“Anyway, the important thing is the film, right?”
He nodded. “Right.”
“And maybe getting the air conditioner fixed before we go back to Miami?” she asked hopefully.
“Sorry. No can do. We don’t have that kind of time.”
“And you’re the one making the decisions.”
“That’s right,” he said.
“Tell me, is that a macho thing or a cop thing?”
“Neither. It’s just practical.”
“I stand corrected. It’s a control thing.”
He slid a glance her way. “What are you talking about?”
“Never mind,” she replied, turning toward the window.
“Oh, please tell me you’re not one of those.”
“One of what?”
“Those ‘Never mind’ women. If you’ve got something to say, say it.”
She turned and he could feel her glaring at him. “Okay. You’re the most irritating, infuriating, obnoxious, contradictory—”
“I think I get your point,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Try to remember this isn’t a vacation and we’re not supposed to be having fun.”
“Well, that’s a relief because I’m sure as hell not having any. And believe me, if I had any other choice, I’d hop out here—”
“Sam, will you shut up for a minute?” Jake glanced in the rearview mirror again.
“See what I mean? Contradictory. You said if I had something to say I should say it. So I say it and you tell me to shut up.”
“I have something to say, too, if you’ll be quiet long enough for me to say it.”
“What is it now?”
One more look in the mirror confirmed what he already knew. “We’re being followed.”
“Are you sure?” Sam felt a cold shiver race up her spine.
“I’m sure. I’ve switched lanes, adjusted my speed, but they’re still back there Close enough that they can see me, but far enough away that they’re hoping I won’t notice them.”
Sam wrapped her arms around herself, thankful that it was daylight. Her imagination already played havoc with her nerves without the benefit of darkness. She shivered. Suddenly it didn’t feel so hot inside the van anymore. “What can they do out here with other cars around?”
“Not much,” he said. “But they know we’re here and soon enough they’ll know where we’re going”
“So what do we do?”
He shot her a dark look. “We get to Key West in one piece without letting them know we know they’re back there.”
“Then what?”
“Then we find out who they are and why they’re following us.”
“How do you propose we do that?” Sam asked, irritated by his oversimplification of things.
He grinned at her and she saw a dangerous gleam in his eyes. “We’ll figure that out when we get there.”
“Great,” she muttered. She gripped the arms of her chair, wondering what the second obituary would say. Would they even bother with a second one? Tense silence wrapped around them as the numbers on the mile markers dwindled. Sam looked out the side mirror and saw the sedan, still two cars behind them. She felt trapped and helpless, cooped up in a hot van with a dog that was beginning to smell and a man who both intrigued and infuriated her. She dug her nails into her palms and bit her tongue to keep from screaming.
At the mile marker for Big Pine Key, Jake jerked the wheel and the van went careening off the highway. Sam slammed into the passenger door and gasped as the wind was knocked out of her. She clung to the door for dear life as they flew down the off-ramp at breakneck speed.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“Change of plans,” Jake said, his face set in grim lines.
Sam looked at the speedometer and gasped. They weren’t slowing down. She gripped her seat, grateful for the safety belt that secured her as they blew through a red light.
Scenery blurred as the van picked up speed. She caught a glimpse of a shopping center and the entrance of a subdivision as the van barreled down what looked like the main street of Big Pine Key.
“Have we lost them?”
“That’s not what I want.” Jake glanced in the rearview mirror and Sam felt the van slowing.
“Are you crazy?”
“No crazier than you. I’ve got a plan.”
Before Sam could respond, Jake whipped the van down a narrow dirt road lined with pine trees. The van kicked up dust and sand as they bounced along the uneven road. Sam’s stomach flip-flopped sickly as they hit a deep rut. Fletcher’s tags jingled as he dropped to the floorboards and nudged up between Sam and Jake.
“Listen, Sam,” Jake said. “Grab my duffel bag in back. Quick. They’re not that far behind us.”
Sam clawed open her seat belt as the van raced down the narrow road. She nudged Fletcher aside with her foot and stumbled to the back of the van. Leaning over the rear seat, she grasped the duffel bag. She swayed, the heavy bag throwing her off-balance as she made her way back to Jake.
“Now what, boss?”
“Give it to me.” Jake kept his eyes on the road as she handed him the bag. Feeling down into the side pocket of the bag, he pulled out a gun.
Sam’s pulse trip-hammered in her veins and she swallowed hard. This was what he hadn’t wanted her to see back at Annie’s house. “What are you planning to do—have a shoot-out with them?”
“Not if I can help it,” he answered. He leaned forward, tucking the gun into the waistband of his jeans. “Hang on.”
Sam barely had time to register the warning before the van went careening onto an even narrower side road. Jake slammed on the brakes and shifted into neutral.
“Now what?” she asked. This didn’t look like much of a plan to her.
Jake was already climbing out of the van. “Get over here in the driver’s seat. If things don’t go the way I want, get the hell out of here.”
“What are you going to do, Jake?”
He had the audacity to grin at her. “You’ll see.” His smile faded. “Don’t do anything stupid, all right? Just sit tight, keep your head down and if you hear shots, throw this thing into reverse and get the hell out of here.”
“All right.” Sam slipped behind the steering wheel. “Hey!” she called as Jake started to head into the densely wooded forest.
He looked over his shoulder, dappled sunlight playing across his face. “What?”
“Don’t get yourself killed.”
“Promise.”
Sam watched Jake disappear into the woods, blending into the shadows. Suddenly, she felt very much alone. She heard the hum of the sedan’s engine and scooted down in her seat. Fletcher whined beside her and she patted his head. “Hang on, big fella. Jake is going to get us out of this—I hope.”
She saw the sedan in the side mirror as it slowly moved into her field of vision. It turned down the side road and stopped behind the van. Sam counted the minutes silently, her heart hammering in her chest. There was no sign of Jake, at least not from here.
Finally, the slam of a car door broke the silence. She sank lower in the seat and pulled Fletcher with her. The crunch of dry twigs outside the window was her only warning. “All right, out of the van!”
A gun pointed in the window, never wavering from her head. The man holding the gun had the cold-eyed expression of a killer. Sam didn’t move. Fletcher growled. Where the hell was Jake?
“Freeze! Police!”
Jake’s voice ripped through the stillness and Sam jerked into action, lunging for the passenger door. She heard the sounds of a scuffle outside the van. The vehicle shook as someone slammed against it She reached for the door handle. She hesitated only long enough to remember Jake’s warning.
The two men didn’t even notice her. They squared off, circling each other, guns drawn. The other man was of a heavier build than Jake, but Jake moved with feline grace, watching every motion he made.
Jake glanced at her. “I told you to stay in the van,” he
growled.
“I thought you might need some help.”
“Put it down, Cavanaugh. It’s over,” the man said, perspiring heavily in the Florida humidity.
“Not a chance. Who are you and who sent you?”
“I’m not authorized to tell you anything,” the man said. “Now put the gun down.”
Every instinct in Sam told her to run while she could. But she couldn’t leave Jake like this. “What do you want with us?” she demanded.
“Tell him to put the gun down and we’ll talk.”
“Why should I trust you?” Sam asked.
In the split second it took for the man to look at her, Jake lunged forward and brought his arm down hard on his opponent’s gun hand. Sam bit back a scream as the weapon skittered across the ground. The two men struggled roughly but silently until the sound of Jake’s gun being cocked froze the man in his place.
“Look, why don’t I just go ahead and kill you now? I’m being framed for murders I didn’t commit, so what’s one more?” Jake said, pointing his gun at the man’s chest.
“You don’t want to do that, Cavanaugh.”
“Well, since you know my name, why don’t you give me yours?”
“John Manning.”
“Well, that’s a start,” Jake said, stepping around behind the man. He poked Manning in the back with the gun. “Who do you work for? You’re carrying a gun, so maybe you intend to assassinate us.”
Manning shook his head. “I was just sent to follow you.”
“Sam, check his wallet. Let’s see what Johnny is carrying.”
Reluctantly, Sam moved forward. Jake was starting to scare her. She didn’t really think he could just kill this guy, but looking into his eyes, she began to doubt herself. Sam extracted Manning’s wallet from his pants pocket and retreated to the van. Fletcher hung his head out the window and nuzzled her neck.
“Well?” Jake asked as she thumbed through Manning’s wallet.
Sam’s heart skipped a beat. “He works for the government, Jake.” She held up the official-looking government ID for Jake to see.
“What agency?” Jake asked.
“It just says United States Government.”
“Who do you work for?” He prodded Manning with the gun.
“That’s classified information,” Manning answered, every muscle in his body taut.
“Funny, I would have thought you’d be more cooperative,” Jake said, pushing Manning to his knees and holding the gun to his head. “Does it say anything else, Sam?”
She flipped the ID over. “No.”
“It’s classified,” Manning repeated stoically, but his calm facade began to crack. “I was supposed to follow you. That’s it.”
“Then what?”
“Then I was supposed to call headquarters. They would have sent backup.”
“To kill us.” Jake’s jaw clenched on the words.
“No. My boss gave me very clear orders. You’re to be detained only.”
“Who, Manning? Who’s your boss?”
Manning swallowed hard. “Classified.”
Sam could see the coiled tension in Jake’s body and she held her breath. “Come on, Jake,” she said quietly. “He’s not going to tell us anything.”
“I can’t tell you who I work for,” Manning said. “But we’re not the only ones who want you. Come with me and we’ll straighten it out.”
The gun came up again. “Somebody else is after us?”
Manning nodded.
Jake prodded him gently with the weapon. “Who?”
“We’re trying to protect you.”
Jake’s harsh laugh startled a flock of crows into flight. “Try again. You don’t help people by killing them.”
“All I know is that there are some hired guns after you.”
“Is it the same goons who killed the people at the diner?”
“That’s what I was told.”
“A cop was killed at the diner,” Jake ground out between clenched teeth. “Did they tell you that, Manning? Did they tell you the man had a wife and two kids?”
Manning blinked, his bravado deflating under Jake’s fury. “Yeah, they told me. That’s why I’m following you. To make sure they don’t get to you next.”
“Who are your protecting us from?”
Manning shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“Don’t know or won’t tell?”
“Don’t know. They only tell me what I need to know.”
“Great. I’m talking to a mushroom,” Jake said, raking his hand through his hair. “All right, Manning. You’ve been a little cooperative so I guess I can’t just kill you.”
Sam relaxed. “Can we go now?”
“In a minute. Get the keys out of the sedan.”
Sam retrieved the keys from the sedan and returned to where Jake and Manning stood. As soon as Sam passed the keys to Jake, he sent them flying. Sam watched the sunlight glint on the metal as they arced through the air, disappearing into the woods.
“What are you going to do with me?” Manning asked, his gaze shifting from Jake to Sam.
“Not a thing. We’re going to leave you right here. But let me show you something.” Jake took Manning by the arm and dragged him to the side of the road. “See that?”
Sam moved closer to see what Jake was pointing at All she saw was a fairly large hole in the ground.
Manning nodded and Jake explained. “That’s a sinkhole. There’s a whole labyrinth of them under Big Pine. I’d stay away from them if I were you.”
“Why?” Manning asked, obviously curious despite his predicament.
“Gators love ’em. They move around down there and if somebody, like you, should happen to fall into one, well, let’s just say they’ll never know what happened to you back at headquarters.”
Sam backtracked several steps, wondering if Jake was telling the truth. Maybe he was just trying to scare Manning Manning didn’t look half as intimidated as she thought he should be.
Jake pulled him back to the road and led him to his car. “All right, Manning, it’s time for us to go. You just sit tight in the car until we’re gone. Then you can head back m the direction you came. Shouldn’t take you more than half an hour.”
Manning turned toward the car and Jake opened the door. Before Manning could get in, Jake raised the gun. For one terrifying moment, Sam thought he was going to shoot the man. Instead, he brought the butt of the gun down hard on the back of Manning’s head. He crumpled to the ground and Jake eased him into the car, closing the door behind him.
“What did you do that for?” Sam asked.
Jake shrugged. “Insurance. I want more than half an hour’s lead time on this guy.”
“Oh.”
“Come on, let’s get out of here,” Jake said, tucking his gun back into his jeans while he bent to retrieve Manning’s. Fletcher whined from the van. “Right after a doggy pit-stop.”
Chapter 8
“I thought you were going to kill him” The words were a murmur, almost as if she spoke to herself.
Jake kept his eyes on the road. She’d hardly said a thing since they’d gotten back on the highway. He knew he’d scared her back there. He’d seen it in her eyes. Fear. She was afraid of him. It tugged at his conscience and hit a little too close to home.
“I wasn’t going to kill him,” he said. “I had to find out what he knew.”
“Will he be all right?”
There went his conscience again. “If he sticks to the main path, he’ll be fine.”
“Were you telling the truth? About the sinkhole, I mean.” Sam’s voice was still a quiet monotone. He wondered if she were in shock over his behavior or still recovering from the drugs. “Yeah, Big Pine is full of them. Gators love to make their dens there.”
“But he’ll be all right,?” She repeated it like a mantra
“He’ll be fine, Sam,” he replied, exasperation in his voice. She had a way of making him feel bad when he knew he hadn’t done anything wro
ng. “Why are you all fired up to protect the bad guys?”
He could feel her gaze on his face. It made him uncomfortable, like she could see right through him. He didn’t like that. Didn’t want her to know more than what he felt like telling.
“I don’t want anyone to get hurt,” she whispered.
Jake adjusted his speed and switched lanes, passing a silver-colored motor home. “He could have killed us, Sam. Even if someone else is after us, I don’t know who Manning works for. Besides, there was no chance I was going to kill him.”
“Why?”
Jake didn’t answer her at first. He was angry, but not at Sam. He’d screwed up back there with Manning. He’d gotten so spooked by having a gun in his hand again, he’d forgotten one crucial thing—getting the phone number of Manning’s boss. They still didn’t know who they were up against, and it was his fault.
“I can’t do it anymore.”
“Do what?”
He wished he’d never said anything to begin with. “I can’t deal with guns anymore.”
“But you were a cop.”
“‘Were’ being the operative word. I hate even touching a gun anymore.”
He could feel her eyes watching him. “You could have fooled me, back there.”
“I’m a good actor. I did what I had to do. But when it comes right down to it, I couldn’t have killed him any more than you could have.” He glanced at her, seeing the concern in her face and hating how helpless he felt. “Probably less.”
“What really happened, Jake?” Her gentle voice did little to soothe the ache of his conscience.
“I left the force because I lost my nerve and I didn’t want to be stuck behind a desk.” He nearly choked on the words.
She didn’t speak and for that he was grateful. He didn’t want to relive his mistakes, or the pain they had caused. His hesitation had been what had killed Charlie. And he’d be damned if he’d ever put himself in that position again. He was nobody’s hero.
Key West was an explosion of activity. In other words, it was a typical day.
“What’s going on?” Sam asked.
Jake pointed to the banner draped across the road between two telephone poles. “It’s the Conch Festival.”
Dangerous Curves Page 9
