Located off the highway on the outskirts of town, the motel offered obscurity and the kind of anonymity that would buy them safety until the U.S. Marshals arrived. All he had to do was get through the next few hours without touching her. That shouldn't have been a problem, considering she was frothing at the mouth to get at DiCarlo.
"Nice place," she grumbled, tossing her overnight bag onto one of the double beds.
He locked the door behind them and flipped the dead bolt into place. "Welcome to Logan Falls 's version of a five-star hotel."
Without looking at her, he inched a curtain aside and peered into the parking lot. Dusk had settled, but the sodium vapor lights hadn't yet come on. The parking lot was empty, except for a rumbling semi rig and an old station wagon. He should have been relieved there wasn't a Lincoln Continental with Illinois plates idling within plain sight. But he had been a cop long enough to know DiCarlo wouldn't be subtle when he decided to make his move.
Nick's unease had grown steadily stronger since he'd spoken to Frank just over an hour ago. Every time Nick thought of DiCarlo, and the man's reputation for violence, the hairs at his nape prickled. Every time he thought of DiCarlo getting his hands on Erin, that same uneasiness burgeoned into a cold fear that sat in his gut like a chunk of ice.
She was one of the most maddening, persistent people he'd ever met. How was it that the same woman who'd brought so much light and happiness into his daughter's life had brought so much tumult to his? She was impulsive. Headstrong. Courageous. Fallible. And more vulnerable than she would ever admit. How could he let himself care for a woman who planned to single-handedly bring down Chicago 's most ruthless mafioso?
But, Lord, he didn't think he could stay away from her much longer. She appealed to him on a level that made him feel a little crazy-and in way over his head. Since the day she'd walked into his office and given him that cool once-over with those feline green eyes, Nick had been tied up in little knots. How was he supposed to deal with her when every time he looked at her all he could think of was how right it felt when he held her in his arms?
"Look at this."
Turning away from the window, he glanced at her and felt his mouth go dry. She sat cross-legged on the bed, her laptop opened in front of her. She'd changed into faded jeans and an old T-shirt before leaving her apartment, and the clothes clung to her in all the wrong places. Her hair was drawn back in a ponytail, revealing her slender neck and delicate jawline. He had the insane urge to go to her and run his tongue along her throat just to see if she tasted as good as she looked.
Gritting his teeth against the annoying rush of blood to his groin, Nick approached the bed. "What do you have here, McNeal, access to the Illinois Crime Lab Database?"
"Better." She shot him a superior smile. "A database still under development. It tracks the movement of known criminals, namely Mafia types. The big, mean dogs."
"Your favorite kind," he said dryly. "I'm not even going to ask how you got into that databank."
"You probably shouldn't." Her fingers danced over the keys. "Knowing you, you'd probably want to arrest me."
Scowling, Nick glanced down at the screen, where Vic DiCarlo's name blinked. "Our boy's been busy."
"A subsidiary of one of his corporations owns a Learjet. Modified fuel tanks for long hauls." She tapped a key, and the screen scrolled down. "A day after the warehouse shooting, his personal pilot filed a flight plan from New York to London. From there they flew to Sicily."
"Interesting destination."
"Family reunion, no doubt."
"Or a funeral."
Erin 's finger quivered slightly when she hit another key. "Interesting perspective, Chief. But Sicily would also be a good place to rehab if you'd been shot."
"Just what do you plan to do with this information?" he asked.
"Use it to get DiCarlo off my back."
"What are you going to do, hit him over the head with your laptop?"
She looked up from the monitor and frowned. Her eyes were so clear and earnest that for a moment he thought he might do something stupid, like lean forward and kiss her until she forgot all about Vic DiCarlo.
"The computer says DiCarlo is in Sicily," he said instead.
"I think he's back in the States," she said. "He knows the feds are watching, so he did it secretly. No flight plan." She paused. "I think you and I should put our heads together and figure out a way to flush him out."
Anger unfurled in his gut, but Nick curbed it. It wouldn't do him any good to snap at her. He'd already tried that and it hadn't worked. Maybe he could shock her into believing the mob didn't mess around when it came to revenge.
"You shot his son, Erin. DiCarlo won't let it go. He's not going to forget about it."
"If DiCarlo wanted me dead, I wouldn't be here."
"Maybe he doesn't just want you dead. Maybe he wants to hurt you the way you hurt him. You know his reputation when it comes to cops. If he decides to make an example of you, there won't be enough of you left to bury." She started to speak, but Nick silenced her by raising his hand. "Do us both a favor and let the feds handle this."
Unfolding her legs, she rose quickly and crossed to the other side of the room. "I'm not going to walk away."
Nick reached down, punched the power button on her laptop and closed the case. "If I have any say in the matter, you will."
She glared at him. "Don't let your philosophy on female cops cloud your judgment, Chief."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"I mean that misplaced sense of honor of yours that cringes at the thought of me getting into a tight spot with DiCarlo. Admit it, Chief. For all your enlightenment, there's a part of you that thinks women and police work don't mix."
A kick of anger surged through him. "Recklessness and police work is the mix that chafes me."
She laughed sharply. "Right. That's why you nearly blew a gasket when I took down those two suspects during the Brass Rail robbery."
"Your being female has nothing to do with it."
"Hector would have gotten a pat on the back, a gold star and a free beer. He sure wouldn't have gotten assigned to the school crosswalk-"
"Hector wouldn't have risked his life on two small-time bums who would have been picked up by the highway patrol within the hour."
"I'm not going to run away from DiCarlo just because the thought of me taking him down grates on your male sensibilities."
Nick's temper uncoiled. He was across the room, his fingers closing around her arms, before he even realized he had moved. "You want to know what's wrong with that picture, McNeal?"
She stared at him, surprise and a hefty dose of anger suffusing her face. "Let go of me."
"DiCarlo isn't some two-bit hood. He's cunning and he's ruthless. He's got an army of mindless goons just waiting for the chance to cap a cop. Call me a Neanderthal if that makes you feel better and helps you justify your need to make amends with your conscience, but I'm not going to stand by and let you get yourself cut up into little pieces in the name of decorum."
The color drained from her face, but her expression remained fierce. "I'm a police officer, Nick. I go after the bad guys no matter how scary they are."
"You're a powder keg, and you don't have the good sense to know when you're out of your league."
"We're not going to agree on this."
"Evidently."
She took a step back, but Nick went with her. "There's a difference between courage and taking needless risks just because you've got a score to settle with your conscience," he said.
"You can't handle my being a cop, and you've let that affect your actions when it comes to me." Erin 's back bumped into the wall with a thud, stopping her backward progression.