Chapter 22: Valeriy Ayers - Kitchen Sink (Part III)

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'Police...?'

Going by how Bucky sunk into the driver's seat, he spotted them as well.

'I made sure they weren't going to use the car this evening... so it shouldn't be reported as a stolen vehicle...?'

"There's a police presence. Two officers to the west. 29.7 meters," he rattled off, hand likely fidgeting from trying not to grab a weapon of some sort.

"Alright," I responded, taking in a deep breath. "Keep posture strong and confident, but force your strides to be... what mine were at the park. Should be enough to change your movements. The dash cam is pointed at our R.V. and walking gate can be used as an identifier."

Hurriedly, I stuffed the panties from Victoria's Secret under my heels inside my shoes. Makeshift lifts to change my height. They had my exact height. The lifts would change my gate too.

"If they approach us, I'll deal with them. Pretend you have a fear of interacting with strangers, and if they talk to you, whisper your answer in my ear. Use melting ice cream to get inside. Tell me you're going to do that. Take the keys with you and lock the door behind you. They're not allowed inside unless we let them or they hear sounds of distress."

"What if they're Hydra?" he pointed out.

"...."

'They're clearly staking out the R.V. and Hydra wouldn't look for you in there. It's why I picked this one over the small dented to hell one...' I almost huffed out while painting super glue over my left hand. Grabbing my finger prints was no longer an option.

"They could be the ones after you."

"Mmm. If I can't talk my way out of this... otherwise stay in the R.V. unless I call you out, and make sure to lock the door after.... Don't need them questioning about the guns and stuff.... And remember that you're my boss, 'kay?"

He gave a nod. "Got it."

"Just be confident. We'll be fine. Might have nothing to do with us...?"

With a nod and a forced smile, I exited the car, gathering up the various bags from our shopping trip. Bucky grabbed the rest of them and took the lead in heading to the motorhome.

I barely held in a sigh at the two faces that approached us. I had just taken pictures of those faces on fake passports. 'Jekyll.'

"Excuse us, E.P.S. Does this R.V. belong to you?" one of them questioned, flashing his badge in a manner that really only let us see a blurry streak of gold.

Bucky paused for a beat, his hands tightening around the handles of the bags. Fists ready for punching. Before I could rest a hand on him to remind him, he turned to me, leaning down. His lips almost brushed my ear as he whispered, "I'll get the ice cream in the freezer. Take care of this."

"Sure thing, boss," I almost chirped out in a manner much too chipper, but I squeezed my voice through my nose, keeping it high and squeaky.

"Hey! We need to speak to the both of you!" the other demanded, trying to step into the motorhome with Bucky, who managed to slam the door close before anyone was anywhere close. He was none too gentle with the locked door.

"My boss has sever anxiety in regards to talking with strangers, and he's putting away the ice cream," I stated calmly. "Please talk through me. I can answer any questions you have. So, how might I be of help, Officers?"

"You can let us into the R.V. to start," snapped the asshat still manhandling the door.

"Do you have a search warrant?"

"We're searching for a very dangerous and armed individual," his pal covered, signalling the other to back off. "She may not be traveling alone."

I had to force myself to take a step back and glance about the surroundings. Feign some semblance of a normal reaction.

"We believe she may be inside."

"Nobody's inside. Well, besides my boss now. We have an Ayers system. It would have notified us if there were a break in."

"We noticed you have cameras set up. Can we see the footage? Can we search your vehicle? For your safety," one of them said, charging for the door again. I stepped between them and the door.

"No to the search unless you have a warrant for such, but we do have recordings of the footage. You may have that."

They were not amused with that answer, towering over me.

'Awww, they're trying to be intimidating.'

They had nothing on Bucky. They were closer to being pouty kids than getting their way.

No matter.

I got out my phone. "May I have a number or email? I'll send the link to the Dropbox of the footage of our time parked here."

"Dropbox?" one of them asked, rather confused.

"A cloud site. Files are stored there. So, email? Text? Paper?" I tried again. Thumbs poised at the ready to type.

'They actually have a police notepad....'

One that I scribbled the link into, purposely holding the pen different in my left hand from how I usually would write. All to keep my handwriting away from any of my own. Official documents. Memos. School notes. Anything that could possibly be linked to me.

"Do you have a description or a picture of this woman? And how might I contact you if we spotted said woman?"

At that, I was trading business cards and staring at a face quite familiar to me. Mine. Snapped a picture of the photo as if I'd never seen it before and if I didn't, I'd forget.

I could feel their eyes burning into my masked face, probably debating if I was me. Likely due to the name on the card I gave them.

Valentina Mckinney.

I should have picked a different name but in the case that Val was slipped out, I had a cover for it. Though if there was a slip, these two probably would have shoved my head into a bag and dragged me off to who knows where. Or at least tried to.

"She's slightly shorter than yourself."

'Yay... the makeshift heel lifts worked...' I commented in my head, while nodding along with their words. "I shall call if I see this face. Is there anything else?"

"Where are you headed to?"

"Hard to say. The boss only works when we're driving. He picks a random direction when he feels like working."

"And what does he do?"

"Game developer."

It's written all over their body language. They still wanted in.

"Is that all, Officers?"

Reluctantly, one nodded his head, patting his partner on the arm, and they headed back to their car.

I waited patiently for a few seconds. Enough time for me to pick the lock, get in and lock the door again.

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Author's Note:

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