Free No Place to Hide by Lynette Eason

up her spine.

    7:00 A.M.
VIRGINIA
    By seven o’clock, Ian had let Gus out and proceeded to raid the pantry. He’d managed to find several bags of chips, every kind of canned bean known to man, a tin of crackers, a jar of Cheez Whiz, and a box of chocolate Pop-Tarts still within the expiration date.
    Jackie emerged from the back bedroom, freshly showered, dressed in the clothes she had worn yesterday—and looking entirely not like herself. He blinked. “Wow.” Jet black hair cut about three inches shorter had turned her into another person. “You did a good job.”
    “Your turn.” She handed him a box of hair dye.
    He grimaced. “Gray?”
    “The older you look, the better off you are. If you could develop a few wrinkles and lose a lot of muscles over the next little bit, we’d be in good shape.”
    A grin tugged the corners of his lips. “I’ll do my best.” She’d noticed his muscles. He felt downright silly at the pleasure he took in that. He gripped the box. “I was thinking.”
    “About?” She grabbed a Pop-Tart and took a bite of it. Cold.
    He grimaced. “Don’t you want to toast that?”
    She stopped chewing and looked at the pastry, then back at him. “And ruin a perfectly good Pop-Tart? Are you nuts?”
    “Definitely.” He sighed and dropped his chocolate rectangle into the toaster. Then he let Gus in and fed the dog the leftovermeat from the night before. With a full tummy, the animal seemed content and stretched out on the kitchen floor to watch them.
    “He’s really smart, isn’t he?” Jackie asked.
    “Scary smart.”
    Jackie leaned over and scratched Gus’s ears. The dog’s eyes dropped to half-mast. “So what were you thinking about?” she asked.
    “New York. And not just because I’m worried about Holly and Lucy, although they’re the top priority.”
    “Okay.” She finished the first pastry, grabbed a bag of chips, and hoisted herself up onto the counter. “And?”
    “Cedric Wainwright is in New York where his father started the company. But, Wainwright Labs has facilities in South Carolina, Atlanta, Chicago, Los Angeles, Montana, and Honolulu too.”
    She crunched a handful of chips. “But that might mean something. It might be a place to start.”
    “Maybe. Or NY could stand for nuclear yield or . . . or—”
    She held up a hand. “I get it. But unless you’re willing to take this to the cops, we’re kind of on our own here.”
    He stiffened. “No. No cops. I just can’t take that chance yet.” He hefted the box of hair color and nodded to her handful of chips. “Since when did you become such a junk foodie?”
    She frowned. “How dare you insult such yumminess?” He rolled his eyes and she smirked, then shrugged. “I’m not usually into junk food, just when I’m super stressed.” Her hand went back in the bag. “And if this situation lasts for more than a day or two, I’ll have to find something else to battle the stress.” She held up a chip and studied it. “Like running marathons.” She sighed and munched the chip, then closed the bag and brushed her hands on her jeans. “It’s all about control. I can quit any time.”
    “Promises the addict,” he said.
    She slid from the counter and made a shooing motion. “Go. I don’t know how much time we have before we’ll have to bolt. I don’t know how they would track us here, but we’re going to assume they can and be ready.”
    He shook his head, took the box of hair color, and slipped into the bathroom.
    Twenty minutes later, when he came out, Jackie gave a nod of approval. She had two bags packed and Gus’s leash snapped to his collar. The dog looked at him with mournful eyes. “He hates the leash.”
    Jackie reached down and scratched Gus’s ears. Ian interpreted the sudden blissful expression on the dog’s face to mean as long as Jackie kept scratching, the leash could stay on.
    “He’ll be all right,” she said, then frowned. “You know, we may have to leave him somewhere. He