Dashing Through the Snow (14 page)

Wilkes glanced over his shoulder to make sure the Suburban wasn't leaking oil. “How do you know that?”

“He told me,” Stan the Man explained. “For the most part, he's proud to be part of the support staff for the FBI, but you need to see that he's properly fed and given what he needs.”

“Do you have dreams?” Ashley asked Dash, curiosity getting the better of her. They were well into Oregon now and she was relaxed and feeling particularly close to Dash. No matter how much he wanted to concentrate on the upcoming interview, he couldn't ignore the attraction between them. Maybe it was the holiday season or the fact that they'd been in close proximity to each other for the last two days. No matter what brought this about, she wasn't complaining. The pressure of work and school had vanished and she was more relaxed than she had been in months. Her head and her heart felt wide open.

While it was true they'd just met, they'd spent more time together in the last day and a half than she had with Jackson, a man she'd been dating on again/off again for several months—well, until recently.

“Everyone dreams,” Dash said, glancing her way and smiling. “Personally, I don't remember mine.”

“Not nighttime dreams,” she chided, and resisted rolling her eyes. He was being deliberately obtuse, which she discovered was something he enjoyed. “Dreams, you know, about your future.”

“Oh, those kind of dreams. Yeah, I suppose,” he said without elaborating. “What about you?”

She sighed and leaned her head against the back of the seat. Little Blade had gotten restless after their lunch stop and she'd brought him into the front seat with her. He was sprawled across her lap and she absently petted him. The puppy was content now and she was growing sleepy.

“My immediate dreams are to finish my graduate degree and find work. I'd like to be close to Mom. It's been hard on her since my dad died.”

“My mom, too, although she's had a long time to adjust to widowhood.”

“Is your sister close?”

“A hundred miles away, but they get together often.”

Ashley concentrated on her hands. “I didn't handle my dad's death well. Mom, either. I think if we'd had time to prepare, I mean, if he'd been sick for a long time, we might have been able to accept it.” She paused and bit into her lower lip. “But one morning he kissed both mom and me goodbye, went to work, and by noon he was dead.”

“Heart attack?”

She shook her head. “He worked on the docks. There was an accident and Dad was in the wrong place at the wrong time. It's been three years and it does get easier with time, but it's always there. It's worse for Mom than me. Dad was her soulmate. They were together constantly. Dad had such big plans for their retirement; he wanted to travel to every state in the union and had money set aside to buy a motor home. It was his dream.”

“Life is like that, Ash,” he said, his voice gentle, caring. “I saw more death than I ever cared to while in Afghanistan. I lost friends who had dreams of their own: wives, babies they had yet to hold.”

“Is that why you left the military?”

“Part of the reason. When you ask if I have dreams, I can say that I do. I want to do my part to put an end to evil. I want to live the life my friends didn't get the chance to live and marry a woman I can love and trust, who will feel the same about me.”

She knew he was thinking about the one who'd hurt him while he was away serving his country and the one who'd broken his heart that led to his enlistment. He'd never mentioned either name, and that was fine. She wanted Dash to concentrate on the future rather than on the past.

“And I want to go fly-fishing,” Dash added.

“Fly-fishing?”

“Yeah, that was something my dad and I used to do. I haven't been able to in a long time…since shortly before Dad died when I was a teen. I've been feeling the urge to get out there and let go of my worries while I fished, just the way my dad did.”

“There's great fly-fishing in the Pacific Northwest,” she said, assuming he'd get the job. She wanted it for him and for herself, although there was no guarantee she'd find work close to Seattle.

“I'll keep that in mind,” he said.

“My dad loved to fly-fish, too. There was nothing he enjoyed more than standing in the middle of some fast-moving stream in those ridiculous-looking rubber pants with suspenders and swinging his line. Watching him was amazing. I can still remember seeing that line swirl through the air with the same grace as a ballerina.”

A slow smile crept over Dash's face. “That sounds pretty close to heaven to me.”

Ashley's mind was filled with childhood memories of her father fishing and his love of the sport.

Dash frowned as he glanced in his rearview mirror. “I don't believe it,” he said with a groan.

“Believe what?”

“I'm being pulled over again.”

“The state patrol?” Ashley had a hard time believing it herself. Twice in one day had to be some kind of record.

“Not the state patrol. But it looks likes law enforcement to me.”

Ashley glanced over her shoulder and caught sight of a large black Suburban tailing them, red lights flashing. A police car was behind him, and another car as well. It looked like an entire parade of law enforcement vehicles.

Dash slowed and then eased to a stop on the right-hand side of the freeway. The traffic on I-5 whizzed past as he reached over her for the paperwork for the rental car.

Ashley couldn't imagine what they could have possibly done to attract all this attention. Sure, someone had switched their license plates, but this had to be something else. Now what?

“What in the name of…” Dash's face hardened as he checked his rearview mirror. “Ashley, listen to me.” His voice was low and hard. “Do whatever they say. Understand?”

“Yes, but…”

Before she could finish, the passenger door was jerked open and a man stood on the other side with a gun pointed directly at her. She gasped and automatically raised her hands.

“Get out of the vehicle with your hands clasped behind your head.” The man with the gun gestured for her to move.

She swallowed a sense of panic. “I…what about the dog?” Little Blade was asleep in her lap.

The plainclothes officer hesitated. “Keep your hands where I can see them.”

Ashley did as instructed.

“Buckley, get the puppy.”

Another man appeared and grabbed hold of Little Blade.

“There's a carrier in the backseat,” Ashley told him. “It would be best if you'd put him in that for now.”

Ashley could hear Dash arguing with another law enforcement official. He was already outside the vehicle and standing with his hands behind his head as he answered their questions. From his raised voice, it sounded as if he was about to lose his cool.

Once Ashley was free of the dog, she climbed out of the car with her hands tucked behind her head. “I can explain everything,” she said, doing her best to remain calm despite the fact that her heart was pounding at an alarming rate. Glancing around, she was shocked to see about a dozen different men and women from a variety of official agencies, if their uniforms were anything to go by.

“Homeland Security?” she heard Dash shout. “You people must be crazy.”

“On your knees,” the man with the gun directed her.

Ashley looked down at the ground, which was soggy and slushy. “I'll get my jeans wet,” she protested. “Couldn't you do whatever it is you have to do with me standing?”

“Handcuff her,” the man with the gun ordered to the one he'd referred to as Buckley.

“Hey, that hurts! Wait a minute,” she said, hardly able to believe what was happening. “You're going to handcuff me? Whatever for?” This was beyond the point of being ridiculous.

Buckley stepped forward and grabbed hold of her wrist and slapped on the handcuffs.

“I know my rights. I learned the Pledge of Allegiance,” she said. “What about liberty and justice for all? What about my rights as an American?” The men weren't answering.

“Dash?” she cried out desperately, as they each held an arm and marched her toward the Suburban. “What's happening?”

“I don't know,” he shouted back, and he seemed to be as bewildered as she was.

“Where are you taking me?” she demanded, struggling now. “I want an attorney. You're supposed to let me make a phone call.”

She could hear Dash arguing with the police, and when she looked over her shoulder, she saw it took two men to restrain him.

“You're making a huge mistake,” he insisted, but no one seemed to be listening.

“Bring him in, too,” the man in charge shouted out.

“What about Little Blade?” she asked. They couldn't abandon the puppy. The poor dog would need counseling after being left behind once already. “Who's going to take care of the puppy?”

Buckley got her situated in the backseat of the Suburban, which wasn't an easy task with her hands locked behind her back. As soon as she was secured, he returned to the rental car.

The man who'd pointed the gun at her spoke: “I bet you thought you'd outsmarted us again.”

Ashley had the feeling no amount of arguing was going to convince this hard-nosed enforcement officer that she was innocent of whatever he thought she had done. With that in mind, she kept her mouth shut. She wasn't stupid. She watched
NCIS
and a bunch of those cop shows. The more information she offered, the more she was likely to dig herself into a deep, dark hole.

“Not going to talk?”

She pinched her lips together just so he'd know she had no intention of explaining herself. “I want an attorney.”

“You're under the jurisdiction of the FBI and Homeland Security, and you don't get to lawyer up until we say you do.”

Ashley's mouth sagged open in shock. Her bottom lip started to tremble, but she wasn't about to give in to tears and emotion. This would all be straightened out soon enough. And when it was, she was determined to sue his sorry butt.

“What is your name?” she asked, ever so sweetly, because she intended to memorize it for when the time came to file a lawsuit against the federal government.

“Officer Jordan Wilkes at your service.”

“You must be a direct descendant of John Wilkes Booth,” she said without humor.

His smile was just short of maniacal. “As a matter of fact, there is a family link to the assassin who killed Abraham Lincoln.”

“You say that with such pride, too,” she scoffed, forgetting her earlier decision to remain silent.

Looking out the window, she noticed that Dash wasn't taking kindly to being restrained. He stepped back and shook his head, all the while arguing. Ashley could see he wasn't able to reason with them any better than she had. She didn't know what this was about, but she had a strong feeling she would soon find out.

When the man referred to as Buckley returned, he joined Agent Wilkes in the front seat. With a motorcycle escort they eased back onto the freeway. As she passed Dash, he captured her gaze and offered her a small smile of reassurance. In those brief seconds he seemed to be telling her that no matter what happened, he'd get this resolved.

Once back on the freeway, an escort led the way to Eugene, Oregon. They traveled with lights flashing, as if this was a motorcade with some high-ranking dignitary. Ashley wasn't fooled—she could tell she wasn't going to be treated like royalty. Still, she remained completely oblivious as to what she'd done or was suspected of having done to warrant all this attention.

They arrived at what she could only assume was a police station. Ashley was helped out of the car and led down a long, narrow hallway to an interrogation room. Once inside, her hands were freed and she was left alone.

Left alone for hours…or what seemed like hours.

This happened in the procedural shows she routinely watched, so it wasn't completely unexpected. Still, it played with her mind, which she supposed was the purpose. She sat tense and apprehensive, wondering about Dash and Little Blade. In an effort to calm her nerves, she closed her eyes and remembered the look that had come over Dash's face just before he leaned in and kissed her the last time. The memory produced a lazy, happy smile.