afraid the noise of it closing would expose him. He stayed there pressed against the side with Remington and Hala just feet away from him on the other side.
It was a freaking disaster.
Sweat slid down Wally’s temples. He racked his brains to figure out somehow to get Remington away from the car.
Suddenly, Remington stopped and withdrew something from his pocket. He turned his back on Hala and lifted his cell phone to his ear. He started to talk, walking back into the house and slamming the door behind him.
Wally exhaled a huge sigh of relief as Hala turned and walked back down the driveway. After a second, Mike gently pushed the car door closed after reaching in to lock it, then hopped up and ran to catch her. He slung an arm around Hala’s shoulders like they were a couple out for a stroll. Once out of sight of the house, they dashed back to Wally’s car and climbed in.
“By all that is holy, what just happened?” Wally shouted at them. His heart was beating way too fast.
“Hala saved my butt—that’s what happened.” Mike leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes. “Wow. That was way too close for me. Seriously, I thought I was dead.”
“What did you say to Remington?” Wally asked Hala.
“When I realized Mike was compromised, I knew I had to do something or he’d be spotted. So, I approached Remington, hoping to stall him. I asked him if he’d received the bingo flyer. He completely freaked out and said he wasn’t interested in stupid bingo. I continued to press him, mentioning how hard the fire department worked to raise money for underprivileged children, blah, blah, blah. He dismissed me again, the moron. He’s a thoroughly unpleasant person.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Wally said.
“Well, her brilliant diversion gave me enough time to slip out of the car,” Mike said. “Then, thankfully, someone called him just as he was going to get into the car.”
“It was a repairman for the garage door,” Hala confirmed. “Someone’s coming tomorrow to check it out.”
“Ha!” Mike said grinning. “They’ll find a dead battery in the keypad, and Remington will look like an idiot when the guy is able to open the garage door after changing the battery. Duh. Wonder how much it will cost him?”
“Do I look like I care?” Wally said. “What took you so freaking long to get into the car, dude? You almost gave me a heart attack.”
“I’m not sure. I think the frequency detector on the relay was not calibrated correctly. I didn’t have any test equipment and just winged it when I set it up. I was having to make small adjustments manually until I finally hit the right frequency. Anyway, it was my first time using it, and we didn’t have time for a trial run. And yet it worked. MacGyver would have been proud of me. So, cut me a break.”
Wally blew out a breath. “Fine. I’m cutting you a break…this time. Dang, I really thought you weren’t going to make it.”
“You and me both, bud,” Mike agreed. He looked around. “Where’s Frankie?”
“She’s still out there chatting up the neighbor.” Hala pointed out the windshield. “Wow. She’s really good.”
“You told her to keep the neighbor occupied for as long as possible,” Wally said. “So, that’s what she’ll do. She’ll talk your ear off, if you let her. Call her back while I slip out of the security system. Then let’s get the heck out of here. We can test to see if the devices are working from the farmhouse.”
“And that’s the best idea I’ve heard all day,” Mike said.
Chapter Thirty-One
ANGEL SINCLAIR
“Success!” I said, raising a fist.
I spoke to the group from my usual spot in front of the gas fireplace. The rest of the team sprawled on the floor, couch, and chairs, chatting and celebrating. I wished I felt as excited as they did. Instead, I felt more anxious than ever. I was stuck in a nerve-racking, horrifically scary situation that involved my mother’s life and possibly those of my team. I kept second-guessing myself every moment, and wondered if all leaders felt that way, or if it was just me. But I had to keep my game face on, and that meant celebrating each step forward.
“Okay, guys. Today we got our first real piece of intelligence from the operation. Great work. Tonight, at twenty-three thirty, or eleven thirty, Glen Sampson is going to call someone, presumably Isaac Remington, to provide an update on