There was a mischievous twinkle in the old girl’s eyes. “Frank saw him sneaking around. Pretty good, he reckons, and Frank would know. He had a bit of a way-ward past, when we were kids.” She paused. “So is it husband trouble, or the law?”
“Husband,” I said, probably much too quickly. Not that she was likely to believe the truth, anyway. “We’ve been separated for over a year, but he just won’t accept it. Has me followed everywhere.”
She nodded. “Some men are like that. What you need to do is give him a little of his own medicine.”
“Who can be bothered?”
She grimaced, and patted me on the shoulder. “If you feel the need to slip out, just come through the kitchen and pay. Frank will let you out the back door.”
“I appreciate it.”
She nodded and walked back to the counter. I sipped my coffee and watched the wind roll an empty Coke bottle across the road. Part of me longed to turn around and see just what those men in the black car were doing, but I dared not let them know anything might be wrong. So I drank, and ate the pancakes, and generally tried to ignore the tension creeping through my limbs.
After a while, the woman came back with the check. “He’s just slipping back in now, in case you’re wondering.”
“Thanks,” I said, with a smile.
As she walked back toward the kitchen, I glanced at the check and got out the money, adding an extremely generous tip in the process. Hell, it wasn’t my money anyway, and maybe she’d be more inclined to think kindly about us if things got nasty.
Trae slipped into the booth a few seconds later, and wrapped his hands around his coffee. “You know, for a woman who doesn’t like pancakes, you sure as hell made a good job of finishing them off.”
“And for a thief, you sure as hell did a lousy job of sneaking about.”
He frowned. “And why would you think that? Those men didn’t spot me.”
“No, but the old girl and her cook did. I told them we were sneaking away from my hubby’s trackers.”
“Not very original.”
“When lying, it pays to stick to the classics. They tend to be more believable.”
“And you know this from experience?”
“Hey, you were caught.”
He grimaced. “I misjudged the size of my shoulders and that window, but I was hoping they wouldn’t notice above the usual kitchen noise.”
“Frank apparently has a past and eagle eyes. The old girl said we could slip out the back if we wanted to.”
“As long as they’re watching us, they’re not noticing the tires. That’s what we want right now. You ready to go?”
I gulped down the rest of my coffee and rose. The itching at the back of my neck got stronger, and as we made our way to the door, I stole a glance at the car.
One man was out and leaning on the door, and his expression, even from this distance, looked somewhat agitated.
“Act normal,” Trae repeated, as if reading my thoughts. “And keep hoping they won’t do anything here, out in the open.”
He pushed the diner’s front door wide and ushered me through. The wind swirled around us, lifting the hair from the nape of my neck and running cold fingers down my spine. I shivered and crossed my arms, trying to keep warm against the sudden chill.
Trae touched my back as he moved up beside me, placing his body between me and those men. His light touch sent warmth skittering across my skin, and though it did little to battle the internal chill, I felt a tad more secure.
But not safe. Not with those men so close.
“Has he gotten back into the car yet?” I murmured, my gaze on Trae’s stolen black car.
“No. He’s still standing behind the open door. The driver is still on the phone.”
“Something is going on.”
“It won’t matter in a couple of seconds.”
In a couple of seconds I’d be a nervous wreck. God, how I wanted to run to his car and get the hell away from them. The urge to do just that was so great my muscles were practically twitching.
As we neared Trae’s car, his touch left me, and the chill returned twofold. He pressed the auto unlock. The lights flashed, and orange light skittered across the road, looking almost bloody against the dark asphalt.
A tremor ran down my spine. I grasped the handle, eager to get out of here.
But even as I began opening the car door, movement caught my eye. I turned and saw the man standing behind the open door of the scientist’s car raise his arms and rest them on the top of the door frame.
Saw the glint of metal in his hands.
Realized I’d been wrong, so wrong, in my earlier estimation of how far they might go out in the open, in front of witnesses.
I heard the incongruous popping sound.
I swore and flung open the door. Something slammed into my shoulder, spinning me around, smashing my head against the top of the car.
Then I was falling . . .
Chapter Six
I hit the roadside with a grunt, and for a moment, everything went black. But I could hear voices, and shouting. I could feel anger. Thick, thick anger. Then there was this weird whooshing sound, and heat filled the morning, burning bright. The taint of burning rubber and paint began to touch the air.
I forced my eyes open. Saw flames, leaping high. Flames that were coming from Trae, who stood behind our car, and flames that roared from the fingers of the dark-haired man standing in front of the other car. The two fiery lances met in the middle of the parking lot and erupted upward.
Then the car behind the hunter exploded, sending him and the men who were cowering behind it flying. Trae appeared and dragged me upright, shoving me hastily into his car. Pain swirled, and I made a sound that was half groan, half curse.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Trae’s voice was raw, and filled with the anger I’d felt moments ago. “But we have to get out of here before they come back. How’s that shoulder?”
“Hurts,” I said, voice sounding distant even to my own ears.
Something pressed against it. “Hold that. Don’t let go.”
When I didn’t move, he grabbed my good hand and pressed it against the cloth. “Hold it, Des. Hold it tight, and just stay awake.”
“I’ll try.”
I did try. I just didn’t succeed.
I have no idea how long I was out, but waking was a long, painful process.
My shoulder felt like a throbbing furnace, and there were a thousand tiny gnomes armed with sharp little axes working away at the inside of my head.
I shifted, trying to ease both the aches, but that only managed to make them both worse. A groan escaped my lips, and the sound seemed to echo.
The hollowness reminded me of the cells that had been a part of my life for so many years, and my heart began to race. Part of me wanted to open my eyes and find out where the hell I was. But the cowardly part was afraid of what might be revealed. Of what it might mean.
Because there was no sound of the car. No feeling that there was anyone or anything near. Just an unearthly, unending hush that had the hairs along my arms standing on end.
I breathed deep. Dustiness filled the air, along with a sense of age and regret—as if wherever I lay had once been cared for but now lay abandoned.
At least the air wasn’t filled with the scent of antiseptic cleanliness, which surely had to mean I wasn’t caught. Wasn’t with them again.
Reluctantly, I forced my eyes open. Afternoon sunlight streamed into the room from the ceiling-high windows that lined the end wall directly opposite. The brightness sliced through the middle of the room but left the corners to shadows and imagination. But not even the shadows could hide the neglected state of the room. Ornate wallpaper hung in fading strips down the walls, and what paint remained on the high ceilings and fancy cornices was so cracked and yellowed that it was hard to say what color it might have been originally. I shifted to get a better view of the rest of the room, and discovered the hard way that my skin had decided to cling to whatever it was that I lay on. It peeled away with an odd sort of sucking sound and almost immediately began to sting and itch.