Page 32 of Rogue Survivor
For several long moments, I stare into the whale’s faded eyes. If anything happened to the plush animal, Veronica would be heartbroken, so I slide him back onto the shelf above her bed. “Watch over the place, Sasha.” With a final pat to her tail, I zip up the suitcase and roll it out to the living room. “I think this is it.”
“Not quite.” Connor joins me and holds out his hand. “I need your phone.”
“My phone? It’s been dead since last night. Why?” Wrapping my arms around myself tightly, the suitcase between us, I peer up at him, completely baffled.
“It stays here. Along with anything else that has a GPS chip. I doubt Boswell has the skills—or the brains—to run a trace, but the cops could.” He motions for me to hand it over, and the sweet, understanding man who emptied my fridge is gone. This is Connor Davis, FBI Special Agent. The change in his demeanor is both reassuring and terrifying.
Digging in my purse, I pull out the phone. “What about work? I’ll have to call my office soon. I told them I had a family emergency, but that won’t be enough for them for long. And Veronica’s school…”
HIs gaze softens, and he sidesteps the suitcase to take me in his arms. “I’ll pick up a couple of burner phones tomorrow. No GPS in older models. You can call anyone you want as long as you don’t tell them where you are or any details about Veronica’s…situation.”
“Okay.” I don’t know why the idea of giving up the hunk of glass and plastic is so unsettling. It ran out of juice not long after Connor got to the hospital, and I didn’t bother to plug it in. Why? There wasn’t anyone I needed—or wanted—to talk to. Still isn’t, besides the man in front of me and my daughter.
Pull off the Band-Aid, Isabel. Don’t think about it. Just…let it go.
When I do, Connor checks to make sure it really is dead, then sets it on the coffee table. “I’m sorry, darlin’. I know this is a lot.” He leans down and brushes his lips to mine, but before I can wrap my arms around him, his own mobile buzzes in his pocket.
“Son of a bitch,” he growls when he checks the screen. “Leah Nelson is two minutes away.”
“Wh-what? I thought you said she’d be in protective custody?”
“She was. Stillis, technically. One of the Rangers assigned to her just texted me.” He rolls his eyes, and his fingers fly over the tiny keyboard on his phone. “She went out the bathroom window, found some civilian on the street, and begged him to use his phone to call a cab. By the time her detail caught sight of her, she was gettin’ in the taxi.”
With a quick glance at the front door, I swallow hard. What am I going to say to her?
I’m sorry.
I wanted to call you.
Connor says there’s every reason to believe Mitzi’s still alive.
I can’t say any of those things.
“Can I…talk to her?” No lie, I almost hope Connor says no.
“If you don’t, I’m worried she’ll cause a scene as big as hell and half of Texas.” He rubs the back of his neck with a groan. “Invite her in. But let me do most of the talking.”
Brakes squeal outside, and a moment later, Leah bangs on the door so hard, it shakes. “Isabel! Open up right now!”
The sun glares off the taxi cab window as it pulls away from the curb, and before I can ask Leah to come in, she slaps me so hard across the face, my whole cheek stings.
“How could you?” she screams.
“Fuckin’ hell.” Connor’s boots echo on the hardwood floor as he rushes over to me and wraps his arm around my waist. “Touch her again, and I’ll have you locked in a windowless room with a bucket rather than the cushy apartment you just escaped from. Get in here before the whole neighborhood hears your hollering.”
Leah stalks past us in silence, and after Connor slams the door, he cups my chin and angles my head to examine my cheek. “That’s gonna swell. Don’t get within arm’s reach of her again. I’ll get you an ice pack.”
I want to tell him not to bother. That I deserve a little pain. My child is safe. Protected. And hers isn’t. But Connor’s already rummaging in my freezer. “Leah, I’m sorry—”
“You’re a piece of work, you know that?” She paces back and forth in front of the mantle, her hands balled into fists at her sides. “Veronica turns up—without Mitzi—and you don’t even contact me? Maybe if you hadn’t been such a complete and total bitch, Mitzi wouldn’t be out there scared and alone, in the hands of some…some…”
“Someone who knows Mitzi is much more valuable to him alive and unharmed,” Connor says as he hands me a bag of frozen corn. “If you want to be angry with someone, Ms. Nelson, I’m right here.I’mthe one who told Isabel not to call you. I’m also the one who arranged for that protective detail keeping you safe.”
She gapes at him, tears gathering in her eyes, and I drop the makeshift ice pack so I can hug her. “Leah, I wanted to call you. But Veronica was so scared when she woke up in the hospital. She didn’t tell me anything until someone came into her room last night and tried tokill her.”
Leah crumbles in my arms, sobs shaking her entire body. “I just want my daughter back,” she mumbles against my shoulder. “I need Mitzi.”
“I know, hon. I know.”
