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A black, boxy carriage rocked into sight, pulled by a horse, shambling along casually. A woman climbed down from the carriage and tied the horse to the hitching post before disappearing inside the building. In a few seconds, a soft, yellow glow illuminated one of the windows.

“How early do Mennonite kids start school, anyway?” she whispered to Alex.

“They’re early risers as a group. C’mon.”

“Are we going to steal a buggy, now?” she asked in jest.

He nodded and indicated that she should climb up into the black conveyance. Stunned, she clambered between the narrow wheels awkwardly. The thing rocked and squeaked a little as she settled onto the seat. Alex threaded the reins inside the carriage, and as she held the ends, he leaped in considerably more gracefully than she had.

With a quiet slap of the reins on the horse’s rump, he guided the beast back into the night. Whether or not the teacher inside the school heard them or ran out to give chase, Katie had no idea. The grassy meadow and sandy dirt of the carriage path muffled sound tremendously well. If they were lucky, they’d gotten away cleanly.

The genius of Alex’s theft became apparent as the path gave way to a paved road. “Pull the curtains down and tie them in place,” he told her.

The entire interior of the carriage was shrouded in black fabric in a few seconds. Even the front window was covered, with only a narrow slit at eye height for Alex to see through to steer.

And when they approached a parked police car blocking the next intersection, the cop nodded respectfully and waved them past without stopping the buggy.

“Sonofagun,” Katie murmured.

“The Mennonites are peaceful people. Good citizens. In return, they ask that their religious customs be honored.Meidungis one of them. It’s a German term referring to social avoidance. Some Mennonites don’t like to interact with outsiders. A shrouded buggy is indicative of occupants practicingMeidung.”

“Which means what for us?”

“Local authorities won’t screw with us. We should be able to pass by any police undisturbed.”

“Nice. So we’re making our big getaway in a horse-drawn carriage, huh?” She leaned back against the black leather cushions. The buggy was actually kind of cozy in a coffin-like way. Which was somehow entirely appropriate to this fiasco.

Alex murmured, “We should be able to trade this rig for a motorized vehicle in the next town. Some Mennonites do drive cars. And this is a good horse and a brand new carriage.”

Grinning, she enjoyed watching him drive in quiet confidence. “When did you learn how to ride horses and steer carriages? Was this part of your CIA training?”

He commented dryly, “I’m a man of many talents.”

“I’ll say.” Silence fell inside the carriage. She reflected on their flight for a few minutes, but then curiosity got the best of her. She couldn’t resist asking, “Who was that back at the motel?”

“Cold Intent. That was my fault. I broke into the CIA’s mainframe last night and stayed online too long. They must have traced me. Or maybe they think it was you in that room.”

“Why does this Cold Intent bunch want to kill me—or us—so bad?” she demanded.

“I wish I knew,” he answered, his voice brimming with frustration.

Hey. A sign of human emotion out of him. He wasn’t a robot after all!

Honestly, she was worried about him. He’d just been through a gigantic shootout, and for all she knew, he’d killed a few guysback at the motel. Heck, he’d blown up a whole motel room without a backward glance. Shouldn’t he show at least a little reaction to all of that? Instead, he’d dropped into that cold, emotionless fugue state she was rapidly coming to hate.

It dawned on her abruptly that, as soon as he knew why Cold Intent was after her, he would probably leave her. Forever.

Should she wish for him never to solve the mystery and for her life to be in mortal danger permanently?

Ugh. This sucked. Be safe, lose the love of her life. Stay in danger, keep the man she loved, but probably die. What kind of choice was that?

“What do you know about this Cold Intent operation, Alex? Did you learn anything last night?” When he hesitated, she added, “I think I have a right to know why somebody’s so set on killing me, don’t you?”

He exhaled hard. “I found out they’re trying to discredit my father.”

“By killing me?” she exclaimed.

“I’m stumped by that one, too.”