“This Hartmann guy must be a very powerful man to be able to launch an illegal investigation like that,” Joe acknowledged. “And close your bank account. The people who broke into your apartment were probably paid henchmen, but the others involved in the search must be some sort of government agents. It’s just so hard to accept that it’s possible for someone to abuse power like that.”

Jamie didn’t so much as finish telling her story as run out of steam. She would think of things she had not told him, and he would quiz her in search of more details. But what he needed to do now was get them some breakfast and let her sleep for a few hours. He had two last questions, however. Did she still have a copy of the contract she had signed? And what was the name of the attorney in Austin who had arranged for her to enter into a surrogate-mother contract with Amanda Hartmann and her husband?

Jamie explained that when she was packing up her possessions at the ranch, she realized that the contract was gone. “I’m sure that Miss Montgomery took it, but by that time, I knew I was leaving and wasn’t about to raise any more issues with her.”

While he was waiting at the pancake house for their carry-out breakfast, he placed a call to one of his former law professors at the University of Texas. Franklin Billingsley had served two terms as state attorney general and knew just about everything there was to know about the Texas legal system.

“I understand that you’ve applied for a job with the FBI,” Professor Billingsley said.

“What makes you say that?” Joe asked.

“A woman from the agency showed up at the law school asking questions about you. She said you’d put in an application with them, and the agency was conducting a background check.”

“That’s very interesting,” Joe said, “but I’m calling about something else. I wonder if you know an Austin attorney named Bentley Abernathy.”

“Abernathy? I’ve met him. He’s given a couple of guest lectures at the law school. He made quite a name for himself sorting out the mess left by old Buck Hartmann, who founded Palo Duro Oil and Gas and acquired a mountain of mineral rights through hook or crook. The bulk of Abernathy’s practice continues to deal with Palo Duro and handling in-state affairs for the Hartmann family.”

“What sort of person is he?”

“In what way?”

“Shady or not shady?”

“I think he’s managed to keep things on the right side of the law. Old Buck’s grandson runs Palo Duro now and maybe the whole damned country if you believe some of the rumors.”

The professor paused a second then added, “But don’t you go around asking questions about Gus Hartmann, Joe. I hear things from time to time. Hartmann is not someone with whom you want to get at cross-purposes. And reconsider this FBI business. You belong in a courtroom, son.”

Chapter Thirty-three

THEY ATE AT THE table next to the window with the draperies still tightly closed. They could hear the footsteps and voices of people walking by the window and packing up their cars.

Joe told her about the phone call to his professor then added, “I think we should be moving on-before someone discovers that I own a motorcycle.”

“Any ideas as to where?” Jamie asked.

Joe nodded. “As a matter of fact, yes.”

They packed up their few possessions and loaded them in the Harley saddlebags. Jamie had no choice but to climb onboard, with her baby slung out of sight across her stomach. Carrying an infant on a motorcycle was not only unsafe, it was surely against the law. She wanted to tell Joe to drive carefully, but he must realize how disastrous even a minor accident could be to her unprotected baby.

He stopped at a Target on the way out of town and waited while she replaced her tattered shoes.

Staying on country roads and driving at a very sedate speed, he wove his way south. By midmorning they had crossed under Interstate 10. When Billy started to fuss, Joe headed down a country lane, and Jamie leaned against a tree trunk while she fed her hungry baby. Joe had stopped looking away, but he didn’t stare either. When she was finished, she handed Billy to Joe and found a sheltered place to relieve herself.

They ate chicken sandwiches in the town of Wharton and rested for a time on a shady patch of grass at a small park with Billy lying between them and entertaining himself by kicking furiously and waving his arms. “We’re heading for the gulf, aren’t we?” Jamie asked.

Joe nodded. “Yeah, there’re some cabins near a place called Neptune Beach. At least I hope the cabins are still there. My grandparents and I stayed there for several days back when I was in grade school. As I recall, it’s on the primitive side but very out of the way.”

“What about money?”

“I got some before I left Houston. Don’t worry, I won’t be using any ATMs or credit cards along the way.”

“I’m afraid that I’ve ruined your life.”

Joe propped himself up on an elbow. “I walked into this with my eyes wide open,” he said.

“Not really. You didn’t bargain for a baby or for the scope of the mess I’ve gotten myself into.”

He didn’t say anything for a time then he stretched out again, his hands behind his head. “There’s a way out of this, Jamie. We just have to figure out what it is.”

“I hope so. I wouldn’t have gotten you involved if it weren’t for Billy,” she confessed. And felt better for saying the words.

“You really love him a lot, don’t you?”

“Yeah. I do.”

She closed her eyes and dozed for a time. She woke when he put his hand on her shoulder. “Time to go,” he said, handing her a bottle of water.

She touched his cheek. He moved his face so that his lips were touching her fingers. It was a sweet moment, one that filled her heart with hope.

By midafternoon, she could smell the ocean.

The cabin was one of a dozen or so scattered along a low bluff and overlooking a series of dunes and the cobalt-blue gulf beyond. They both stood for a minute to take in the view before Joe put the key in the lock.

Jamie noted the rough siding on the walls, faded linoleum on the floor, and iron bedstead covered with a lumpy comforter. The kitchen had an ancient refrigerator, a galvanized-steel sink, and was equipped with mismatched dishes and dented cooking utensils. The back porch overlooked the ocean. “It’s perfect,” she said.

“Will you be okay here by yourself while I go buy some groceries?”

She nodded.

She wasn’t really okay, though. As nice as it would be to sit on the back porch while she fed Billy, she locked herself inside and got a butcher knife from the kitchen before curling up in the bed with him. Then she closed her eyes and prayed. “Please, let this turn out all right. Please.”

When Billy drifted off to sleep, she closed her eyes and slept for a time, awaking when she heard the motorcycle approach. Joe parked behind the cabin, where the bike would be hidden from the road. Judging by the sun, it was already late afternoon. He must have had a hard time finding a grocery store.

Billy was still sleeping soundly. She left him on the bed and hurried out back to help carry in the groceries.

The saddlebags were overflowing, and a cardboard box was tied to the back of the motorcycle. Apparently their stay here was to be more than a one-night stand. Jamie was glad.

Together they put the groceries away. He had done a good job. In addition to several days’ worth of food, he had bought her two scooped-neck T-shirts, one a rosy pink and the other a black-and-white stripe, a couple of pairs of knit shorts, and a set of navy sweats. When she pulled a package of women’s underpants and a nursing bra out of the sack, Joe blushed. “The saleswoman had me watch the women walking by and point out one who was about your size.”

And there was more-baby shirts, pajamas, and receiving blankets, and a baby rattle. Another sack held a big bottle of sunscreen and some toilet articles for Jamie. “I asked for the essentials,” Joe explained. “I told the saleswoman that my girlfriend’s luggage had gotten lost.”