Charlotte drove as fast as she dared, still bewildered as to whether she was doing the right thing. Anderson had basically told her to pack up and leave straightaway, but she had insisted on coming to his aid, not prepared to just abandon him. It didn’t help that Anderson had no clear idea of where he was, and his best guess of ‘somewhere south of Washington’ had forced Charlotte to pick a random route while awaiting more detailed instructions.
The next hour was sixty minutes of high stress, her mood alternating between despair and anger; the fact that she had been right all along and McDowell was indeed close at hand, was of no consolation whatsoever. Anderson hadn’t gone into much detail except to warn her that she was in danger, but that all-too obviously went for him as well.
By the time she reached Centreville, she had finally managed to calm down; she didn’t think she had been followed and a second call from Anderson had finally given her a more specific destination to aim for. Of concern was the number of police that were out and about, Charlotte eventually waved to a halt because of a police road-block.
One officer moved from car to car, another watching everything, hand never far from his gun. Charlotte wound down her window and smiled sweetly at the officer – at least that was how she hoped it came across and not as a scowl.
“Sorry for the delay, Miss,” said the officer. “If you could please pop the trunk.”
Charlotte did as she was bid, wanting to ask who they were searching for but not daring just in case it wasn’t actually McDowell. The officer took a casual glance inside the car and boot, before giving Charlotte a smile and waving her through.
Five minutes later she turned into the Chantilly Golf Club entrance, parking well away from the clubhouse. She then just waited, engine turned off, searching the shadows for some sign of Anderson.
The passenger door was pulled open and Anderson slid onto the seat. Charlotte almost threw herself at him, relieved but for some reason wanting to shout at him as well.
Welcome over, Anderson quickly recounted more on his meeting with McDowell, Charlotte listening in shocked silence as he glossed over his escape.
“The police are everywhere,” she said, when he had finished. “Are they looking for you or Pat McDowell?”
“Both of us, I guess,” Anderson replied, sounding exhausted. “People might not have heard the shots, but at least one saw me running away with a gun in my hand. McDowell implied he had the FBI in his pocket, and it’s just too risky to give myself up.”
Charlotte could well understand Anderson’s concerns – what she didn’t appreciate was him trying so hard to convince her to return immediately to the UK, when he was all-too obviously staying. And it just seemed foolish not to at least talk to the FBI: Anderson had only fired the gun in self-defence and the longer he left it the guiltier he would look.
It was a lonely trip back to Leesburg, Charlotte once again worried by the decisions they had both made. Anderson was now slightly better equipped than earlier, with Charlotte having supplied various basic essentials such as cash and clothes, as well as passing across her phone. Trading phones had been her idea – pointless probably, but it seemed safer than Anderson using his own or having to risk a payphone. Transport was proving trickier, the hire car too dangerous a proposition. Anderson’s one ace was Adam Devereau, Anderson confident that his former boss and his many contacts would be able to work some magic.
Charlotte was still undecided as to what she should do – if McDowell’s threat was to be believed then returning to the Jackson Inn could be a serious mistake. She had her passport, and money, but not a lot else, and despite Anderson’s warning, she was reluctant to leave everything behind. She had had to pander to McDowell once before and that was once too many – with the police hot on his tail, surely he would have far better things to worry about than her.
Charlotte focused on that thought, offering up a prayer to whoever might be listening that she was actually right – so far, luck had been on their side, and maybe to expect anything more might be pushing it.