Free In Plain Sight by Fern Michaels Page B

mind racing a hundred miles a minute. What to say, what not to say, how to look, how not to look. Stop sweating, he cautioned himself. Like that was possible.
    Stacey Copeland eyeballed her friend, concern etched on her face. “You look funny, Jason, is anything wrong? By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask, did you register yet for fall classes? I was thinking of going over to CU after I got off work. Want a ride?”
    “I’m okay. Haven’t been sleeping well these past few nights. Our A/C is out,” he lied with a straight face. “I’m working till four. That’s if I hold out that long. My stomach is kicking up. I might leave in a little while. I need the hours, but if I’m going to be puking my guts out, I’m no good to anyone here.”
    Stacey gave him a look that said she wasn’t buying anything he’d said. “Hey, Jason, this is me. We’ve been friends since our first day at CU. You can talk to me. I even got you this job. If something is wrong, maybe I can help. C’mon, Jason, open up.”
    “You sound just like my mother does. I told you, nothing is wrong. I’m not feeling 100 percent, so ease up, okay?”
    “Sure, no problem. You’d tell me if Emily dumped you, right?”
    “Emily did not dump me,” Jason said through clenched teeth. “I told you, we’re just friends.”
    “Ha-ha, yourself, Jason. That’s not what Emily told me. She told me you two are more than best buds. A lot more,” she fibbed, hoping to get a rise out of Jason. “Don’t you dare hurt my friend, Jason. If you do, you’ll have to deal with me. I’m going out to her house before I go to CU and see what’s wrong. Put that in your pipe and smoke it, pal.
    “Just for the record, Jason, I hate it that you’re lying to me. I know when you’re lying because your left ear turns red, and it’s red as a beet right now. So there!”
    Jason watched as the tall redhead stomped out of the kitchen and back to the paint department. He finished his Coke and threw it in the trash bin. He hated it that he’d lied to Stacey. But in the scheme of things, what other choice did he have at the moment? None. He felt like crap.
    Back at the loading platform, Jason eyed the bales and bales of peat moss that still had to be unloaded. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the two women who had been eyeing the wilted petunias. They were on to the last of the flats of Gerbera daisies, which looked just as sorry as the petunias. The young guy had moved from the clay pots to the retractable hoses.
    They were on to him. He could feel it, sense it in every pore of his body.
    Jason swiped at his forehead again and walked over to where his boss was talking to a customer. He waited until the customer walked away. “Mr. Quincy, I’m afraid I have some kind of stomach bug. I have to leave. I’m sorry if I’m leaving you shorthanded, but I’m about to pass out here.”
    “Sure, Jason, go on home. Take off tomorrow if you’re not better. We can manage. Take care of yourself. Don’t forget to punch out.”
    “Thanks, Mr. Quincy. I appreciate it.”
    There was no way to get out of the gardening department without passing the two women and the guy checking out the hoses. Where did he screw up? What had he done wrong? Were they following him? How in the hell did they find him to begin with? He didn’t have to pretend to be sick. He was sick now. He had to call the girls, but he’d given them his cell phone since they were afraid to use their own. He hadn’t had time to get a new one. Well, shit, there was a phone in the kitchen. He could call his cell from there. Whoever was following him didn’t have access to the kitchen. He could punch out and leave by the back entrance that a lot of the employees used. He had to act normal, do things the way he always did them. Shit, shit, shit. This spook stuff was not something he was good at. And from where he was standing, it didn’t look like he’d get any better at it anytime soon.
    Jason looked