“What’s going on?” he asked her.

“Get in the car, Captain Milton.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Let’s dispense with that, shall we? I’m sure you’d rather get away from here?”

“How do you know my name?”

“I’m not from the F.B.I., Captain Milton. You’re fortunate that you were arrested in a place like this. Somewhere they’d leave an officer like that to look after you. I’ve managed to pull the wool over his eyes, but it won’t stand up to scrutiny. It’d be better if we got moving.”

“How did you find me?”

“I’ll tell you later. I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

“No,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what you want.”

“Just to talk, Captain Milton. Get in the car, please.”

She took the key fob from her bag and blipped the door. She crossed the sidewalk and opened the driver’s side door. Milton paused, working out the angles. He looked out at Main Street, the cars rolling slowly by in either direction. There was a bar nearby, the sound of loud music and raucous, unfriendly hollering spilling out. It was a boiling hot evening: fighting weather. The place suddenly felt charged and hostile. The sheriff was still around, plus his boy. He didn’t know what Delaney had pulled to get him out, but he didn’t doubt that if he stayed and ran across the Manziels there would be nothing to prevent them from settling the scores. If they found out that he had been freed by deception, they would come after him. It would be even worse.

He would have to leave. He would walk back to his hotel, collect his things and catch the first Greyhound out of town. Or he could go straight to Hertz, hire a car and drive himself away. He would do that. The girl was intriguing, but he hadn’t lasted as long as he had by trusting good-looking women he had never met before.

“Thanks for your help. I’ll take my chances.”

She shook her head. “I know about the Group, Captain Milton. I know how close they were to catching up with you in Mexico.”

He fought to maintain a nonchalant front. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“There are some things you need to know. You should know that they’re already in the country. There are four of them. They flew out of RAF Northolt last night and landed in Houston an hour ago. They’re driving here now. The last I heard, they were in Ganado. That’s not far. They’ll be here in thirty minutes. How far do you think you’ll get with them on your tail?”

Milton tried hard to hide his discomfort.

“Captain Milton — John. Get in the car, please. I’d rather not be here when they arrive. And I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

He couldn’t deny that Delaney was intriguing. There was a quality about her that made him want to hear her out.

“Alright,” he said.

He stepped around into the street and got into the other side of the Lexus.

* * *

They drove for half an hour. If Delaney wanted conversation then she was happy to wait to get it started. She paused behind a truck until the road ahead was clear and then pulled out behind it without a word. Milton took a moment to check out the interior of the Lexus. It was a four door, a big executive number, very fancy. He would have guessed it was six months’ old; it still had the smell of a new car and it was kept in good shape. The leather had that deep smell that spoke eloquently of money and the glass was tinted black like a hearse. There were two small suitcases on the back seat. They were identical Samsonite models, the kind of wheeled design favoured by business travellers who prefer to avoid checking their things into the hold. A garment cover was hooked on the handle above the right-hand rear door.

The road became a three-lane interstate and she accelerated up to seventy.

“Comfortable?” she asked him.

“Fine.”

“Put the seat back if you want more room.”

“How long are we going to be driving for?”

“About an hour.”

The chair was motorised. Milton pressed the rocker button on the door and, with a hum of its motor, the chair slid back a few inches. Might as well stretch his legs out; he didn’t know what he was going to find when they got to where they were going and the last thing he wanted was to have his muscles cramp up.

He thought about what she had said. He had no idea how she could have known about the Group but, if what she said was true, she had probably saved his life. He looked out through the window at the sparse traffic heading into Victoria as they sped away from it. The lights of the cars and trucks shone brightly, high-beams raking into the sky until the drivers approached and flicked them down. He looked at them and wondered if he would see a face that he recognised.

Delaney glanced into the rearview mirror at the traffic behind them and changed lanes. Milton took the chance to look at her reflection in the windshield. She was average height, slim and had a delicately-boned face. The auburn hair was the most striking thing about her: long and glossy, all the way down past her shoulders. He guessed she was a hundred and thirty pounds and five-nine. Age? Somewhere between thirty or thirty-five, he thought, although he’d never been good at guessing women’s ages. Her eyes were vivid emerald, her skin was flawless with little make-up. She was very striking. She was wearing a trouser suit with a white shirt that had a prominent collar. It was simple and elegant and obviously expensive. Her hands were slender and her nails were polished and manicured. She didn’t wear a wedding ring. The only jewellery she wore was a discrete silver cross around her neck.

“Where are we going?” he asked her.

“Houston,” she said.

Chapter Eleven

Delaney had booked two rooms at a motor court that served the airport. They arrived at eleven; she checked in while he waited in the car. He wondered whether he should disappear now, open the door and fade into the busy night, but he resisted the temptation. She knew too much about him and about things she should never have known for him not to be just a little intrigued. Instead, he arched his back and reached into the rear of the car for the nearest suitcase. He unzipped it quickly and pulled open the lid. There was nothing there save for a couple of changes of clothes, two pairs of shoes and a toilet bag. He settled back into the front and opened the glove compartment: he took out the car’s manual and insurance details and put them to the side. There was some documentation from a rental agency; the car had been hired yesterday from the Hertz counter at the airport. The documents were signed in her name. Whoever Delaney was, she had flown in to pick him up. There was nothing else in the compartment, and so Milton put the documents back and shut it.

Delaney returned. She put the car into gear and rolled into the parking lot next to a low single-storey terrace that was divided into a dozen rooms. She reverse parked the car into a space and switched off the engine. “We’ve got that one and that one,” she said, pointing towards two adjacent rooms. “Are you hungry?”

He was; he hadn’t eaten all day. “I could eat.”

“You could probably do with a shower, too. Why don’t you go in and get yourself sorted. I’ll order some delivery and then we can talk.”

“Alright,” he said.

They both exited the car. She opened the rear door and removed the suitcases and the garment holder. She draped the holder over the extended handle of one of the cases. “That’s for you,” she said. “There’s a change of clothes in the suitcase and some toiletries. There’s a suit in the holder. You’ll need to wear it tomorrow.”

“What am I doing tomorrow?”

“Get freshened up. I’ll explain later.”

* * *