Deliverer

Chapter 18

Truman stood on the paved circle drive, reviewing the raid briefly with Grey to make sure he and his team felt prepared and competent. Grey and team climbed into the black cargo van and headed down the mountain.

Truman waited until they were gone before making his own exit. He paused next to his yellow Camaro. Better take a car that wasn't so flashy. He backed one of the old black cars out of the garage. It clunked all the way down the gravel drive, and Truman hoped fervently it wouldn't die on the way to the highway.

Claber called just as Truman reached the bottom."Jefferson says the girls are in custody in Rome, New York. The police are following orders to the T, and Jefferson expects to have them before nightfall."

Truman gnawed on his lip. "I won't get therein time. I'm on my way to the airport now. Can you meet him?"

"I'm on the eastern side of the state. I'll head that way, but the girls will beat me."

Jefferson would hate this. "Have him hold them somewhere for a few hours. One of us will be there shortly."

"I'll call him."

#

An hour and a half later, Truman checked into the Quebec International airport terminal as Alex King. His phone rang while Truman handed his matching credit card over to the attendant.He missed the call, but before he could grab it to check the caller,it began ringing again.

Thanking the attendant and securing his passport and tickets, Truman backed into a corner and answered. "Hello."

"Boss." Claber's voice hissed through the receiver. "The brats got away again."

What Claber was saying was absolutely impossible,and it took Truman several seconds to find his voice. "That can't be."

"It is. Remember those two boys? They followed the police cruiser and caused an accident. They've all vanished."

Truman couldn't breathe. Here he was with a plane ticket in hand, ready to have the girls in his possession. And once again, they had evaded him. "Find them," he said, and his voice shook. "Find them, or it's your head!"

He shoved his phone into his pocket and stared at the boarding pass. He didn't need to go right now, not if the girls had vanished again. McAllister's timeline was about up and he still needed to finish planning his escape route.

He stepped back in line at the terminal. He had no power here, and he hoped they wouldn't have a problem changing his departure date by four days.

#

Alone again in the big house, Truman double-checked his luggage, making sure he had the essentials. Then he went through the jewels in the safe, counting and adding. All accounted for. And he'd make several million off them, as soon as he found a buyer.

He ignored the crushing anxiety that built in his head. These things took time. A trinket in this city, another in a different city. Selling the jewelry couldn't be rushed, not if he wanted to get the best price.

There was always Ebay.

The thought drew up the corners of his mouth, but just as quickly, he sighed. Too easy to track.

The early morning hours crept on, and Truman spent the majority of them tracking western routes in Alaska and comparing them with the ability to fly out to several different island groupings. His escape had to be remote, invisible, and perfect.His lids began to close around two a.m. He stretched out on the couch and fell asleep.

He didn't wake until noon when Barley licked him right across his nose. Bright midday sunlight streamed through the windows on the second floor. Barley sat back in the middle of his stacks of papers.