She grimaced, and patted me on the shoulder. “If you feel the need to slip out, just come through the kitchen and pay. Frank will let you out the back door.”
“I appreciate it.”
She nodded and walked back to the counter. I sipped my coffee and watched the wind roll an empty Coke bottle across the road. Part of me longed to turn around and see just what those men in the black car were doing, but I dared not let them know anything might be wrong. So I drank, and ate the pancakes, and generally tried to ignore the tension creeping through my limbs.
After a while, the woman came back with the check. “He’s just slipping back in now, in case you’re wondering.”
“Thanks,” I said, with a smile.
As she walked back toward the kitchen, I glanced at the check and got out the money, adding an extremely generous tip in the process. Hell, it wasn’t my money anyway, and maybe she’d be more inclined to think kindly about us if things got nasty.
Trae slipped into the booth a few seconds later, and wrapped his hands around his coffee. “You know, for a woman who doesn’t like pancakes, you sure as hell made a good job of finishing them off.”
“And for a thief, you sure as hell did a lousy job of sneaking about.”
He frowned. “And why would you think that? Those men didn’t spot me.”
“No, but the old girl and her cook did. I told them we were sneaking away from my hubby’s trackers.”
“Not very original.”
“When lying, it pays to stick to the classics. They tend to be more believable.”
“And you know this from experience?”
“Hey, you were caught.”
He grimaced. “I misjudged the size of my shoulders and that window, but I was hoping they wouldn’t notice above the usual kitchen noise.”
“Frank apparently has a past and eagle eyes. The old girl said we could slip out the back if we wanted to.”
“As long as they’re watching us, they’re not noticing the tires. That’s what we want right now. You ready to go?”
I gulped down the rest of my coffee and rose. The itching at the back of my neck got stronger, and as we made our way to the door, I stole a glance at the car.
One man was out and leaning on the door, and his expression, even from this distance, looked somewhat agitated.
“Act normal,” Trae repeated, as if reading my thoughts. “And keep hoping they won’t do anything here, out in the open.”
He pushed the diner’s front door wide and ushered me through. The wind swirled around us, lifting the hair from the nape of my neck and running cold fingers down my spine. I shivered and crossed my arms, trying to keep warm against the sudden chill.
Trae touched my back as he moved up beside me, placing his body between me and those men. His light touch sent warmth skittering across my skin, and though it did little to battle the internal chill, I felt a tad more secure.
But not safe. Not with those men so close.
“Has he gotten back into the car yet?” I murmured, my gaze on Trae’s stolen black car.
“No. He’s still standing behind the open door. The driver is still on the phone.”
“Something is going on.”
“It won’t matter in a couple of seconds.”
In a couple of seconds I’d be a nervous wreck. God, how I wanted to run to his car and get the hell away from them. The urge to do just that was so great my muscles were practically twitching.
As we neared Trae’s car, his touch left me, and the chill returned twofold. He pressed the auto unlock. The lights flashed, and orange light skittered across the road, looking almost bloody against the dark asphalt.
A tremor ran down my spine. I grasped the handle, eager to get out of here.