Dashing Through the Snow (6 page)

“See,” she said, content now, relaxing against the seat, “I can be reasonable and accommodating and pleasant.”

He nodded and his eyes grew slightly darker. “Yes, you can.”

“Whoa,” she said, and held up her hand. “Was that a compliment?”

For a minute it looked as if Dash was going to deny it. “It might have been.”

She planted her hand over her heart. “Careful, you could make a girl faint with that kind of flattery.”

His grin grew.

“How soon before we need to get gas?” she asked, when her stomach growled.

“We're down to a quarter tank,” he said, and sounded surprised.

That pleased her. “Good.”

“No worries, Little Blade,” she whispered to the puppy. “Lunch is on the way.”

Agent Buckley had the morning-shift reservation clerks from the rental car agencies assembled before Agent Jordan Wilkes entered the private room.

“We appreciate you returning to the airport. I know this is an inconvenience. As you might have guessed, this is a matter of national security. We're hoping you can identify either this man or this woman. There is a possibility they rented a vehicle at the airport earlier today.”

He stepped over to the computer screen and pulled up the photo of Ashley Davison, although he didn't hold out much hope that anyone would be able to identify her from the blurry photograph. Looking around the room, all he got were blank stares.

“I might have seen a woman who sort of resembles the photograph,” one of the men said. “I helped someone who wore the same colored coat, but the woman in the photograph looks taller and thinner.”

“Was she alone?” Agent Wilkes asked.

“She was, and then was later joined by someone else.”

“Man or woman?” He snapped the question.

“Man.”

Wilkes looked toward Agent Buckley and the hair on the back of his neck rose. This often happened when he felt he was getting close to solving a case. He'd been after Davison for two years; she'd managed to elude him every time. He was determined not to let her escape again. The agency had been unable to get a good likeness. She was a master of disguise and knew how to avoid security cameras.

“Was this the man?” Agent Wilkes clicked a second photograph onto the screen and the much clearer image showed.

“Yes,” the car rental clerk answered enthusiastically. “That's him.”

“Do you have his name?”

“It's on the rental agreement.”

“Your name is?”

“John. John Palmer.”

“Can you get the necessary information for us?”

“Yes.” He led the way out of the room and to the car rental desk in the bottom level of the airport. The reservation clerk currently on duty moved aside while John Palmer stepped up to the computer and clicked his fingers over the keyboard. Smiling, he looked up. “His name is Dash. Dashiell Sutherland.”

“You mentioned earlier that the two didn't appear to be together and then they did.”

“Yes, seeing that they were headed in the same direction, they decided to share the car. It was the last one available.”

Wilkes leaned toward his partner and whispered, “They might have done this for show, to throw us off. I'd bet my Christmas bonus the two of them are working together.”

“We don't get Christmas bonuses,” Buckley reminded him.

“If we did, I'd wager mine.”

Wilkes returned his attention to the agent. “Did he by chance happen to list his phone number?”

“Yes, it's required.” John reached for a scrap piece of paper and wrote down the cell number before handing it to Wilkes.

“Thank you. You've been a great help. Leave your contact information with Agent Buckley and we'll be in touch if we need any further information.”

“Glad to help. Will there be anything on the national news about this if you do happen to catch these terrorists?”

“No one used the term
terrorists,
” Agent Wilkes informed him in a stern voice. He didn't want this information leaked when he was only hours away from capturing one of the FBI's Ten Most Wanted.

As soon as they were in a secure area, Wilkes tried the cellphone, which went directly to voicemail.

“Davison might be using Dashiell Sutherland as a pawn. He could be completely unaware of who she is and the danger he's in,” Agent Buckley suggested.

“You could be right. I've studied this woman, and this is the way she works. It all seems innocent, innocuous. She comes off as a charming, funny, happy-go-lucky kind of gal. America's sweetheart, but beneath the façade is the heart of a killer.”

“We're on her tail now.”

“She often will do something to let me know she's outsmarted me.”

“You mean like using her real name to buy a ticket?” Agent Buckley asked.

“Exactly. She does that to throw me off, thinking I would never head to Seattle. Coming blatantly to the airport was a ploy. She believes that will send me on a wild-goose chase south instead of north.”

Agent Buckley frowned. “You're losing me. She tried to book a ticket to Seattle, wanting us to think she was headed north, when she's actually heading south, but then goes north?”

“Yes, but I'm not fooled. Mark my words, she's heading to Seattle. The woman is diabolical.”

Agent Buckley blinked twice. “That's pretty convoluted thinking, isn't it?”

“That's the way her mind works, which has made it nearly impossible to apprehend her.”

As Wilkes spoke he led the way to the rental car lot. He had the location of the vehicle Sutherland had rented, and the make and model of the car, including the license plate number. The garage was mostly empty.

“Do you see anything out of the ordinary?” Wilkes asked the junior agent.

Agent Buckley glanced around and then walked about ten feet away before squatting down.

“What is it?” Wilkes demanded, his heart racing.

Withdrawing a pair of rubber gloves from his pocket, Agent Buckley retrieved a smashed cellphone. “I believe I know why Dashiell Sutherland's cell went straight to voicemail,” he said, holding up the damaged phone. “It looks like a car ran over it.” The junior agent looked pleased with himself. “We could assume Davison has taken a hostage. At this point, I wonder if he even knows it.”

Dash and Ashley stopped at the next exit, and instead of gassing up at the station nearest the exit Dash drove two or three miles farther to one with a mini-mart attached. Ashley purchased sandwiches, chips, and drinks for them both while Dash filled the tank.

“I hope you like turkey,” she said, when she handed him the cellophane-wrapped sandwich. The only other choice was tuna and she couldn't tolerate even the smell of tuna. Instead, she'd purchased them both turkey with tomato and lettuce instead. And she'd had to dig for those. “I hope you're not a fan of tuna.”

Dash cringed. “I never liked canned fish.”

“Me, neither.”

They sat in the car and Dash peeled off the sandwich wrapping and peeked under the bread. “Turkey with tomato and lettuce,” he said, and sounded pleased.

“It's one of my favorites,” she commented, peeling away her own wrapping.

“Mine, too.” He paused and glanced at her. “I'll admit Little Blade hasn't been a hassle.”

Ashley relaxed against the back of the seat and pulled out a small bit of her turkey from the sandwich and fed it to the puppy.

“Aren't you going to say ‘I told you so'?” he asked skeptically.

“No. First off, it's early in the trip and I don't want to jinx anything, and second…”

“Second,” he pressed.

“I think a lot more of you for admitting you were wrong. You didn't need to and you did. That tells me you're not a man with a high sense of self-importance.” She'd met more than one of those types and had come to recognize the trait quickly enough.

“So you're into me?”

Although the question was meant as a tease, she sensed he was curious about her feelings for him. There was definitely more than a hint of sexual attraction between them. She felt it and was certain Dash did, too. Every now and then she'd chance a look at him while he was driving and feel a zing in the pit of her stomach. He'd come back for her at the rest stop, which had earned him enough points to place him in the her-kind-of-hero category.

Without explanation, Dash got out of the car and walked inside the mini-mart.

Taken aback by his abrupt departure, Ashley petted Little Blade and continued to feed him part of her sandwich. Dash was gone less than five minutes, and when he returned he had a large bag in his hand.

“What's that?” she asked, when he set it inside the car on the backseat.

“Puppy food. You don't want to get Little Blade hooked on people food. It's not good for him.”

“You bought him dog food?” She hadn't thought to look for it while inside. Dash was right, Little Blade would need the proper nourishment. “That was sweet of you.” Thoughtful, too. She was grateful they'd agreed to share the car and the ride. It would have been a long, lonely drive if she'd been alone.

He frowned as if he found her praise disconcerting. “Don't go all mushy on me.”

“I'm not,” she insisted, but she had and it was useless to deny it. “Come on, say it: You like Little Blade.”

Dash shrugged, but reached over and rubbed the puppy's head. “I'll admit he's a cuddly little thing. I can see why you wanted to adopt him.”

This was yet another opportunity to tell him she was right. If he'd done as she'd suggested and gone to see the puppy they could have avoided the craziness that followed.

Dash's gaze narrowed. “Stop,” he insisted brusquely.

“Stop what?”

“Looking at me like I'm some white knight—I'm not.”

“I'd disagree, but it would lead to another senseless argument.”

“Yes, it would. I'm no hero, so don't go thinking I'm the kind of guy who'd rush into a burning building to rescue you and Little Blade.”

She suspected he would, but again she wasn't going to argue. Instead, she changed the subject completely. “I better take Little Blade out so he can do his business before we leave.”

“Good idea.”

She climbed out of the car and took Little Blade over to a grassy area and set him down. The puppy went about sniffing every single inch of grass while Ashley whispered encouragement.

“You can do it. Don't you smell where other dogs have been? See how this grass needs watering? That's your job and you need to take it seriously.”

Dash got out of the car. “What's taking so long?”

Ashley turned to answer. “He's sniffing the grass.”

“Tell him to hurry.”

“You tell him,” she shouted back, hands on her hips. Of all the ridiculous suggestions! How was an eight-week-old puppy supposed to understand anything yet? Every good thought she'd entertained about Dash flew out the proverbial window. The man had no patience. Surely he realized these things took time.

Dash didn't roll his eyes. Instead, he threw back his head and glared up at the sky.

“Do something” was his next useless suggestion.

“What would you like me to do? Pull down my pants and show him what I want him to do?” she yelled back. “Little Blade is a boy. You show him, and be sure to lift your leg.”

Dash muttered under his breath and stalked across the parking lot to where she stood. He looked down the grassy incline and then back at her. “Where is he?” he demanded.

“What do you mean?” Ashley whirled around, and sure enough, Little Blade was missing. “He was here just a minute ago.” Her voice rose an entire octave in her panic.

“He couldn't have gone far,” Dash insisted.

A chain-link fence separated the mini-mart from a recently plowed field. Checking out the field, Ashley saw movement as Little Blade scrambled over one mound and disappeared behind another. “There,” she cried, pointing in the direction of where she'd caught sight of him.

“This is just perfect,” Dash said, shaking his head.

“How'd he get over there?” she wondered aloud.

“He didn't get over the fence,” Dash commented wryly. “He went under it.”

Which, of course, was what had happened.

“Don't worry, I'll get him,” she promised. “Little Blade is my responsibility.”

Dash folded his arms over his chest. “This I've got to see.”

Having something to prove now, Ashley walked across the grass to the chain-link fence and placed the toe of her shoe in the diamond-shaped spaces created by the wire. Next she stretched her arms up as far as they would go and grabbed hold. This wasn't as easy as it looked, but she wasn't about to admit it. She actually was able to make a move, but then lost her footing and was left dangling while she desperately clung to the fence. Her feet started to swing, but she refused to let go, although it was killing her to hang on. Pain shot up her fingers.

“Let go,” Dash said, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“But Little Blade—”

“I'll get him,” Dash said calmly.

Ashley released her death grip and allowed Dash to bring her down. He set her on the grass and she turned to thank him. The words caught in her throat as their gazes met and held for the longest moment. Her breathing went shallow and she suspected his did, too. She wanted to say something and found she couldn't. Her throat had closed up and all she seemed capable of doing was staring into his eyes.

He seemed to be experiencing the same things, because he didn't move, either. The attraction sizzled between them. This was happening way too fast. She hadn't felt this strongly about anyone so quickly in, well…forever. For a moment it looked as if he intended to kiss her. The truth was she would have let him.

Reluctantly, he loosened his grip. Stepping back, ready to deny what had passed between them if necessary, she brushed the grit from her hands.

Frowning, he shook his head ever so slightly and headed for the parking lot.

Ashley was about to protest when he turned and took a running start toward the fence. He leaped onto the wire and bounded up. In a little more than two moves he was over the fence, landing on the other side in a squatting position.

Within a matter of minutes he'd collected Little Blade. He handed the puppy to her through the space where the dog had gone under the fence and then climbed back over as effortlessly as if he were climbing a ladder.

“That was a bad dog,” she whispered in the puppy's ear. “You can't go running off like that, understand?”

“Can we get back on the road now?” Dash asked impatiently, looking pointedly at his watch. “At this rate we aren't going to be able to drive straight through. It's already after three and we haven't gone more than two hundred and fifty miles.”

“We can do it.” She hoped she sounded optimistic, but she had to admit he was probably right. With the puppy and other necessary stops it would take under twenty-four hours to make the drive. While that still gave him time to make the interview, it was going to be close. She and Little Blade were the ones slowing him down, and Ashley felt bad about that.

They climbed back into the car and she saw that Dash had made a soft bed for Little Blade with a sweater in the backseat. After his run for freedom, the puppy curled up on the sweater and promptly fell asleep.

Ashley waited until they were back on the road before she spoke. “Thank you, again.”

“No problem.”

“That isn't what you said earlier,” she reminded him sheepishly.

“I'd hoped to make better time.”

“I know, and it's my fault.”

Dash glanced over his shoulder at the sleeping puppy. “You had an accomplice.”

“But he's cuddly and cute.”

“Both of you are.”

His whispered voice was so low that Ashley was sure she was mistaken. “Did you say something?”

“Nothing important,” he muttered, seemingly eager to drop the subject.

Ashley decided not to force him to admit what he'd said, but she was fairly certain she'd heard him correctly. Knowing that made her feel warm inside. Nestling in her seat, she leaned her head against the passenger window.

“Mom is going to be so excited to see me,” she said, thinking out loud. Already she could picture the way her mother's face would light up when Ashley walked in the door.

“Don't you think you should let her know?”

“No.” What was he thinking? “That would ruin the surprise.”

“What if she's made other plans for Christmas? Are you sure she intends to sit at home alone, miserable without you?”

“She would be miserable without me. This would have been our first Christmas apart since the day I was born. It was killing us both.”

“Maybe she has a boyfriend.”

An interesting thought. Ashley needed to think about that and decided it would be a good thing. “I hope she does. My mother is far too wonderful to remain alone the rest of her life. It was hard for me to leave her for graduate school. I know she'd rather have me continue on at the University of Washington. It was hard to leave her, especially knowing how lonely she was after my dad died.”

“Maybe you leaving was what she needed.”

“How do you mean?”

“She might have grown too content in her comfort zone. With you away at school, she'll be forced to reach out and become more involved in life, meet new people, that sort of thing.”

Ashley hadn't thought of it that way. “That's why you suggested Mom might have a love interest.” Her mother hadn't mentioned anyone, but then she might feel a bit shy telling her about another man. What Dash said made sense.

“My mother dated some, but she's never gotten serious about another man,” he said.

“Your mom's a widow, too?” He hadn't said anything about that earlier.

“Yes.”

Here was another something they had in common.

“I remember my first Christmas away from home and family,” Dash said, staring straight ahead. “I was in Afghanistan. From the time I could remember I'd always looked forward to Christmas. My mother loves to bake and the holidays give her an excuse to make dozens upon dozens of cookies. My favorites are these little round balls with nuts that she rolls in powdered sugar. I could eat a dozen in one sitting.”