A hundred and fifty thousand dollars . . .
Then she sighed. No matter how much money he was offering, she had other people to consider. “It won’t work,” she said flatly. “If he has a killer stalking him, I won’t endanger the people around here. I just won’t.”
“You won’t be,” Axel assured her. “There’s no connection to make, no way of tracing him to you. Just give him a place to hide out. I guess I could send him to a safe house, but security has been breached so none of those would be safe—and that’s why I’m contacting you out of network. The problem is internal.”
The dilemma was immediate, and maddening. She needed the money, but she didn’t trust Axel. She didn’t want a strange man—and a wounded one, at that—staying with her, but he wasn’t capable of leaving. So he was staying for at least a short while, whether she wanted him to or not, unless she called Jesse or an ambulance and had him hauled . . . where? There was a local doctor, but as far as she could tell, Morgan Yancy didn’t need medical care, he needed time to heal and regain his strength. If she had him taken to a hospital, he’d be in the computer system, which meant that if she believed Axel even a little bit, she’d be endangering the man’s life.
Okay. She didn’t trust Axel, though to be truthful she didn’t know if that was because he truly wasn’t trustworthy or if it was simply because she disliked him so much. He evidently had some kind of government job but, considering the government, that wasn’t really much of a recommendation.
She said, “Hold on,” and held the phone down against her thigh to cover up the speaker so Axel couldn’t hear. Approaching the SUV, she said, “Yancy?”
He opened his eyes halfway, a gleam of blue in the grayness of his face, and muttered, “Yeah?”
“Axel said there’s no way to trace you to me.”
He took a deep breath, or tried to. She caught the sudden hitch, as if his chest muscles protested. His throat worked as he swallowed, then he said, “That’s why I drove. No record, and the Tahoe is clean, can’t be linked back.”
“Drove from where?”
He gave a small shake of his head, meaning he wasn’t going to tell her. Given his condition, he had probably come a fair distance, either that or—Damn it! “Exactly when did you get out of the hospital?”
“This morning,” he said, and let his eyes close again.
Double damn it.
She might regret it, almost probably she would regret it, but a hundred and fifty thousand was a lot of money and even though she didn’t trust Axel, she could see for herself that the man in front of her wasn’t a threat—not now, at least. Even more, he was relying on Axel not to betray him, and presumably he knew her former stepbrother better than she did, which really wouldn’t take much at all because his father and her mother had been married a grand total of eight months. Morgan Yancy was betting his life he could trust Axel.
She lifted the phone to her ear again. “All right,” she said, keeping it brief. “But if the money isn’t in my account in two days, I’m putting him on the road.”
“It will be,” Axel said. “It’ll be there tomorrow.”
Now that the decision had been made, for good or ill, Bo turned her mind toward practical matters. “Let me get my bank account routing number.”
“Please.” The word was full of disdain. “I already have it.” The phone clicked and the connection was gone; he’d hung up.
She thumbed the button to cut the connection on her end, then stood looking at the phone. “Now what?”
Yancy shifted in the seat and lifted his head slowly, as if the effort was almost more than he could manage. He held out his hand, and Bo placed the phone in it. He deftly took the phone apart and removed the battery, as if it were something he’d done a thousand times.
Having decided enough was enough, Tricks gave another bark, this one special. She had a whole repertoire of different sounds she used to bend humans to her will, and the plaintive, high-pitched puppy bark was her ace in the hole. It was her “Mom, help me!” call, and even though Bo knew she was being manipulated, she was usually so amused that she did whatever Tricks wanted. Right now, Tricks wanted out of the Jeep, which was simple enough.
“I’ll be right back,” she said, leaving him where he was and walking back over to the Jeep. She began shivering and pulled her denim jacket closer around her. The temperature had dropped easily ten degrees just since she’d pulled into the driveway. She opened the passenger door and put the pistol in her jacket pocket while she freed Tricks from the harness. She was no longer afraid Yancy was going to jump her, but, hey, it didn’t cost anything to be careful.
Tricks grabbed her tennis ball and bounded out of the Jeep, her whole body wiggling with joy. Before Bo could grab her collar, she was gone, racing over to the Tahoe and around to the driver’s side. Tricks loved to meet people, but Morgan Yancy might not be an animal lover or in any mood to be licked and nudged to throw the ball, which to Tricks was the greatest honor she could grant someone.
“No!” Bo said, running after her pet though she knew it was already too late. She just hoped Tricks didn’t climb into the guy’s lap.
She rounded the rear bumper of the Tahoe and skidded to a halt. Tricks was right there in the open door, of course, standing on her hind legs with her front paws braced on the door jamb and her face right up at the man’s. He’d opened his eyes and turned his head so that they were almost nose to nose. Before he could react, though, Tricks lowered her muzzle and sniffed at his neck, then moved slowly down his chest, pausing in one spot as if she’d found something interesting. Bo stilled, wondering if that was where he’d been shot.