Tall, Dark and Lethal. Dana MartonЧитать онлайн книгу.
It would be easier to tell her the truth and gain her cooperation than watch her every second of every day until he figured out what was going on. “We’ve been implicated in domestic terrorism. Both of us,” he added for emphasis.
She went white and stared at him. “Why?” Her mouth closed and then opened again, but nothing else came out.
“You tell me.”
She was slack jawed for another minute before speaking again. “But they’re wrong. We can explain that it’s a mistake, can’t we? We just have to tell them that it’s crazy. They can’t have any proof. We have to go back and talk to someone.”
She seemed determined to rush into disaster. A real babe in the woods.
Her eyes pleaded with him. “Listen to me. We can’t run. This is probably the worst thing we could be doing.”
The fact that she still didn’t trust him after he’d spent his entire morning saving her curvaceous behind frustrated him beyond words. “How keen are you on a surfing holiday?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Think water and a board.”
Her eyes widened. She swallowed. “They wouldn’t do that to us. We are U.S. citizens. They can’t interrogate us like that.” But she sounded less than certain.
“You’d be surprised what gets done behind closed doors these days. At the very least, we’ll be taken in for serious interrogation. We’re talking days, at the minimum. They are not going to let us go until they figure out what’s going on. I’d prefer to figure things out on my own, then go in once we’re cleared.”
“But we didn’t do anything.”
“And eventually they would figure that out. My worry is what would happen in the meantime.”
“They can’t have any evidence.”
“They might now. Our house blew up.”
“You said those were terrorists.”
“There’s a chance there won’t be any witnesses to testify to that. But the Feds will be finding pieces of guns and traces of C4 all over the ruins.”
Again, no words came out of her mouth, which was still opening and closing as if she were a fish out of water. Which she was.
He shrugged. “Don’t make a big deal out of this. They were left over from my old job.”
“You had guns and explosives in the house?” she squeaked.
He glanced at her to make sure she was okay. “For self-protection.”
She buried her face in her hands, leaning forward as far as the seat belt would allow. A full minute passed before she looked at him again, and it was clear from the set of her jaw how much effort it took for her to keep herself under control. “I could go back and tell them all that stuff was yours. You could hide until you clear yourself. I have nothing to do with any of this.”
“Probably true. But do you think they’ll take your word for it?”
That gave her something to think about for another minute or two. “Okay. But if we have to hide out while whatever this is gets resolved, I’d prefer to hide out on my own. That’s my bottom line.” She drew herself straight and tried to look very tough and businesslike. All five feet five inches of her. In silk pajama shorts, with no shoes, pink toenails wiggling furiously under the dashboard.
He bit back a grin. Gotta give the girl points for trying. “Where?”
“With my brother. Or a trusted friend.”
He didn’t miss the emphasis on trusted. “They’ll have that covered.”
The toe wiggling stopped. Her face went pale again. “You think they’ll investigate my family?”
“Family, friends, coworkers. Consider it already done.”
“But this is insane. This is so unfair.”
Was it? He’d invaded people’s privacy without a second thought if he’d determined that the information he could gain would move his mission forward. He hadn’t given much thought to what it felt like from the other end. Didn’t care much, truthfully. The kind of people who’d made it on to his radar screen were the kind of people who wouldn’t hesitate to shoot a grenade through his house. “Welcome to the real world.”
“Surreal world.” She looked out the window at the peaceful community he was driving through, carefully obeying the speed limit. “What are we doing here?”
“Looking for another ride.”
“You can’t keep stealing. That is a crime. I don’t want to get involved in things like this.” There was a new edge of desperation in her voice.
He said nothing as he drove by house after house.
“Are you looking for something specific?” she snapped, shoving her cinnamon hair out of her face, giving him that furious fairy look.
He’d been developing a fascination with furious fairies in the past three months.
“A way out of here. This is a residential area. As soon as someone looks out their window, they’ll notice if their car is gone. I need a business where people won’t go out into the parking lot again at least until their lunch break.” He turned onto a bigger road at the end of the street and saw some office buildings not far off. He headed that way.
“Do you do this a lot?”
He thought back to other cars he’d borrowed on various undercover missions. And that one plane, an older model Cessna, in Colombia. “When necessary.”
She groaned.
“Drink your coffee.” Those full lips needed an occupation other than nagging. He could have suggested a number of activities for them that would have made him happy. Damn, if he looked at her long enough, he could almost feel her lips on him. But based on the killer look she was shooting him at the moment, it probably wasn’t the right time to suggest anything…personal.
“I’m fully awake. Thanks,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest and blocking his view of her nipples as they pushed against the fabric of his T-shirt. He sure did love air-conditioning.
He navigated over to the corporate park and stopped. “Okay, let’s go.”
“This is a bus stop.”
“They’ll find the car and get it back to the owner faster if we leave it here.” He waited until she got out and then swung his bag over his shoulder, picked up her pajama top from the back and wiped the interior and the door handles to remove fingerprints. “Hey, that’s mine,” she protested, grabbing at the top.
“It can be washed. You just said you didn’t want to be linked to things like grand theft auto.” He gave her a pointed look. “Let’s not leave a calling card.”
“You’re so good at this, it’s scary.” She watched him through narrowed eyes. “I suppose if you weren’t, you’d be in jail,” she added.
If he weren’t, he’d be dead.
A quick scan of the parking lot turned up exactly what he wanted: a Land Rover with four-wheel drive. The doors were locked, but he had his bag of tricks with him. He reached in and pulled out a small tool kit.
In minutes, they were on the road, heading south. He didn’t stop until they crossed the Maryland border, and then only long enough to run into Wal-Mart for a few changes of clothes, plus shoes for her, food and another canvas bag to stash everything in.
“When are you going to tell me where we’re heading?” she asked when they were back on the road again, her fine legs covered by new, tan capri pants.
“A friend of mine has a fishing camp at one of the smaller