yuri’s car is gone.” Madison radioed. “I’m coming around front.”
A man opened the door, but Jonas had seen Yuri’s mug shot and this definitely wasn’t him.
“Where’s Yuri?” Jonas asked.
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean?”
Madison hustled over from the side yard. “He’s the pizza delivery man. They switched places.”
“How do you know that?” the man asked.
“It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
“And Yuri took the passport,” Jonas said.
The man shrugged, holding up his hands. “All I know is that Yuri asked me to do him a favor. He had a client who was worried about being followed and Yuri decided to placate him.”
“Where is he now?” Jonas asked.
“I don’t know. He said the less I knew, the better.”
Jonas watched as Madison began questioning the decoy. He touched his earpiece. “Patterson, we need that delivery vehicle.”
His radio crackled. “I know, but they just called in. They lost it.”
Jonas turned around, his agitation growing. “You can’t be serious.”
“I wish I wasn’t. But I do have some news. I’ve been going through flight lists like you said, and something just popped up.”
“It better be some good news.”
“It is. Bianca Carleton just booked a flight for Houston for eight o’clock tomorrow morning.”
Thirty
Early the next morning, Madison sat in a row of chairs against the back wall of the gate in Terminal A, eating a sausage biscuit and studying each passenger as they entered the area. Bianca had taken a chair by the window overlooking the runway and was reading a novel. It was tempting to walk up to her right now, drag her into an interrogation room, and demand answers, but if they did that, the chances of her leading them to Barrick would more than likely evaporate.
Jonas tapped on the armrest between them while scanning the passengers. She