Janie Crouch - Leverage

Dylan made his way around the back of the motel, keeping away from the lights. He silently walked along the line of trees until he was right behind Shelby’s room. No lights were on in the rooms on either side of her, which was good. Shelby had pulled the curtain closed, so only a tiny bit of light cracked through the glass door. Dylan approached the door and tapped on it softly.

“Shelby.” Dylan put his mouth almost up to the door. He didn’t want his voice to carry. He could see the shadow of movement in the room, but couldn’t tell if Shelby could hear him. He tapped again, a little louder.

The curtain inched back and Shelby peeked out, but Dylan could tell she still couldn’t see him from where he was in the shadows. He tapped again right where she was looking and brought his face close to the window.

Her short shriek made Dylan thankful there wasn’t anyone in the rooms next to hers. The curtain flew back down, but Dylan heard the unlocking of the door a moment later.

“You scared the pants off me,” Shelby hissed. She had a towel wrapped around her neck, drying rain out of her long red hair. It looked even more red against the white of the cloth.

“Sorry.”

“What are you doing here? And why are you at the back door? Why didn’t you use the front?”

Dylan put a finger up to his lips. He didn’t want her to announce to everyone he was here. “I’m trying to talk with you without anyone knowing I’m here. Do you mind if I come in?”

At least she didn’t hesitate as she opened the door farther and stepped back, which surprised Dylan a little bit. He wouldn’t have been surprised if he had to plead his case from a cracked door after how he’d acted. He walked in and slid the door closed behind him, pulling the curtain to give them privacy from any possible prying eyes.

“Come back because you found just the right words to let me know how you don’t like me?” Shelby stood, arms folded and eyebrow raised, by one of the beds in the room.

Dylan winced. He supposed he deserved that, at least a little.

“I’m sorry about before.”

If anything, Shelby’s eyebrow arched even higher. She didn’t say anything.

“Listen, I was going to leave you alone here, let you get some rest, go home and do the same myself before we leave in a couple hours. But the fact is, someone tried to kill you tonight.”

Shelby looked shocked then sat down on the bed and began smoothing her wet hair with the towel almost absently. “First of all, thanks for saving my life. But me almost dying and someone trying to kill me are two different things, Dylan.”

“I know. I don’t use the terms interchangeably.” Dylan took a step closer, more to keep his shadow away from the curtain than anything else. But his action drew her attention. She stood and began walking farther away without a word, turning her back to him.

Dylan sighed. He guessed he deserved that, too.

But instead of taking the plastic chair at the farthest point away from him in the room, as Dylan thought she was going to do, Shelby walked into the bathroom and came back out with another towel a moment later. She tossed it to him and sat back down on the bed.

“You look as miserable as I feel. Maybe that will help dry you off enough so that you’re at least not dripping.”

Dylan began to towel off his face and hair. “Thanks.”

“Don’t look so surprised. I’m not a she devil, you know.”

“I never thought you were.”

Her eyebrow rose again.

Dylan changed the subject. “That guy tonight wasn’t a drunk driver who got sloppy. That car was someone coming at you with the specific intention of running you down.”

Shelby stopped drying her hair and clutched the towel to her like a security blanket. Her green eyes were huge in her pale face. “Do you really think that’s true?”

“Well, let me ask you this. Do you remember anything about the car that almost ran you off the road earlier today while you were driving up here?”

Shelby shrugged. “Not too much. I’m good with remembering numbers, but not much of anything else.”

Dylan didn’t want to just feed an image into her mind. He wanted to see if he could help her remember. “Was it a light or dark color, or maybe a specific color you remember, like red or yellow?”

“No, definitely not a bright color. It was dark, maybe black or gray. I can’t really recall.”

“That’s okay.” Dylan sat down on the bed across from hers. “Is there anything you can remember about the model of the vehicle? Maybe it was an SUV or a noticeable brand of car, like a VW or a Jeep?”

“No, I don’t know anything about cars. But it wasn’t anything like that. I just remember thinking it was an old person’s car. That maybe it was some old person who shouldn’t be driving at all if he or she was going to run people off the road.”

“Okay, an old person’s car.” That was the info Dylan had been hoping for. “A sedan.”

“Yeah, a sedan.” Shelby nodded. “But I don’t know what make or anything.”

“That’s okay, you don’t have to. But I think you might find it interesting that the car that tried to run you down tonight was also a dark sedan. Someone has tried to kill you today. Twice. Both in ways that would seem like an accident.”

Shelby bounded off the bed. The towel was still clutched in front of her. “What am I going to do?”

“I don’t think it’s safe for you to stay here tonight in case that person tries to come back and finish what he started. It would be too easy to find you.”

Shelby nodded almost blankly.

“I know you were pretty resistant to this idea before, but I think you should come back to my house. Nobody would know you’re there and we’ll leave in the plane as soon as possible. It’s not safe for you to be alone anymore.”

Chapter Six

Shelby could hear what Dylan was saying, but it was as if she was processing it too slowly to make sense. Someone was trying to kill her? On purpose?

The whole concept was pretty foreign. And Dylan was afraid someone would find her here at the motel?

“How would they find me here?” she asked.

“It’s the only motel in all of Falls Run. If you assumed that what happened earlier was only an accident, you’d probably check in here, get some rest. If I was a killer, I’d look here first.”

Shelby walked over by the curtains. She wanted to peek out, to open the door and see if the boogeyman was on the porch ready to attack them, but knew she couldn’t.

Was Dylan right? Could someone actually be trying to kill her? They were dealing with DS-13, which Megan assured Shelby was definitely a group to take seriously. Shelby had the codes in her head and knew the numbers were some sort of countdown. But she had no idea what they were counting down to; that’s where Megan’s computer decryption program came in. Shelby and Megan’s computer program had to be in the same room together so Shelby could feed in the data and eliminate what wasn’t necessary. Only Shelby could do that. And once she did, they’d be able to figure out the what and the where the countdown referred to.

Were the numbers in her head worth someone killing her for? She didn’t want to think so, but the aches and bruises from her close encounter with a speeding car—which did look a lot like the one she’d seen earlier today, now that Dylan mentioned it—told her otherwise. So, yeah, maybe someone was trying to kill her.

Yet another reason why she should have just stayed home.

At least Dylan didn’t seem so irritated by her very existence anymore. He wasn’t the sexy, flirty Dylan he’d been a few hours ago, but at least he wasn’t yelling at her. She didn’t necessarily want to go back to his house with him, but neither did she want to stay here with a possible attacker. Uncomfortable was definitely better than dead.