Collision Course

Chapter 2

Headlights loomed in his rear view mirror and his heart rate sped up. He made a quick left at the next corner and the car behind him turned also. Jesus! Had they found out already he'd answered the forbidden phone? Trey forced himself to take a deep breath and quit letting his imagination run away with itself.

Easier said than done. Bennett didn't know about the call yet but how soon before he heard from the man who had initiated it? And what if he had some way of recording anything incoming? How fast would they begin to search for him?

Jesus, you i***t. Don't panic.

Oh, yeah. Easier said than done.

It was hard not to freak out when the message kept replaying in his mind. What he'd heard meant nothing good. Nothing legal.

Shipments to pay for. The cartel.

Would Bennett come to Trey's house even before daybreak? Call him? Wait until he came to work the next morning? He had a hard time reconciling a man who appeared affable and friendly to the world, a confidante of presidents and kings who treated Trey like a son, with one who would be mixed up in something as nasty as drugs and illegal arms. And who knew what else?

A shiver snaked down his spine at the scenarios running through his head.

Yes, making himself scarce while he tried to dig up information appeared to be his only solution. Oh, right. He was a businessman, for god's sake. What did he know about running and hiding? He felt as if he'd fallen into a bad movie. Still, his instincts warned him get the hell out of town until he had some ammunition to protect himself. How long he had to be gone depended on what he found out and how fast he could get the information to the right people. That meant having cash to exist on, and he couldn't access what he'd need until morning. Would he be safe until then?

At the next corner, he made a quick left and breathed a small sigh of relief when the car in his rear view stayed on the other street.

Rain had started falling harder and as Trey listened to the swish swish swish of the windshield wipers, the circumstances of his predecessor's death smacked him in the brain. Gary Holland had been shot during a home invasion. His security system compromised, many of his paintings and other valuables were gone. Now Trey had to wonder if what employees were told was even the real story, or just a cover up. Had he gotten too close to some of Bennett's activities?

He checked the dashboard clock. Two forty-five. If Bennett landed at four-thirty, he'd be at the office by five-thirty. Say he checked the phone no later than six. A small window of time to work with. Trey had to move fast and keep his head down. And get the hell out of the city.

Swish swish swish.

The wipers seemed to keep time with the accelerated rhythm of his heartbeat.

He was off the interstate and out of the city, driving through one of the more rural residential areas on the outskirts of Des Moines. When he'd bought his home, he'd liked the fact his neighbors weren't so close, with a lot of trees separating the houses. Now he realized how he'd isolated himself. Driving down the darkened roads, he checked the rear view mirror again. No one behind him. No one had left the highway and followed him. Good.

Breathing a small sigh of relief, he turned into his driveway and pulled into the garage. He waited a good fifteen minutes, his body so tense his muscles ached, listening for any noise on the street, although at three in the morning he didn't expect much traffic. Satisfied nothing suspicious jumped out at him, he got out of the car.

Inside the house, he stopped for a moment, let out a slow breath and tried to decide what to do. Nothing in Trey's life had quite prepared him for the situation in which he found himself. Adrenaline and fear coursed through him, his brain rapidly sorting options.

He needed to get to someplace safe, although he had no idea where such a place would be. Credit cards left a paper trail, so he had to pull money out of his account. A lot of it. More than he could get from an ATM, and the bank didn't open until nine. He hoped he'd still be ahead of whoever they sent after him by then.

He took a moment to check out the listings for branches of his bank online and found one at the eastern edge of Des Moines. Way off his usual path. He doubted Bennett would be checking there for him, unless the man had enough of an army to cover every location. Of course, anything was possible. He'd be there the minute the bank opened, run in, get his money and get the hell out.

Okay, take a deep breath.

With a small amount of cash in his wallet, his next priority was finding a place to stash himself and get a few hours sleep. Get over to the east side, find a cheap motel not far from the bank and hole up until morning. Once he'd taken care of business he'd dump his car and buy another one for cash. Then he'd get the hell out of Dodge, disappear until he found what he needed and figured out what to do with it.

He dug into the back of the closet for his Glock .9mm. Bought a few years ago, because he lived outside the city limits in a rural residential area, he'd spent a lot of hours on the range developing his proficiency with the weapon. He'd never been more grateful for it. Shoving it into a duffel with as many clothes and personal items as he could fit, he tossed the bag into his car with his laptop. Deliberately he left his cell phone on his nightstand, knowing if he turned it on he could be easily tracked. He'd get a prepaid one first chance he had. He also didn't want to take too much with him. If Bennett came after him, which Trey was positive would happen, he didn't want the house to give the appearance he'd run. Even though that's what he was doing. Let them chase their tails trying to locate him in the city.

He took one last look around before heading back to the garage.

Backing out and heading down the street, he gripped the steering wheel, tense as a high wire. Logic told him Bennett hadn't had time yet to find out what happened but it didn't soothe his nerves any. He made one stop as he drove through the city, at an all-night Wal-Mart to buy a "burner" phone. For emergencies. He for sure couldn't call anyone he knew.

He didn't draw a full breath until he found a motel way out on the east side of the city and checked in. Apparently luck perched on his shoulder because they had a room on the side away from the road where his car wouldn't be seen. They also had Internet, an unexpected bonus, which meant he could get to work right away. Locking the door and putting the chain in place, he then closed the drapes and opened his laptop. The light from the screen was the only illumination in the room.

He opened the portal to the BGE system in no time, but when he tried to access the Funda file, it locked him out again. He wondered for a moment why Bennett hadn't had the Eyes Only files set up on a separate server. Then it occurred to him the man might be infusing the account with whatever money came from illegal activities to increase the net worth of the conglomerate. Giving himself sole access to the file, made it much easier for him to manipulate the account.

Okay, time to see what he remembered after all these years.