back through the leaves toward the entrance. How late would Nikki Bexholt be working? Everyone else had left. Was there a back way Dillon hadn’t known about? No, she wasn’t going to second-guess herself. Surely Bexholt was getting hungry. Lucy was. Some sweet fried sausage with peppers and onions, oh goodness, that sounds heavenly. No white wine with that lovely sausage. Bummer. Lucy was momentarily distracted by that visual, but jerked back when she finally saw a single car come toward the kiosk. A security guard stepped out, leaned down to speak to the driver. It was Nikki Bexholt, her face clear in the guardhouse lights.
There you are, Nikki. Can’t wait to see where you take me. We can all dance. Lucy slipped back into her Toyota and started the engine, let it purr quietly, and waited. She knew where Nikki Bexholt lived, not quite a mile from the Bexholt campus. Would she go home?
Ten minutes later, with Lucy following discreetly, Nikki Bexholt left-turned her silver Audi onto Morning Glory Drive in a seriously ritzy neighborhood with large houses and manicured yards. Bexholt drove slowly, then steered into the driveway of a painfully modern two-story brick-and-glass house in a cul-de-sac. There were no trees in Bexholt’s front yard, only a half dozen shrubs, with gravel surrounding them, cold and stark, to Lucy’s eye. She pictured a small child stumbling over the gravel, scraping a knee. There’ll be nothing like that for you, Junior, I promise. Bexholt didn’t open the garage door. She got out of her Audi, walked quickly down a flagstone path sided by more gravel to a lighted front door. When she was in, the lights went on downstairs. After ten or so minutes, the downstairs lights went off, and on went the lights upstairs. Most likely her bedroom. Lucy had hoped Bexholt wouldn’t come home, that she’d meet someone in some dark, out-of-the-way restaurant where Nikki wouldn’t want to be seen. It looked like she was in for the night, but if so, why hadn’t she garaged her car? Maybe she still planned to go out. Lucy decided to give it an hour, then call Ollie at the scheduled time and tell him all was clear and she was headed home. He’d pick up Bexholt in the morning.
Lucy was drumming her fingers on the steering wheel, waiting, watching, waiting some more, when the front porch light went on, the front door opened, and out came Nikki Bexholt. She was wearing tight jeans now, a white short-sleeved top, a light red jacket over her arm. She walked quickly to her Audi. Lucy heard the powerful engine kick in, watched her back out of her driveway.
Lucy’s fingers danced the rumba on the steering wheel. The excitement of the chase. She kept her lights off, pulled out, and followed Nikki Bexholt through Coverton to 495. Where was she going?
She punched in Ollie’s cell phone number.
“Lucy? What’s happening?”
“Bexholt’s on the move, Ollie. I’m hanging back a good ways, have to since there’s very little traffic. She’s headed south on 495 to Virginia. You can track me, right? Both my watch and phone are registering my location?”
“Yes. Both GPSes are loud and clear. I’ll call Savich, tell him you’re following Bexholt. Since we have no idea where she’s going or what her purpose is, stay well back. Lucy, don’t be a hot dog, all right?”
Lucy thought of the baby growing in her belly. “Honestly, I doubt I’ll ever be a hot dog again, not good for Junior’s nerves.”
“I was thinking about Coop’s nerves, too. Don’t want him to have a seizure. Keep back, Lucy, all you’re doing is surveillance, okay?”
Yeah, yeah. She followed Bexholt across the Potomac into Virginia, turned onto 193, and headed northwest. Still not much traffic, so she had to continue hanging back. Bexholt drove past the exit for Great Falls, then turned onto 7. Was she headed to Potomac Falls? As far away as Leesburg?
Fifteen miles before Leesburg, Bexholt took the exit marked MORGANTOWN. There were few cars this time of night in the middle of nowhere. Houses were set far apart, and the towns she drove through were small and dark. Thank heaven there was a full moon. Lucy could turn off her car’s lights and still make out Bexholt’s Audi in the distance. She’d never been this way before and she imagined the countryside was beautiful in the sunlight, the trees thick and lush, nearly canopying over the two-lane road.