Brain Storm, Cat Gilbert [read books for money TXT] 📗
- Author: Cat Gilbert
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Book online «Brain Storm, Cat Gilbert [read books for money TXT] 📗». Author Cat Gilbert
Mac directed us to park at the end of a row, between a van and an RV. Trinity had barely put it in park before Mac was out the door and herding us into the RV.
It wasn’t a new RV, but it was clean and roomy, and our suitcases and bags from the house were packed inside. We threw the drinks and bags of food onto the table as Jonas opened a cabinet and tossed the bag of gold inside. I looked around, impressed and gave Mac a nod of approval. We had discussed the need for transportation that would be easier on Mama D, not knowing how long we would need to be on the road or when we would be able to make stops. This fit the bill perfectly.
I snagged a couple more fries to take the edge off and then headed into the store with Trinity to stock up on supplies for the RV. By the time we were back, the boys and Mama D had eaten, and Mama D was settled into a comfortable looking recliner, with her seat belt on, sound asleep.
As Mac pulled out of the parking lot and back onto the highway, we threw what was left of the fries and burgers into the microwave and ate. I wasn’t really hungry after all my munching, and the nuked fries and burgers left a lot to be desired, but I knew I needed food after the afternoon we’d had. My stomach had just started to unclench when the RV changed lanes and began to slow. Looking out the window, I could see we were once again exiting the highway. By the time I got to the front, Mac was pulling into a grocery store parking lot, where he once again parked the RV.
“We already have food,” I informed him, confused, “Why are we stopping?”
“See you in Texarkana,” he said, tossing Jonas the keys before turning his attention to me. “Get your bag and whatever else you need. We’re leaving.”
Leaving? I glanced over at Jonas not sure of what was going on, only to get a half-hearted wave goodbye before he slid into the driver’s seat and started up the RV. Apparently, I was leaving.
I waved to Trinity as I grabbed my bag and headed out the door. I had put these two in charge of getting us out of Little Rock, and they seemed happy with how things were going. I had to trust that they knew what they were doing, but it was hard, not knowing and going on blind faith.
I followed Mac as he headed to an old Camaro parked a few rows down from the RV. It had obviously seen better days, but when Mac started it up, even a novice could tell this was a street machine. He roared out of the parking lot, leaving Jonas trailing behind in our wake.
As we merged onto the highway, I looked back to see the RV crossing the overpass behind us. I pulled my seat belt tight and leaned back, closing my eyes in relief. We had done it. We had the gold and everyone was alive and well. What tomorrow would bring only tomorrow knew, but for tonight, for this minute, it was over.
I WOKE UP as we took the exit off the highway into Texarkana a few hours later. Mac pulled the Camaro into a truck stop and got out to tank up while I tried to wake up. Finally, I got out, stretching my muscles just as Jonas pulled in with the RV, before heading inside to the bathrooms.
The great thing about truck stops is you can buy practically anything there, and no one pays any attention to you. The bad thing is they are loaded with security cameras. Just to be on the safe side, I kept my head down as I made my way through the display racks, so I was surprised when Trinity passed me, practically shoving me out of the way in her haste.
When I finally turned the corner into the women’s room, she was sitting on a sofa set just inside the door, a big smile on her face. I passed by, ignoring her, as I looked around to verify we were alone. The stall doors were floor to ceiling, so it took more than just a glance around. Two of the doors were partially closed, and Trinity gave me an exasperated look when I held up a silencing hand while I went to check behind them.
“You think there’re spies in the toilets at the truck stop?”
“No,” I said, heading toward one of the empty stalls, “but I do think there’re eyes and ears everywhere and we can’t be too careful. Or didn’t you see your photo on the front page of the paper during your mad dash through the store? What’s up with that anyway? You’re riding in a toilet with wheels, for Pete's sake.”
She didn’t answer, and I looked around to find her sitting there with her mouth hanging open. Either she didn’t know there was a toilet in the RV or she hadn’t seen the paper. I was willing to bet she hadn’t seen the paper.
“Give me a heads up if someone comes in,” I said, shutting the door behind me.
Within seconds, she was outside the door of the stall.
“What’s my photo doing on the front page?” she hissed at me. “You think they know something? Are they looking for me?”
“Candice. Are you watching the door?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Okay, then. In answer to your question, I have no idea. I’ll pick one up on the way out.”
I hit her with the door when I came out, nearly knocking her down.
“Don’t you need to go, Candice? I mean there seemed to be a big rush,” I said, laughing, as I washed my hands.
“I went in the RV. I just didn’t want to look like I was following you. Sorry.” I looked in the mirror in time to see her flop back down on the sofa. From excited and happy to scared and fearful, to despondent and sad, in the blink of an eye. She’d had a day of it.
“Sorry about what?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood. I dried my hands and shot the wet towels into the trash. “It was a good idea. One we’ll use on the way out. And you were good at it. Had me fooled. I thought you really had to pee.” That, at least, got a smile out of her, which was more than I had hoped for. “Look, you head out first. Don’t run, but don’t dally, and keep your head down. There’re security cameras. I’ll get a drink and the paper and be out after you. You ready?”
She nodded and went out the door. I waited for a minute or so and headed out behind her. I got a couple of fountain drinks and a bag of corn nuts and headed to the counter to pay. I had her add the paper to the total and picked up a copy on the way out the door, folding Trinity’s photo to the inside and tucking it under my arm as I juggled the two drinks and the nuts. Jonas had already pulled out, and Mac was checking the oil when I got back in the car. He slammed the hood, hopped in, and we were off.
I showed him the front of the paper and settled down to read while he ripped open the corn nuts. Trinity was on the front page, but it was an article about one of her current cases and what was going to happen now that she was deceased. They’d printed her picture more as a footnote to the case than anything else, and it was in the Arkansas Democrat Gazette which was even better. We had just crossed into Texas, and they weren’t really all that concerned with the news in Arkansas.
I put the paper down about the same time Mac was fishing the last of the corn nuts out of the bag.
“You didn’t want any of these, right?” He paused in the act of popping the last few kernels into his mouth, waiting for me to answer.
“No. I just got them because they were there and I needed to buy something. I didn’t think anyone would actually eat them.”
Grinning, he tossed them into his mouth and made a big production of chewing them up. Great. I was trapped in a car with a comedian. I turned to look out my window, determined not to encourage him by providing an audience, smiling in spite of myself. We were all a little slap happy after the afternoon’s success with the possible exception of Jonas. He was still having a hard time dealing with everything, but he was hanging in there, and I had to give him kudos for that.
“I need to call Trinity and let her know the paper was nothing to worry about,” I told him, shaking my head at his antics as I pulled out a phone. Cell phones had been at the top of the list of our purchases at Wal-Mart. We had picked up a handful of pay-as-you-go phones and activated them while we were there. We needed a way to communicate, and the phones were the best way to do that. Use them for a couple of days, toss them and get new ones. Nearly impossible to track or trace. The crooks loved them.
Mac and I quickly went over the plan for tomorrow. We needed to stop at a bank in Dallas and move the funds from Mac’s offshore account into separate numbered accounts for each of us. Right now, Mac was the only one with access, and
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