Free All the Way by Kimberley White

crinkling her brow by lightening his tone. “You owe me a story, remember?”
    â€œAren’t you afraid I’ll run away?”
    He paused at the door. “You have no clothes, money, or transportation. And you need my help. I’m not afraid you’ll leave.”
    Adriano took the time to remove the logos from the SUV’s exterior before he filled the Land Cruiser with gas and asked directions to the nearest town. The damage to the rear bumper would cause the truck to stand out if someone knew what they were looking for, but the Chicago City logos were a dead giveaway. A short drive later, he found a small town with a bank, restaurant, gas station, and general store.
    The healthy woman behind the counter at the general store watched him suspiciously as he wandered through the women’s clothing department. She kept one hand behind the counter—probably on her shotgun—at all times. He quickly remembered he was in the South, not urban Chicago. Here, black men still disappeared in broad daylight. He treaded lightly through the women’s department searching for suitable clothes for Payton. A young girl came from the back of the store and asked if he needed help.
    â€œI need clothes for a woman about this big and this tall.” He used his hands to measure out Payton’s height and width.
    Amused, the young girl began to flip through the clothing rack. “What are you looking for?”
    â€œJeans, T-shirt, jacket. And underwear. Oh yeah, shoes.”
    The girl nodded.
    â€œSomething to do her hair and shower with too.”
    â€œOkay, sir,” she acknowledged with a southern drawl.
    After paying for the motel and buying gas, his cash reserve was dangerously low. Mr. Conners would grumble about the expenses when he saw the credit-card bill. Until Adriano dropped the final draft of the exposé on his desktop.
    He moved through the store and found himself a shirt, slacks, and toiletries. He had missed their flight, but he flipped open his cell phone and tried Jake anyway.
    Jake sounded panicked. “What’s going on? I’ve been calling you all morning. I need to tell you about Payton Vaughn.”
    â€œRelax, man. She told me everything.” He cradled several bags of chips in his arms. “She’s giving us an exclusive. I’m going to get her to FBI headquarters, and she’s going to give me the story.” He followed the woman to the counter to pay for his purchases.
    â€œWhere are you? I’d like to be there. We’ve worked long and hard to get this story.”
    He pulled out his company credit card and handed it to the young woman. “I know, but you keep working on the informant, and I’ll get Payton’s interview. Anything on the FBI agent who attacked us at her place?”
    â€œI was right there when the police arrived. The man was gone and the place was clean. No signs of a struggle.”
    â€œNo blood? I hit him pretty good.”
    â€œNothing. If you ask me, the apartment was professionally cleaned, and those same professionals escorted our boy on a very long trip.”
    Adriano signed the charge slip.
    â€œWhat exactly did Payton tell you?” Jake wanted to know.
    â€œThanks,” Adriano told the young woman and grabbed his bags. As he loaded the SUV, he recounted Payton’s story for Jake and then headed across the street to order breakfast.
    â€œAdriano, for you to brag about knowing women as much as you do, you sure were fooled by this one.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?” He slipped into a booth to wait for his breakfast order.
    â€œMy informant told me last night that Payton Vaughn is a whole lot more than a manager to Grazicky.”
    The static on the phone obstructed Jake’s words. “Say again, Jake. My battery’s dying.” He’d left the charger in his suitcase back at the hotel in Charlotte.
    â€œAccording to my source, Grazicky is crazy about her. The