Hansen didn’t look entirely convinced. “Why would they ever believe you’d still keep this meeting after what happened? Or have the balls … courage,” he amended, “to try to get past them to keep your appointment? Even if you wanted to? Wouldn’t they think you were still hiding out in LA? Laying low?”

“From my conversation with Drake, they probably realized how important this meeting was to me. I might be wrong, but we have to assume I’m not. We have to assume they’re here. Right now. I can’t imagine they’ll make a move as long as we’re in this crowd. And they can afford to be patient.”

Hansen gazed at her with open admiration. She sensed that he was attracted to her, but not in the usual way. She was used to men falling for her physically. But he had never once given her the sense this was about physical attraction, even when he had complimented her looks.

“Drake told me that you were very impressive,” said Hansen. “For a human,” he added wryly. “But I think he undersold you. What you did to get to LA and then Tucson was remarkable. And you think like a master detective, or a master spy. Like you’ve been engaged in cloak-and-dagger your entire life. I’ve seen your background. I know you have some pretty impressive fighting skills, but nothing suggests you’ve had any kind of actual experience with this sort of thing.”

Erin frowned. “Yeah, well, don’t congratulate me just yet. I’ve just identified the woods. I haven’t come close to getting us out of them. My secret weapon is that I read a lot of thrillers. I know this sounds crazy, but I really think it’s helped.”

Erin knew her appearance was deceiving, so maybe his was as well. He was cute, but in a down-to-earth, friendly, not particularly hardened or athletic-looking sort of way, and she had the distinct impression he was not the hired muscle. He was too smart, and seemed too thoughtful—not that physical and intellectual skills were mutually incompatible.

“What about you?” she said. “Are you a bodyguard in Drake’s organization?”

Hansen looked amused at the thought. “No. I’m afraid not.”

“Any experience with these types of situations at all? Any fighting skills? I don’t suppose you’re ex–Special Forces?”

Hansen laughed. “No. But I’ll take that as a huge compliment. I’m afraid I wasn’t even a Boy Scout. Worse, I read nothing but science fiction, so you’re ahead of me there too. I don’t know how to operate a gun, don’t know how to use a knife, and I’m pretty sure a ninety-year-old woman in a wheelchair could take me in hand-to-hand combat.”

“Okay,” said Erin with a twinkle in her eye. “I admire your … pathetic … honesty.”

“So any ideas about what we do now?” asked Hansen.

Erin turned her head away from him, wanting to pause any conversation so she could have some quality time for thought. She reexamined her logic to this point, and still found it sound. Except for one point. Would they really go to all this trouble: attack Drake, send a team to surveil them here, and everything else, just because of a few words spoken over a phone? Maybe she was letting her imagination run away with her. Fuller wouldn’t commit these kinds of resources, and take this kind of risk—openly attacking a compound in Yuma, committing a military assault on U.S. soil—unless he was certain she hadn’t just hallucinated the cure.

If her assumptions and logic were correct, they drove straight to a prediction. One that would be simple enough to test. And if it panned out, she could be nearly certain the attack on Drake wasn’t a hoax, there really were men watching them, and she wasn’t getting herself and Hansen worked up over bogeymen that didn’t actually exist.

Erin decided to continue to operate under the assumption that they did exist while she checked out her hypothesis.

She turned back to Kyle Hansen, who continued to gaze at her with a steady confidence, sure after her daring escape from San Diego she would find some way to pull a rabbit out of the hat. She found herself not wanting to disappoint him, and for reasons beyond just their personal safety.

“I need to make a phone call,” she said. “While I do, I need you to walk back to the bookstore. But take a circuitous route. Like you’re trying to decide if you should get something else to eat first. Try to spot whoever is watching us in here. My guess is he’ll be fit, won’t be a student, and will look totally occupied. As though he couldn’t possibly be watching us. Act natural and don’t be obvious.”

Hansen nodded. “I’ll try,” he said.

“My guess is that the watcher in here will alert the team outside when you leave, and they’ll be watching the entrance to the bookstore. So when you do cross between here and there, make sure you’re with a crowd so they don’t decide to try anything. When you’re inside the store get a U of A duffel bag and fill it with two large Wildcat T-shirts and two hats.”

The large shirts could be easily slipped over their current ones while adding bulk to both of them, enhancing the disguise.

“We want to be chameleons,” continued Erin. “Blend in with the students. Try not to let anyone see what you’re doing—especially not that you’re acquiring clothing.”

Hansen listened in rapt attention.

Erin paused to gather her thoughts. “The checkout is near the exit,” she continued, “so don’t check out. The watchers will see the items you’re getting if you do. Just shoplift the whole duffel and get back here as fast as you can.”

Hansen blew out a breath. “You know you’re not cut out to be Jason Bourne when the thought of shoplifting fifty dollars’ worth of clothing makes you want to vomit.”

Erin couldn’t help but smile, but she quickly became serious once again. “You know what?” she said. “Maybe don’t do the duffel bag thing. It would be too obvious a shoplift. Get a standard backpack and remove all the tags. Put the shirts and hats in there. Half the bookstore’s customers wear backpacks on a perpetual basis. And be sure to get the cheapest clothing you can find, so they don’t bother imbedding any of those shoplifting deterrent devices. You know, the super-clearance stuff they half hope someone will shoplift just so they can be rid of it. Try to wrinkle it up a bit too.”

“Are you sure you’ve never done this before?”

“Not even a candy bar. But don’t worry, Kyle. If we get out of this we can reimburse the poor university.”

Kyle Hansen pulled out his chair and rose. “If we get out of this,” he said, “I’ll throw the university a party.” He took a deep breath. “I’ll be back in five or ten minutes.”

As he was walking away, under his breath, he couldn’t help but add, “I hope.”

18

THE MOMENT HANSEN left, Erin dialed Alejandro’s personal cell phone number at the prison, using her prepaid phone. She was more relieved than she had expected to be when he answered.

“Alejandro,” she said excitedly. “It’s Erin Palmer. I’m so glad I caught you. Do you have a minute?”

“Sure. Glad I answered. For some reason my phone didn’t recognize you. How’s the vacation going? Having fun?”

Erin almost laughed out loud. Yeah, I’m having the time of my life, she thought sarcastically.

“I’m having a great time,” she said, trying to sound as sincere as possible. “I’m glad you convinced me to do this. Except I dropped my phone in a pool,” she added. “Not too smart. Anyway, I’ll tell you all about it later. I don’t have a lot of time right now. So here’s the reason for my call: were there any unusual visitors to the prison in the past few days?”

“If you mean the FBI, then I already know about it. You don’t have to fish around.”

The FBI? If her reasoning had been correct, she expected Fuller to have sent someone to visit the prison. But she wouldn’t have guessed this person would be able to impersonate the FBI.

“Great,” said Erin. “So, ah … what, exactly, do you know?” she said.