“Any of those ring a bell?”
She shook her head. “I told you, I don’t know her real name.” And perhaps the woman hadn’t known hers. She hadn’t used Mia’s name when she’d called out to her in the alley before Jude and she had driven off together. “I don’t even know if she’s really blonde.”
“Maybe we’ll find out. I sent her picture to Logan, one of my IT specialists. Poking around the Vietnamese Customs database will get us a matching name.”
Suspicions billowed up again, smoke from a simmering fire. “And you just happen to have her picture.”
He nodded somberly. “I do. Because when I was buying the food, she was driving up and down the streets in the restaurant district. I followed her. She got out a couple times to try to talk to people. I took some photos on my camera phone.”
Fear skittered up her spine. The food she’d been eating seemed to clog in her throat. “She followed us?”
“Doubtful.” He reached for another box, considered its contents before offering it mutely to her. When she shook her head he emptied it onto his plate. “But she might have considered the avenues out of the country and figured you couldn’t chance the airport. The water would be the next logical choice.”
Mia stared at him, arrested. “I wouldn’t have tried either.”
Cocking a brow, he chewed deliberately before asking, “You hoped to hide indefinitely?”
“No, I’d steal a scooter if I could. A bike if I couldn’t. Leave town, keeping to the smaller villages. Head to Hanoi, change my appearance, and use another ID to get an airline ticket.”
“Well, at least you had a plan.” Seeming finally full, he began stuffing the trash into the empty bags. “Probably wouldn’t have worked if a Vietnamese version of a BOLO had gone out country-wide.”
There was no reason for the criticism to smart. It wasn’t like she gave a damn about his opinion. “And you have a fool-proof escape strategy?”
“Nothing’s fool-proof.” He wadded up the cartons in the sacks and set them on the floor. If there was a trash receptacle in the room, Mia hadn’t seen it. “But I’ve got some names of fishermen. Given the right incentive, one will agree to leave tonight, head for the Philippines.”
“Somehow that seems fraught with possible complications.”
“Complications are unavoidable. But all things considered, I like my odds.” He fiddled with his phone for a few moments, then surprised her by stretching out on the bed, setting the cell beside him. Folding his arms beneath his head on the pillow, he closed his eyes. “The boats won’t return for hours yet. Don’t forget to close and lock the window.”
Mia gaped at him, vaguely insulted. He was sleeping? With an armed pissed off suspicious woman in the room? “You do appear to enjoy living dangerously.”
“If you were going to use that knife on me, you’d have done it already.” He didn’t bother opening his eyes. “And whatever doubts you might have, I’m your best chance of getting out of the country.”
The truth in his pronouncement burned. She wasn’t without options, but traveling with Bishop might be safer than striking out on her own. She didn’t trust him yet—not even close. But his story about Raiker was just as plausible as was her fear he’d sold her out.
“There’s plenty of room on the bed.” A man shouldn’t look that comfortable in a room with a woman still contemplating doing him bodily harm. “You should get some sleep. Now, or later when I go out to find a boat for this evening.”
Mia eyed the bed. It wouldn’t have passed for a double in the States, and he filled it up. His shoulders were surprisingly broad for someone so lean. And the chances that she’d crawl up there with him were only slightly less likely than the chance she’d ever close her eyes with another person in the room. Time and Dr. Halston had helped her heal. But the doctor had been a psychologist, not a magician. Some
She shook her head. “I told you, I don’t know her real name.” And perhaps the woman hadn’t known hers. She hadn’t used Mia’s name when she’d called out to her in the alley before Jude and she had driven off together. “I don’t even know if she’s really blonde.”
“Maybe we’ll find out. I sent her picture to Logan, one of my IT specialists. Poking around the Vietnamese Customs database will get us a matching name.”
Suspicions billowed up again, smoke from a simmering fire. “And you just happen to have her picture.”
He nodded somberly. “I do. Because when I was buying the food, she was driving up and down the streets in the restaurant district. I followed her. She got out a couple times to try to talk to people. I took some photos on my camera phone.”
Fear skittered up her spine. The food she’d been eating seemed to clog in her throat. “She followed us?”
“Doubtful.” He reached for another box, considered its contents before offering it mutely to her. When she shook her head he emptied it onto his plate. “But she might have considered the avenues out of the country and figured you couldn’t chance the airport. The water would be the next logical choice.”
Mia stared at him, arrested. “I wouldn’t have tried either.”
Cocking a brow, he chewed deliberately before asking, “You hoped to hide indefinitely?”
“No, I’d steal a scooter if I could. A bike if I couldn’t. Leave town, keeping to the smaller villages. Head to Hanoi, change my appearance, and use another ID to get an airline ticket.”
“Well, at least you had a plan.” Seeming finally full, he began stuffing the trash into the empty bags. “Probably wouldn’t have worked if a Vietnamese version of a BOLO had gone out country-wide.”
There was no reason for the criticism to smart. It wasn’t like she gave a damn about his opinion. “And you have a fool-proof escape strategy?”
“Nothing’s fool-proof.” He wadded up the cartons in the sacks and set them on the floor. If there was a trash receptacle in the room, Mia hadn’t seen it. “But I’ve got some names of fishermen. Given the right incentive, one will agree to leave tonight, head for the Philippines.”
“Somehow that seems fraught with possible complications.”
“Complications are unavoidable. But all things considered, I like my odds.” He fiddled with his phone for a few moments, then surprised her by stretching out on the bed, setting the cell beside him. Folding his arms beneath his head on the pillow, he closed his eyes. “The boats won’t return for hours yet. Don’t forget to close and lock the window.”
Mia gaped at him, vaguely insulted. He was sleeping? With an armed pissed off suspicious woman in the room? “You do appear to enjoy living dangerously.”
“If you were going to use that knife on me, you’d have done it already.” He didn’t bother opening his eyes. “And whatever doubts you might have, I’m your best chance of getting out of the country.”
The truth in his pronouncement burned. She wasn’t without options, but traveling with Bishop might be safer than striking out on her own. She didn’t trust him yet—not even close. But his story about Raiker was just as plausible as was her fear he’d sold her out.
“There’s plenty of room on the bed.” A man shouldn’t look that comfortable in a room with a woman still contemplating doing him bodily harm. “You should get some sleep. Now, or later when I go out to find a boat for this evening.”
Mia eyed the bed. It wouldn’t have passed for a double in the States, and he filled it up. His shoulders were surprisingly broad for someone so lean. And the chances that she’d crawl up there with him were only slightly less likely than the chance she’d ever close her eyes with another person in the room. Time and Dr. Halston had helped her heal. But the doctor had been a psychologist, not a magician. Some
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