15

  Bear didn’t have a safehouse in Chicago. They’d have to rely on a seedy hotel. He didn’t bother going back to the one he was in last night. Better not to double dip when you’re fugitives from the law.

  Sometimes Bear couldn’t help but be amazed at how many times he’d been on the run. They said it took ten thousand hours to master something. Bear wondered how close he was to that number.

  They dumped the car on the outskirts of the city and hopped on the train. Bear’s coat was long enough that it covered Cara’s bloody hands and knees. They got a few strange looks, but this was Chicago. There were a bunch of weirdos on the train. He and Cara were probably the most normal out of all of them.

  When the Red Line hit the Loop, Cara looked over at Bear, as if expecting for him to get up and off the train. He kept his eyes forward. This area would be easier to disappear in, but it would also be harder to catch any tails they might have.

  And Bear wanted to know if they were being watched.

  Instead, he waited a few more stops and got off at a random platform just outside downtown Chicago. It’d be easier to find a shitty motel out here anyway. Everything in the middle of the city would be high-profile, and that was the last thing they needed right now.

  When their feet hit the pavement and Bear headed North, Cara had to jog to catch up. She was silent for only a moment before she asked the inevitable.

  “When can we go back to my apartment?”

  “We can’t.”

  Her steps faltered and she struggled to catch up to Bear’s pace again. “What do you mean we can’t? Everything I have is there. Notes, everything.”

  “It’s gone. Just accept it.”

  Cara grabbed Bear’s arm to try to get him to slow down, but it didn’t have any affect. “We have to—”

  Bear came to an abrupt halt and Cara nearly tripped over her own feet. He turned on her, trying to control his anger, his frustration, his hopelessness about this entire situation.

  “They know who we are. The first thing they’re going to do is go to your apartment. They’re probably already there. Any information you have is gone. All we have is what you decided to write down in the notebook you gave me.”

  Cara lifted an eyebrow at him. “What do you mean what I decided to tell you?”

  “Ever heard of a guy named Waller?”

  She had the audacity to look sheepish. “Mateo’s friend.” Her eyes grew wide. “Oh God. We have to tell him. We have to warn him.”

  “Don’t bother.” Bear started walking again. “He’s already dead.”

  “What? How?” There was a small pause. “Did you kill him?”

  Bear laughed. “No. Someone got to him before I did. But now you’re thinking smart. Don’t trust anyone.”

  “Who killed him?”

  “No idea,” Bear said. “They were just a couple of junkie ex-soldiers. But whoever sent them probably also sent the person who killed Mateo.”

  “Hughes?”

  “Maybe,” Bear said. “Or he could have a lackey who does his dirty work for him.”

  “Plausible deniability.”

  “Bingo. Another point to Team Bishop.” Bear heard Cara open her mouth to retort, but he didn’t give her a chance. “What I can’t figure out is why you didn’t mention him at all.”

  “A girl’s gotta have her secrets.”

  Bear shot her a look. “Keeping secrets from me is not a good idea. Not if you want to survive this.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  He laughed. “No. I have no interest in killing you, Ms. Bishop. In fact, I’ve gone to great lengths to keep you alive. And somehow you keep throwing yourself in the line of danger.”

  “It’s part of the job,” she said.

  “It’s stupid.”

  There was a momentary break in conversation. Bear kept his strides long and his pace unrelenting. Cara was always a step or two behind him, but close enough that if something went wrong, he’d be able to pull her out of harm’s way.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about Waller?” he asked.

  “My source told me not to.”

  “Ah, your infamous source.” Any frustration that had left Bear thanks to the brisk walk had flooded right back into him. “Who is that again? I forget.”

  “Nice try.”

  “Your number was in his phone,” Bear said. “Waller’s, I mean. Rookie move. If someone else had found his cell, they’d be able to trace it right back to you.”

  “Guess it doesn’t really matter now,” Cara said, a hint of despondency in her voice. “My face is all over the news.”

  Bear bit his tongue to keep him from telling her that she wouldn’t be in this situation if she had just listened to him in the first place. But there was no point in beating a dead horse, no matter how good it made him feel.

  The rest of the walk was continued in silence. Bear lost track of how long they had been walking. His brain was only capable of two things: keeping an eye on their surroundings and moving constantly forward.

  He only allowed himself to slow down once he spotted a cheap motel in the distance. They stuck to the shadows, and Bear watched the parking lot for a few minutes. Not a lot of traffic. It looked like only two of the bedrooms facing the main road were lit up. That didn’t mean more weren’t occupied, but it certainly boded well that this was a quiet place to hunker down for the night.

  Bear looked over at Cara. She was still wearing his jacket, which completely engulfed her small frame. It hung low enough that her bloody knees were barely visible. Her hands were still slightly pink, but no one would be able to guess it was blood. He was in a better state than she was, but he was also a lot more recognizable.

  “You have a hair tie?”

  Cara looked up at him with a strange look on her face. “Yeah, why? You want to braid your beard?”

  He chuckled humorlessly and pulled a wad of cash out of his pocket. “Tie your hair back, then go in there and get us a room. Two beds.”

  “Obviously.”

  He ignored her comment. “And make sure it’s near one of the exits.”

  “How am I supposed to say that without sounding suspicious?”

  It was almost cute how bad she was at this. Almost. “We’re here because no one will be suspicious. You think that’s the weirdest thing anyone has ever requested?”

  “Fair enough.”

  Cara took the money and put her hair up in a messy bun. She adjusted the coat so it covered as much of her clothes as possible and then strode out of the shadows, across the parking lot, and through the front door of the motel.

  For a brief moment, Bear worried that she might cut and run. But then he remembered that she didn’t have anywhere else to go. Besides, she’d be digging her own grave.

  Worse comes to worst, he’d be losing sixty bucks and maybe a few minutes of sleep.

  16

  Cara did not, in fact, choose to cut and run. Instead, she walked back out of the lobby and waved a pair of keycards in his direction. She at least had the wherewithal to circle the building and go in the back entrance where they wouldn’t be seen together. Looked like Ms. Bishop was a quicker study than he gave her credit for.

  She had also landed a room right next to the exit. A pair of twin beds, a simple TV, and a small bathroom greeted them when she unlocked the door. The carpet was dark with age and dirt, the wallpaper was peeling, and there was a strange funk in the air.

  But it didn’t matter. They had a couple of beds and a relatively safe place to sleep for the night.

  Bear made a beeline for the TV remote and flipped on the news. He wasn’t looking forward to what he would find there, but he knew he had to stay on top of this before it got even more out of control.

  For her part, Cara sank down on the edge of her bed and twisted the ends of her hair between her fingers. She stared at the screen with wide eyes, tears gathering in the corners. She was steadier than she had been earlier in the day, but Bear could tell she was still processing the whole situation.

  Meanwhile, he was already planning four steps ahead. Getting out of the city would be ideal, but he knew he couldn’t go far. Waller and Mateo had died here, which meant there could be something else in Chicago waiting to be uncovered.

  Bear wracked his brain for who he could reach out to. So many of his contacts lived in the shadows, and right now his face was plastered all over national television. On the bright side, no one was talking about the bombings in Germany right now. On the other hand, the whole country knew his name and face. Clearing this up was going to be a bitch.

  From his right, Bear heard Cara groan. “My career is over.”

  Bear tried to keep the rage from bursting out of him, but it was too much to keep inside. He stood up so quickly, Cara gasped and scooted across the bed to the far corner. She looked up at him with fear in her eyes, and the only thing he could think was, Finally, you’re scared enough.

  “Your career?” he said. “Our lives are over. You get that, right?”

  Cara sputtered, but he didn’t let her talk. Instead, he pointed at the TV. It took all his self-control not to throw the remote at the screen in the hopes of shattering it and ridding them of the unfortunate circumstances they found themselves in.

  “Our lives are over,” he repeated. “You get that, right? What the hell was Jack thinking, setting me up with a kid who cares more about her career than her own goddamn life?”

  “How dare you,” Cara said, regaining her composure. “How dare you even pretend to know anything about me. Do I care about my career? Of course I do! I’ve spent most of my life building toward this moment. To win awards and recognition? No. To help people. What have you done? Huh?”

  “A hell of a lot more than you. You’re a child begging to sit at the big kid’s table. Well, this is what happens. You went and fucked the whole thing up.”

  “Me?” Cara’s voice was shrill now. “I probably saved your life!”

  Bear laughed. He couldn’t help it. The cackle just burst forth from his chest, uninhibited. “How the hell do you figure?”

  “If you had gone in there first, you’d probably be dead. Did that little fact ever occur to you between constantly ridiculing and berating me?”

  It had occurred to him, but he wasn’t going to give her even a single win. “And what about you, huh? How did you manage to survive? You should’ve been as dead as Mateo. Why aren’t you?”

  Cara either didn’t have an answer or refused to give the one she did have. Her silence rang throughout the room. Bear waved it off.

  “I’m going out. Stay, or leave. I don’t care.”

  Bear didn’t bother looking for her reaction. He spun on his heel, wrenched the door open, and slammed it shut behind him. The cool air did little to affect his core temperature, which was burning with the heat of his anger.

  Bear struck out in a random direction and walked with his head high, not caring if anyone saw him. It had only been a few hours since Mateo’s death, which meant it wasn’t even noon. The sun was high and the sky was clear. He’d be an easy target for anyone who recognized his face.

  He didn’t care.

  He found himself hoping someone would start something. At the very least, it would give him a change of clothes. At most, it would let him work off a little steam. This whole situation had gotten away from him and he wasn’t sure how he’d be able to get back out from under it.

  After about half a mile, Bear’s blood pressure started to ease. His heartbeat slowed. The anger flushed from his system. He was acutely aware of the people who gave him a double-take. It’s not like that didn’t normally happen, but now there was a chance they might have recognized his face and were trying to figure out where they knew him from.

  Bear slipped into an alley and stuck to the shadows. Things were bad enough. He didn’t need to get caught doing something stupid like starting a fight in broad daylight. He needed a plan, and he needed one fast.

  He knew he could get to Canada and survive in the wilderness for a while. No one would be able to find him, but his life as he knew it would be over. He’d have to find a way to reach out to Jack and get both their names cleared, but with Jack on the run just as much—if not more than—Bear, it was unlikely they’d be able to link up again anytime soon.

  Besides, Jack was counting on him. He couldn’t drop the ball now, not when they were closer than they’d ever been.

  Bear reached for the papers he had grabbed from Waller’s home and realized they were in the pocket of the jacket he had let Cara wear. He patted down the back pocket of his jeans and realized he still had her notebook, though it paled in comparison to the designs for the bomb. That was going to be the best way to link what Waller and Mateo had been working on with whatever Hughes had in mind.

  Without the blueprint, his investigation was dead in the water. They wouldn’t get another opportunity like that, not now that both men were dead.

  Bear noticed a beat-up car from his hiding spot in the alley. It would be so easy to steal it and make a getaway. He could disappear off the radar so much easier without Cara Bishop in tow. She’d get pinched sooner rather than later, but what did he care? She’d probably be safer in jail.

  Except maybe not. According to the guy Bear had left tied to the bed in Waller’s house, the cops were not to be trusted. That wasn’t exactly new territory for Bear. But even if Cara managed to stay clear of the authorities, she was right—her career was over. Mateo’s throng of ravenous fans would make sure of that.

  What would all those conspiracy theorists do if they realized they had been right all along?

  Bear was seriously contemplating pushing off from the alley wall and stealing that car when a thought struck him. Mateo had been terrified. Even before Bear had told him that Waller had died, he’d been afraid for his friend’s life. He’d been afraid for his own.

  He had been getting cold feet.

  When Mateo had agreed to meet with Bear, he was getting ready to back out. He had agreed to the meeting because Bear had been his only hope of getting out of a situation of his own making. What if Mateo had already been on a hit list, and his meeting with Bear had been the opportunity they had needed all along?

  Either Mateo hadn’t wanted to start Word War III or he had gotten wind of the plan’s true motive and tried to pull out. One way or another, it led to his death. Hughes had been having private meetings with Mateo for the last year. He would’ve been privy to the eccentric billionaire’s change of heart.

  It always came back to Hughes.

  If nothing else, Cara Bishop had a source she was willing to do anything to protect. If her informant wasn’t someone huge, she would’ve given up their name a long time ago. For the first time, Bear gave Cara the benefit of the doubt. Maybe she really did know what she was doing.

  One way or another, he had to figure out who her source was.

  It was time to play ball.

  17

  Bear made his way back to the hotel, doing a much better job of keeping his head down. It was mid-afternoon by this time, which meant traffic was starting to pick up. Soon, there’d be people everywhere, and he’d no doubt run into someone who was looking to be a hero.

  When he got back to the hotel, Bear did a perimeter check and noted which cars in the parking lot had been there before and which had been swapped out. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, but he wasn’t willing to take any more chances than he already had. They’d stay here for a single night and then move on.

  To where, he didn’t know.

  When Bear inserted the keycard into the door and walked back into the room, he was only mildly surprised that Cara was nowhere to be found. His last words to her weren’t exactly kind, and he didn’t blame her for not wanting to stick it out with a guy as volatile as he’d been over the last few hours.

  He was even less surprised to realize that she had taken his jacket with her. He hadn’t told her about the blueprint for the bomb, but she’d find it sooner rather than later and start putting two and two together. What would she do with that information? Probably something reckless.

  Bear felt a pinch in his chest. She drove him crazy the way she ran head-first into situations, but he never wanted her to get killed. Maybe roughed up a bit so some sense would be knocked into her. But he never once wished she was dead.

  There was no way she’d survive out there without him. She was smart, sure, but she’d take too many risks trying to pin down the rest of the story. One way or another, she’d get caught. What would happen then? Would the police smear her pictures all over the news and come up with some story about how she’s a deranged individual? Or would she just disappear under a black hood, never to be heard from again?

  Did she have any family? Would anyone miss her?

  Bear pulled out the burner phone he had picked up and stared down at it. There were a couple people he could call who’d be able to help track her down, but every single one of their numbers could be traced. It’d take too long to find a way to get through to them without alerting everyone who had their eyes on him.

  Right as he was about to ignore all his instincts, the door clicked open and Cara walked in carrying a shopping bag in each hand. Her hair was wet and she looked cleaner than when he had left. Looked like she had taken advantage of the shower while he was away.

  She gave him a wry smile, but he caught the relief in her eyes.

  “I knew you’d be back.”

  “And I knew you wouldn’t leave.” He nodded toward the bag. “What’d you get?”

  “A couple sandwiches, a beanie, a new pair of pants, and this.” She pulled out shaving cream and a razor.

  “What’s that for?” he asked.

  “It’s for you.” She laughed. “You need to shave that mess off your face if we’re going to get out of town.”

  Bear instinctively touched a hand to his face. “Not a chance.”

  Cara rolled her eyes and dumped the contents of the bag on one of the beds. “You’re the expert.”

  Bear grabbed for one of the sandwiches and unwrapped it, eyeing Cara in the process. “You seem different.”