“Did you hear what she said?” Carrie asked shakily. He heard and felt the panic in her voice, mainly because he was feeling much the same himself.
“I heard.” Kyle pulled out his billfold and counted his cash. He had less than fifty dollars with him. “How much money do you have on you?” he asked.
“On me?” She reached inside the large bag, sadly empty now except for her wallet. “Thirty dollars.”
“How much can you get?”
“I don’t know, why?”
“We’re leaving town.”
“Leaving town? We can’t…”
He could almost see the list of protests working their way through her mind. “There’s a cash machine here,” he said in a low voice. “Take out as much money as you can. I’ll do the same.”
“I don’t have much in my checking account,” she admitted.
“How much?”
“About three bucks,” she said with a sigh. “This has been an expensive month.”
Kyle mentally calculated how much ready cash he had as well. Luckily he had access to his savings account, but that wouldn’t last them long, especially if they were going to be on the run.
“I’ve got a credit card,” Carrie volunteered, taking it out of her wallet.
“They’ll trace us with that.”
“Not this card. It belongs to my dad. He insisted I carry it for emergencies. On pure principle I’ve never charged anything on it.”
Now seemed like the perfect opportunity. Kyle reached for her hand and noticed it was cold and clammy. His first duty was to protect Carrie. He needed to find someplace safe and fast.
Within a few minutes there was an ambulance, a fire truck, and no less than six police vehicles. Kyle and Carrie entered the mall from a side entrance, found the cash machine, and viewed what was happening from the anonymity of the milling crowd.
Kyle searched for a familiar face. He didn’t see any until an unmarked car skidded to a stop and Charles Bates leaped out of the driver’s seat and raced inside the theater.
“That’s Bates,” Carrie said excitedly, holding fast to Kyle’s arm.
“I know.”
“Aren’t you going to talk to him?”
“No,” Kyle said evenly. He didn’t know if he’d been set up, but it looked suspicious. It had seemed odd to him that Richards wanted to meet him at a movie house, but he hadn’t questioned it.
He’d brought Carrie along thinking she was safer with him than on her own. Little did he know. Little did he suspect.
One thing was certain. They weren’t safe in Kansas City anymore.
He walked over to a pay phone.
“Who are you calling?” Carrie asked, sticking close to his side. She was terrified; Kyle didn’t blame her. If the truth be known, he was badly shaken himself.
“I need to make a few arrangements,” he explained.
“With whom?”
“My mother,” he said, cupping his hand over the mouthpiece. “Someone needs to know where we’re hiding. There’s no one else I trust.”
“But—”
“Don’t worry, Carrie, I know what I’m doing. We’re leaving town.”
“Where are we headed?”
“My grandparents have a lake cabin in the woods. It’s pretty rustic, but it’s a great place to hole up until we can decide what to do.” His best guess was that they had a week, possibly two, before being discovered. He needed to think, to analyze what had happened and why.
They made their way into the mall parking lot. Carrie was still pale, Kyle noted, but he wasn’t in much better shape himself. He would have preferred to pack a suitcase, but he’d learned to travel light, compliments of Max Sanders. They’d make do with what they had. Once their cash reserve ran out, they’d use her father’s credit card.
Max Sanders moved among the crowd, hoping to get a better view of what was taking place. He’d been in the theater when he heard the silencer. His first thought was that the two kids had been snuffed. Anger had burned through him as he worked his way across the back row of the theater.
But whoever was shot wasn’t the kids. Good. He’d grown downright fond of those two and hated the idea of their being wasted.
Problem was, neither one seemed to understand they weren’t playing with amateurs. The men who were after them were professionals.
Kyle Harris had found his key. Max had discovered it was missing from the undercarriage of the car and knew immediately that Harris had taken it.
Sanders had had to take a small side trip, something unavoidable to get Nelson off his track and stir up things with the Secret Service. He just wanted to make sure the citizens of these United States were getting their money’s worth.
He’d followed Harris home from work, but before he’d looked for the key on the undercarriage of the BMW, Kyle had come out of the house. The newscaster had been whistling a hauntingly sad song that left him wondering what was plaguing the boy. He hoped it wasn’t this business with the key but guessed that it probably was.
From the house Harris had picked up the woman and gone to a movie. The more he saw this couple together, the more apparent it was that the two were in love.
Sometimes Sanders forgot what it was like to be part of the real world where couples fell in love and married. He had never had a wife himself.
He’d been in and out of love a dozen times. But there was just one special woman he couldn’t forget. It had been years ago when he was young and stupid. He’d have married her, too, if that had been possible. There were times, when he saw young people in love the way Harris and his girl were, that he thought back to those days and wondered what might have happened if his life had taken a different turn.
Harris had the key in his possession, Sanders knew. What the newscaster didn’t understand was that giving it to Richards or Bates would do little good. It was a key, all right, but they didn’t have a clue as to what or where. Only he had that information.
The killing in the theater had shocked Sanders. His relief was great, once he realized it wasn’t the two young people. He hung around long enough to discover that the dead man was Richards. Not that he was surprised.
Part of his assignment was to scout out the mole in the agency. He’d narrowed it down to three agents. Richards was one he’d long suspected of being on the take. He didn’t need to be a genius to figure out who the assailant had been, either. Nelson was in town, which meant it was time for Sanders to take a short vacation from Kansas City. He just hoped Harris was smart enough to go into hiding too. There was nothing more he could do to help the couple; they were left to their own devices much the same as he was. He wished them well.
While Kyle put gas in his car, Carrie picked up a few items at the mini-store inside, including a map. Kyle paid the attendant, and they were on their way.
“How far away are we from your cabin?” Carrie asked.
“A couple of hours.”
“What’d you tell Clyde?” she asked. He’d been on the phone quite a while with their employer.
“That we were getting married,” Kyle said absently.
“What’s wrong?” Carrie asked.
“The man who was killed was Richards.”
Carrie swallowed tightly. “How’d you find out?”
“Clyde told me. It could have easily been us. So you see, now isn’t exactly the best time to be thinking about a wedding.”
Carrie laughed. She couldn’t help herself. “Do you mean to tell me that after all this time you’ve changed your mind?”
16
“But it just says they sell fishing and hunting licenses,” Carrie protested when Kyle parked outside a backwoods country store. They’d located the cabin and fallen exhausted into bed. First thing in the morning, Kyle had suggested they buy supplies.
“Places like this cater to a variety of needs,” Kyle insisted. “My guess is the store clerk serves as a justice of the peace as well as postmaster, coroner, and just about everything else.”
In addition to purchasing a newspaper and the food they’d need for the next week, Carrie bought two stiff pairs of jeans and a handful of sleeveless cotton blouses. Kyle bought some clothes as well.
“It doesn’t seem right to talk about our wedding with a man sitting on his front porch and whittling a dog out of a block of wood.”
“Do you want to get married or not?” Kyle asked. He didn’t seem to be in the best of moods this morning, withdrawn and uncommunicative. If anyone was having second thoughts about the wedding, it appeared to be Kyle.
“I want us to be married,” she answered simply. It didn’t seem fitting to buy a fishing license along with one for their marriage. But then, she told herself countless times, these were unusual circumstances.
As they drove down the long, narrow dirt road that led to the cabin, Carrie was able to view it for the first time in daylight. It was a bedraggled sight, against a backdrop of bright green trees and the crisp, clear waters of the lake. At the water’s edge the long arms of a weeping willow swept spindly fingers against the glassy-smooth surface. The trees were mirrored there as well, in a setting of serenity and peace.
The cabin was a dreary shade of brown. Carrie doubted that it had ever been painted, but that didn’t detract from its homespun appeal. The structure reminded her of a bygone era, sort of hillbilly style with one step leading up to the front porch. All they needed was a rocking chair to complete the picture.
The inside, however, had come as a pleasant surprise. It was apparent that Kyle had visited recently. The hardwood floor was swept and clean, and everything had been set neatly in place. There were some supplies, but most, he said, had come from his mother’s health food store; there wasn’t a single item Carrie would seriously consider eating. Kyle either, judging by the dust they had accumulated.
In addition to a loft, the cabin had a lone bedroom, which was dominated by a brass bed, piled high with colorful patchwork quilts.
After they put away their supplies, Kyle said, “I’ve been doing some thinking.” His tone told her she wasn’t going to like what he had to say.
“Oh?”
“I’ve got to get rid of this blasted key. Otherwise we’ll never be safe.”
Carrie had thought of that herself. “Who do you intend to give the key to?”
Kyle rammed his fingers through his hair hard enough to cause her to wince. “The hell if I know.”
“Can we trust Bates?”
“I doubt it.”
“Do you think Richards set you up?” The thought of Kyle being the one shot brought a fear so great it made her tremble inside.
Kyle’s lips tightened. “That’s the problem. I don’t know who to trust anymore. I should have known something was wrong when Richards arranged the meeting in a movie theater. If I’d been running on all eight cylinders, I’d have asked him why, but I’d just met your parents for the first time, and—well, you know how that went.”
Carrie didn’t need to be reminded of the scene with her mother and father. “I doubt that I would have done any differently,” she said, wanting to reassure him. Richards was a professional. If he’d asked her to meet him in a theater, she wouldn’t have questioned it either.
“Who killed Richards?” Carrie wondered aloud.
“I don’t know that either.”
“Nelson?” Carrie suggested, remembering the name being bandied around as the bad guy in all this. The good guys and the bad guys weren’t as clear as they had been.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Kyle said.
“Maybe we could contact the FBI,” Carrie suggested. It made sense to her. If they couldn’t trust one agency they could try another.
“The FBI doesn’t know anything about this case. I could give them the key, but they wouldn’t know what to do with it, and furthermore, none of the right people would learn that we’d gotten rid of it.”
“You mean the bad guys, whoever they are, wouldn’t learn we didn’t have the key?”
“Right. I’d never have taken you to the movies if I’d known there was any danger.” Kyle seemed to feel it was important she know that.
“I never suspected you would.”
“You’re safe here, for the time being,” he said.
The cabin wasn’t the Hilton, but it was livable. Personally Carrie wouldn’t mind an igloo if she could be with Kyle.
“I’ve been going over our options, and it seems to me there’s only one thing left to do.” He hesitated as if he dreaded continuing. “I’m going to leave you here and contact Bates myself.”
Carrie didn’t hear anything more than the part about him deserting her. “No way,” she said adamantly. “We’re in this together, remember? I was there with you in the beginning, and I want to see this through.”
“Carrie, no.” Although his voice was strong and firm, she sensed a pleading quality. “You’re pregnant, and I refuse to put you in further danger.”
“But—”
He gripped her hands and knelt down in front of her. “It’s the only way. Trust me, I’m not keen on leaving you, but I’ll be back in a day, two at the most, and then we can be married.”
“Kyle, no, please don’t leave me. Where will you go? Who will you contact?” The words wobbled as if delicately balanced atop a precipice.
He closed his eyes and kissed her knuckles. “I can’t think of any other way to put an end to this craziness. One thing’s for sure, I’m not placing you in a position of being hurt. Not again.”
“But—”
“If there was any other way, believe me, I’d be the first one to hear you out, but there isn’t. Now listen carefully.” His serious, dark eyes held hers captive. “Do you know how to fire a gun?”
Swallowing became difficult. She shook her head. From the time she was a child, guns had terrified her. She’d never so much as held a handgun, never wanted to.
“Then I’ll teach you.”
“I can defend myself,” she insisted. “Really, Kyle, you don’t have anything to worry about. I know some karate.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Remember that interview I did several months back with the guy who dressed up like a Ninja Turtle and lectured at grade schools?”
“Yeah, what about him?”
“We dated a couple of times, and Ronny—that was his name—gave me three lessons.”
Kyle’s mouth thinned with disapproval.
“There’s no need to be jealous,” she assured him, smiling. “You and I were at odds then, and he didn’t mean a thing to me. As I recall we didn’t so much as kiss. I couldn’t get past the fact this was a grown man dressing up like a turtle. Although he was very nice.”
“I’m not jealous,” Kyle insisted, but Carrie knew otherwise and actually she was pleased.
“It’s all right if you are,” she told him. “I wouldn’t want to hear about any of the women you used to date.”
“I’m not jealous,” he said a second time. “But it worries me that you believe you can hold off men with weapons because you’ve had three karate lessons from a Ninja Turtle.”
“Try me,” she said, leaping to her feet. She took the stance Ronny had taught her and raised her hands as if she intended to pulverize him with two well-placed chops. “You won’t find it so easy to get past me,” she said, bouncing around him. He had to catch her first, and after the first couple of tries, he gave up.
“Carrie, be serious, will you?”
“You think I’m not?” She did a little dance around him, kicking out her leg the way she’d seen Chuck Norris do in a movie. It looked simple enough when Chuck did it, and she was surprised when she saw Kyle’s head lash back.
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” she cried, afraid she might have seriously injured him. She remembered Ronny telling her that the most powerful muscle in her body was in her thigh.
/> Kyle reached out and grabbed her around the waist, pinning her arms. Carrie let out a protesting cry, which Kyle ignored.
“What are you going to do now, O fighting Ninja woman?”
“Kyle, put me down!” She kicked out her feet and struggled, but not overly much. She felt far too good in his arms to put up much of a fuss.
Carrying her into the bedroom, Kyle fell onto the bed with her, collapsing so he took the brunt of the impact. Since it was a feather bed, there wasn’t much of a jolt. Amused, he rolled over and pinned her hands with his own above her head.
“Now what have you got to say for yourself?” he asked as she squirmed beneath him.
All at once Carrie wondered why she was fighting him so hard. This was exactly where she longed to be, in his bed with his arms around her.
The laughter slowly drained out of her, and her chest heaved as she struggled to catch her breath. Having Kyle so close, within kissing distance, paralyzed her ability to reason clearly.
“What do I have to say for myself?” She repeated his question. “I don’t know, but while I’m thinking about it, why don’t you kiss me?”
The laughter was gone from his eyes as well, and the intensity of his look darkened them. He released her hands and leveled himself on his palms an inch or so above her. Fearing he was about to leave her, she wrapped her arms around his neck and eagerly anticipated his kiss.
Nothing happened.
Disappointed, Carrie opened her eyes.
“I don’t dare kiss you,” he said in a rough whisper.
Carrie swallowed her disappointment. “Why not?”
“Because I wouldn’t be able to stop with a kiss. It’s a battle every time I touch you not to make love to you.”
“You have before,” she reminded him, with a saucy grin she hoped he found seductive. He might have some compunction about kissing her, but she didn’t share his reservation. Lifting her head from the mattress, she grazed her moist lips against his. He didn’t so much as breathe, but Carrie knew him well enough to realize her kiss had the desired effect.
Encouraged, she kissed him again, this time using the warm tip of her tongue to outline the shape of his lips.
One Night Page 20
