Free Shadow of Doubt (An SBG Novel Book 2) by P. A. DePaul

cash.”
    “I promise I’ll hand it to you when I see you later.”
    His disturbing chuckle had her stomach knotting.
“I
can’t wait
until six.”
    She just bet he couldn’t.
    “Give it a minute, then you’re good.”
    She tossed the handset down.
    She shook her whole body, trying to exorcise the heebs the oily-haired, twentysomething guy inspired. “I need to get out of here.”
    On that note, she picked the handset back up and dialed nine, and the normal ringtone filled the earpiece.
    “Please work.” Her nerves couldn’t take trying a third time.
    She pressed one, then the ten-digit number from the paper and held her breath.
    ***
    The computer-generated female voice instructed Cappy and Talon, turn-by-turn, from the docking station he’d plugged his phone into. The farther they traveled on Route I-465/I-74, the more rural the landscape. He liked that about Indianapolis; it might be a big city, but it never felt that way.
    “You going to fill me in on what the hell is going on?” Talon asked in the silence, shattering the small respite Cappy had found from his churning emotions.
    Cappy’s phone flashed, and the screen turned black with a phone number scrolling across the front. He glanced at the display and his blood ran cold. Only one person left had knowledge of the phone number he now had forwarded to this cell phone.
    Talon leaned forward. “Three-one-seven area code. Isn’t that around here?”
    Cappy snatched the phone off the dock. “Pull over.”
    Talon raised an eyebrow, but eased the car onto the wide shoulder, underneath an EMERGENCY STOPPING ONLY sign.
    “Hello,” Cappy answered, his stomach flipping.
    A breath hitched.
    His heart thundered. With every fiber of his being he just
knew
who was on the other end. “Hold on.”
    Cappy flung his door open and pushed out of the car. He covered the mouthpiece and whispered to Talon, “Be right back.”
    Cappy ignored his teammate’s blatant non-verbal demand for an explanation. As commander of this team, he did
not
have to answer to Talon.
    Cars whizzed by and the heavy thrum from a semi’s passing made it hard for him to hear, so he strode to the guardrail and placed a hand over his free ear. A light, crisp breeze hit him, raising the goose bumps on his arms further.
    “Michelle,” he said softly so as not to scare her off the phone.
    Her breath hitched again. Then the voice haunting him for years murmured,
“Jeremy.”
    His stomach fluttered like a damn schoolboy, and he closed his eyes to savor it.
    “You
are
alive.”
Before he could react, she asked in a louder voice,
“How did you know it was me?”
    “Not many people have this number. I can’t imagine it would be one of them since most of them are dead.”
    Pause.
“Oh.”
    Way to go, moron. Real smooth. Now she really wants to open up. “Sorry,” he said gruffly. “That sounded better in my head.”
    She chuckled thinly, then audibly swallowed.
“I, ah, didn’t think you’d remember me.”
    Was she kidding?
    “Or this phone number would even work,”
she continued.
    He stayed silent, unsure of the correct response. Part of his brain tapped danced knowing she had kept his note all these years. The other part wondered what that meant.
    “I, ah . . . I need your help.”
    A truck hauling construction equipment roared by, followed by a car blasting its horn.
Damn traffic. Just follow the goddamn rules and stay in one lane
. He turned away and jammed his finger harder against his free ear.
    “Where are you?”
The anxiety in her voice ramped up.
    “Side of the highway. Traffic’s going by.”
    “Did I interrupt something?”
    “No, no. I just didn’t want to talk and drive. Go ahead. I’m listening.”
    She cleared her throat.
“I don’t know if you can get leave or not but you said you’d come running if I needed help.”
Long pause. Deep breath.
“I’m calling because I hope that offer still stands.”
    “Where are you?”
    “In a piece of crap motel at the