Hill Country Holdup

The doctor warned him to take it easy for the next several days as he left the hospital. As if he actually would. A kid was still missing. And his ex-lover was climbing the FBI’s most wanted list.

George punched the unlock button for the F150. “I can’t take you anywhere but home, Steve. Orders.”

“Who’s in charge?” He climbed in, still stiff from the drug.

“McCaffrey. He knows about your history with Jane. You’re on official medical leave until they know exactly what that serum did to you. Among other unanswered questions.”

Like how he was involved. “Are they through at her apartment?”

“Don’t do this to yourself, man.”

“What would you do?” He yanked the Stetson to his lap and rested his throbbing head against the seat.

“She left you, Steve. She packed up and moved after two words—good and bye.”

George started the engine. A light rain distorted the on-coming headlights. Steve leaned his aching forehead on the cool side window.

“It was a bit more complicated than that,” he said quietly, his thoughts being thrust back four years to a time he’d rather block from his memory.

“You can come with me,” Jane had said calmly. He could hear the disbelief in her voice. Disbelief that he encouraged her to follow her dream, to take a job offer that didn’t come along twice in a lifetime.

“It’s not that easy, honey. I’d have to wait for an opening to transfer. I’d lose my place on the team. You know what’s coming up. This is the undercover break I wanted. It may be months before you hear from me, and I can’t let you—”

“Don’t say it, Steve. Don’t tell me I’ve got to live up to my potential. Don’t say you won’t stand in my way.”

“What kind of a life would we have here? I’m gone months at a time. You’d spend hours in a lab doing mindless work. You’d choose that kind of life over your dream job? You’ve been dying for this opportunity.”

“You figured all this out on your own. No discussion?”

“I belong here, hon.” He pulled her into his arms.

“And what about us?” Her hands went around his waist, holding on to him like a lifeline.

He held her, never wanting to let go, but knowing it was the best he could do at the moment. “We can’t forget about everything we’ve both worked—”

She cut his stupid words off with a kiss. One that released every emotion bottled up inside him. Their lovemaking was exquisite, unhurried and all night.

And in the end, she’d left.

The opportunity at Johns Hopkins was too important and prestigious to pass up. If she’d stayed in Dallas, she would have regretted it the rest of their lives. He’d gone undercover posing for the next five months as a husband desperate to adopt a child. His team had run the sting trying to stop the illegal sale of abducted children.

Nothing had gone right. His cover had been blown. They’d lost track of the kids. He still wasn’t over that.

But their breakup had been for the best. Jane hadn’t written from Baltimore. He hadn’t heard from her. Not even an e-mail. He couldn’t blame Jane for leaving. He’d pushed her out the door.

Another person gone. But this one had come back and hadn’t called. She’d made her choice.

Enough said.

It took twenty minutes to get to his house, but only ten to get Jane’s address from George. It was close to the University of Texas campus in Arlington. Close to where she’d lived when she’d been in school. Close to where they’d met.

Okay, pal. Build a bridge and get over it. Keep a level head or you’ll give the brass a reason to keep you off the case even longer.

Feeling like warmed-over cow patties, he should have stayed home. But this was Jane.

His gut told him two plus two just didn’t add up to four. Flashing his badge at the officer still at the scene, he ducked under the crime scene tape and entered the totally wrecked apartment. There hadn’t been any reason for his team to be gentle.

Stacks of empty cutesy frames that had filled every nook of her apartment four years ago were dumped from boxes as if she hadn’t unpacked. Jane loved pictures, but she had a habit of buying the frame and forgetting to print the picture to fill it. The knickknacks cluttering the top shelves matched everything he remembered. Nails, but no pictures on the walls. Nothing on the lower shelves.

One bedroom remained completely empty. Odd. The desk was in the living area. Why get a two-bedroom if you’re going to put your desk inconveniently by the patio door? Didn’t make sense. Jane was a scientist and couldn’t live without having access to her files and external hard drive. So where was the computer? She hauled the entire PC with her on a kidnapping?

He still couldn’t believe she was involved.

The same comforter she’d had since she was eleven lay bunched in the middle of her bed. That was more like her—a creature of habit. During their three months together it had been hard to get her to change any routine.

That uncomfortable feeling crept up the back of his neck again. The feeling he got when things were about to go from bad to worse.

Upturned bureau drawers cluttered the floor. Clothes were piled under them. He picked up a picture of a very young Jane with her mother. She still had big sad eyes, as if she carried the fate of the world on her shoulders. Just one lone picture?

It didn’t make sense.

Still slender with dark auburn hair, she hadn’t changed. Well, her bangs were dark. That was all he’d seen under that cap. He ran his finger over her lips. They’d still be soft and luscious.

Opening the drawer in the nightstand, he found the book. Just one. A very used copy of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.

Jackpot.

It had been a challenge to find a book she’d never read. A book she couldn’t quote by heart. He didn’t need to open the cover to see the words written inside, but he did anyway. “My favorite book is yours. Love, Steve.” He’d struggled with the words long enough, wanting them to be meaningful, yet casual.

He’d come here specifically to find this, just in case the reference to one of its characters in his “antidote note” hadn’t been a fluke. He flipped through the pages, finding a Valentine’s Day card with last year’s date and a “Love, Hayden.”

Who was Hayden?

Under the card was a picture of Jane and himself at his parents’ lake house. He flipped it over. Austin Lake Country where Steve assured me I wasn’t alone in the galaxy.

She’d kept the book and his picture.

Dr. Jane Palmer closely guarded a secret about herself. He’d given her his favorite book for her birthday present, then found out she had an amazing memory. She could recite chapters of books she’d read in college.

Shoot, he couldn’t go down memory lane right now. But he could go exactly where Jane had pointed him. Lake Buchanan, near Austin.

He pulled out his cell and had his thumb over the speed dial for George. It was more than a hunch now. Jane had deliberately left him a trail. She needed him.

But why not call the FBI? Why not write on the antidote note that she was in trouble? Why “Zaphod”? Because he’d understand immediately, and no one else would.

What if he were wrong? McCaffrey would have his head if he misdirected the team. He didn’t want to be permanently relieved of duty. Right?

He brought up the directory and retrieved the number for Southwest Airlines. If he were lucky, he could catch the first plane to Austin and bring Jane in alone. It was the safest way to get her to turn herself in and sort out why she was working with kidnappers.