“Sure enough, sweet thing,” the cabby said, winking. He was a heavy, good-natured man who looked to be in his forties or so. He cheerfully stamped on the gas pedal and the car shot forward with a jerk that sent Dee back into her seat. She squeaked and ducked down as the taxi shot by Mrs. Gordon’s house. She sincerely hoped that Carridine hadn’t been looking out of the window. Everything had happened so incredibly fast, though, he was probably still standing worriedly at the bathroom door. If he was suspicious, he would surely be knocking and calling to her instead of gazing outside, so she rather thought she was safe. Still she couldn’t assume it, and would have to go on the hunch that he had seen the taxi. When he found her gone, he would be able to put two and two together, but he still wouldn’t know where she had gone. She estimated that she had a fifteen-minute lead, if that.
And she was feeling pretty desperate.
As the cab driver pulled to the kerb just outside the airport building, Dee stuffed a bill into his hand and told him shortly to keep the change, and she was out of the car and into the building before he had finished his thanks. Once inside, she took stock to the right and then to the left, and she caught sight of a flight plan posted to the left. Running over, she sent a quick eye down the flights. The next one would be leaving in half an hour, and it was an airline she wasn’t familiar with. She got quick directions from a girl in a nearby candy shop, then she was rushing through the huge open walkway, passing slower people and elbowing her way around standing groups. Her heart was thumping madly from her swift pace and from the sheer exhilaration of being on the run again, using her wits, dodging discovery. Adrenalin was sluicing through her. She could feel it in her heightened awareness, the swift ticking of her brain.
Catching sight of the airline’s counter, she ran over. “Could you tell me if there’s an empty seat by any chance on your flight to Washington D.C. in a half an hour?” she asked breathlessly, thinking, what the hell? I’ve always wanted to go there. The girl at the counter frowned.
“I don’t really know,” she replied, glancing through some things behind the counter. “The list isn’t here. Let me go and get someone who can find out for you.” She disappeared in the back while Dee concentrated on getting her breathing steady, looking cautiously around her.
It was just plain luck that she saw Carridine before he saw her. He entered the building with long, impatient strides, looking around him, eyes darting alertly to his right, and Dee was to his left. “Oh, my God!” she moaned, clutching her hair with both hands in furious exasperation. “How the hell does he do it—radar?” And she ducked behind a group of several businessmen, wondering what she was going to do next. She edged around a corner and found herself looking at rows of lockers for hire, and then she looked at her knapsack. What she needed desperately at the moment was mobilisation and anonymity. She rushed over to the counter and rented a locker space, throwing her things in it quickly after a mad scramble for her money and identification, which she stuffed into her pocket. Then she slammed the door shut, thrust the key into her pocket as well, turned and muffled a shriek. At a distance, over several people’s heads, Carridine was searching the area, and his eyes lit on her. Then with a distinctly ominous frown that she personally didn’t care for one bit, he started to shoulder his way towards her.
That one sight was all she needed. She whirled and ran. She had the advantage as she dodged, ducked under arms, and darted through the people. The airport was very busy that day, and she was smaller than Carridine, more able to squeeze past people and duck around obstacles. At least she thought that she had the advantage over Carridine, but when she darted her head around for a quick look behind her, she saw that he was quite definitely gaining on her.
There was nothing else for it. She bent her head, clenched her hands into fists, and burst into a quick-footed, agile sprint that made her previous pace look as if she’d been standing still. People turned, looked and pointed at the two running through the airport and any other time Dee might have been embarrassed, but at the moment she had something else on her mind. And she could run. She regulated her breathing, concentrated on nothing but the rhythm of her speed and the path before her, and ran as if she were racing the hundred-yard dash, putting everything she had into it. Just in front of her a worker pushed a cart of luggage right into her way and, being too close to slow down and stop or to try and avoid it, she merely increased her speed, lengthened her stride, and picked up her feet at the appropriate moment. She sailed right over. Then she swerved abruptly to her left, ran through the double glass doors, and picked up her speed again until she was running at maximum strength.
After a moment she risked a quick glance behind her to see if she had by any chance lost Carridine when she had ducked out of the door, and she saw him, even closer this time and still determinedly sprinting after her. She turned, her breath coming in huge, controlled gasps, and stubbornly fixed her mind on running still faster, then she reached down inside her somewhere, called for a little more speed, a little more energy, and her body gave it to her. She actually increased her speed, still sprinting full out and punishing her body dreadfully as she pelted down the sidewalk. It was more than a quarter of a mile now, easily, from the airport. She couldn’t believe it. She was a daily jogger, in excellent shape, and she was a talented runner. She could race at high speeds for incredible distances, and few men could even keep up with her, and yet he was actually gaining on her! That man was good. The only thing she could hope for, short of a twisted ankle, was that he would burn himself out before she in such a bruising sprint. Most short-distance runners could pick up incredible speed, but they tended to burn out quickly. They couldn’t keep the pace up. She could only hope that he was not in as good condition as she was. She could hear the footsteps pelting on the sidewalk behind her and somehow, teeth gritted and face grimacing, she managed to step her pace again, slightly. Her breath was coming in great starving gasps, and with every heave red-hot molten fire bolted through her lungs. Her blood pumped painfully at her temples, and at the back of her eyes. Piercing throbs were shooting through her head as her body protested against this punishment, and she wondered, as she heard the closing footsteps and Mike’s harsh, laboured breathing just behind her, which would break first, her body or her mind.
And just then something was flung like a bolas around her two slim legs, and she came down heavily on the sidewalk, the breath knocked cruelly out of her. She doubled up, gasping for air, her arms wrapped around her sides, and Carridine let go of her legs to lie beside her, panting as heavily as she, his lips pulled back to reveal white, gritted teeth. He pulled himself to his knees, wide chest heaving, and rested a moment.
“Damn, you’re fast!” she heard him say, shaking his head and drawing one hand across his brow. His dark hair was windblown and tangled, she saw, and one shaking hand went to her own. Her eyes had slewed to him when he spoke, but she was still fighting too hard to get her breath back to respond. “But you weren’t good enough, sweetheart. All the same, it was a hell of a try.” He stood and reached down a big, supportive hand, and she crouched for a moment, just looking her fury and hate at him. He merely looked indifferent, and she slowly reached out and grasped his hand with her own.
He gave a great heave and helped her to her feet and, with a sudden swiftness that was like a striking adder, belying the bruising and exhausting race she’d just run, Dee came out of her crouch with the full force of her moving body and the power of her rage, and planted a crippling right hook hard on Carridine’s jaw.
Chapter Three
Suddenly horrified, she watched his head snap back with the force of her blow, and he took an involuntary step backwards, for balance. Then, his head coming down and his jewel-green eyes leaping with fury, he jerked out his right foot and knocked her legs out from under her. Dee went down like a sack of potatoes, hard on her hip, landing with a panting grunt.
They were both totally oblivious to the passers by who were watching avidly, curiously, starin
g and pointing. Dee curled up on herself on the sidewalk, wincing from the pain of her fall and rubbing at her bruised hip. She just went inward into her misery, anger and outrage, and, yes, fear. She didn’t try to get up or move; she just sat on the pavement with her head bent and cried.
Somewhere above her head she heard an impatient-sounding, gusty sigh, then two gentle hands came under her arms and lifted her right up off the sidewalk and deposited her on her feet. Then, as she refused to look up from under her curtaining fall of bright hair, she felt a strong, heavy arm circle her slender shoulders and steer her around the way they had come. They walked this way for the half a mile or so back to the airport’s parking lot, in silence, close together. Dee didn’t really know why she didn’t object to his arm around her, especially when he was definitely the enemy in her eyes, and a great personal threat to her way of life. All she knew was that her defiance and anger had crumbled and she was succumbing to the need for personal support and human contact, something she had been denied for too long.
Back by his dark green sedan car, Carridine asked her suddenly, the sound making her jump, “I saw you by the storage lockers. Were you putting something in one that you’d like to retrieve before we go?”
She nodded, keeping her face averted. They then walked inside and she got her knapsack, doing her best to ignore the stares of people. They left, and as she climbed silently into his car, he asked her quietly, “Would you like to go back to your apartment? It’s a little late in the day to do much of anything else, I’m afraid.”
She nodded again, biting her lip and staring out her window. There was a moment of stillness, and she could feel his regard, but she still couldn’t turn to look at him. She was too afraid that she’d burst into tears again, and she didn’t want to feel humiliated any more than she already did. Finally he started the car and eased out of his parking space, and she found the courage to speak. “I lost my temper. I’m sorry for hitting you.”
She nearly jumped out of her skin when a firm hand came down on her jeans-clad knee, squeezing briefly before returning to the steering wheel. “I don’t blame you, child,” he replied mildly. “I would have felt like doing the same, I guess. I’m sorry for knocking you down. Are we even?”
Dee stole a quick look at his profile as he turned out on to a street, and though his brows were lowered, he was smiling slightly as he cast her a sidelong glance. Then memory returned and realisation hit her, and she withdrew to her side of the car, as far as she could go, saying tightly, “Not quite.”
His smile disappeared and his expression became remote. He nodded curtly and commented, “Fair enough.” And for the rest of the drive back to her apartment, he concentrated frowningly on the road.
They managed to miss Mrs. Gordon as they went up the stairs to her tiny apartment, and after entering, Dee turned and asked him politely, “Would you like to have supper now? I was planning on having hamburgers tonight and I’m afraid ground beef is the only meat I have unfrozen. We could have meat loaf, if that would suit you better.” Her blue eyes as she looked at him were expressionless, blank. She was doing her hardest to keep her expression schooled into that blankness, because inside she was still teeming with waves of rage and resentment at this man who had the power to upset her life so completely. She wouldn’t let him see it, though. She’d already shown too much. Her eyes travelled to his left jawline, as she thought of her blow, and she was inwardly satisfied to see that there was a slight mark there.
Mike was leaning against the doorpost, his green gaze narrowed on her face, his brows lowered as if in puzzlement. “Hamburgers would be fine,” he said slowly, considering her closely. “But if you would prefer, we could go out to eat. There’s no need for you to cook something here, if you’d rather not.”
Her expression never changed. She just regarded him as emotionlessly as if he were the refrigerator, and said, “I’d rather not eat out, thank you. Not only do I get my fill of restaurants at work, but I really don’t have the money to spend.” She turned around and pulled out the meat, pleased with her slight dig at him.
She couldn’t see his face, but she could tell from his tone of voice that he was displeased with what she had said as he replied briefly, “I would of course pay for your meal, since it was my invitation.”
The anger inside her flickered up again, and she turned to stare at him coldly. “And would you mark it down as expenses? But of course you would, and eventually it would be my money that would pay for my meal, wouldn’t it? It’s ironic, isn’t it, that my money is paying your fees to find me, when it’s the last thing in the world I personally want?”
His face tightened into a dark anger, but he obviously made an effort to control himself as he said quietly, “But it’s your aunt and uncle who are paying my wages, not you, so I believe this conversation is irrelevant.” And his expression was cold, repelling, but something hurt and angry inside of her made her retaliate.
“My dear sir,” she drawled nastily, her eyes supremely bitter, “who the hell do you think supports my aunt and uncle? Good old Howard hasn’t worked in at least five years.”
He had begun to turn away, but at that he swiveled sharply back, his face wearing a look of frowning disbelief. “Do you mean to tell me that your money is supporting your guardians?”
Her insolent pose dropped suddenly and her eyes fell away as she turned back to the hamburger and the stove. She reached out an absent hand and switched on a burner, her head bowed and shoulders hunched. She had no idea how young and vulnerable she looked at that moment, as if the cares of the world were residing on her shoulders alone. He stared at her as if he couldn’t look away. “They’re living in my house,” she said simply, as if that explained everything. “I used to love that big old lovely home.” Her eyes stared unseeingly at the drab wallpaper behind the stove as her nimble fingers shaped a meat patty. She shook herself briefly, and glanced at him leaning down against the cracked sink. He was very near, with his shoulder nearly touching hers, and his arms were folded across his chest. He was regarding her intently and she saw concern again.
Her eyes went carefully blank and her lips smiled. “Would you like one hamburger or two?” she asked him politely.
“Two, please. Dee, didn’t you have anyone to talk to, back home, to go to for help? Wasn’t there anyone you could have turned to, instead of running away?”
Her mouth twisted and it was an ugly sight. “Do you want to watch the evening news? I think it’s time, if you would turn on the television.” She didn’t look at him, slamming that door she had so briefly opened with everything inside her. “I like to listen to it while I fix my supper.”
Silence, no movement. Then a strangely weary sigh. “The news would be nice. Perhaps after supper we could—”
She said with a chatty deliberation, interrupting whatever he’d been ready to suggest, “There’s a good movie on tonight and I’ve been wanting to see it. I missed it at the movie theatres. We can watch it, since we aren’t leaving tonight after all.” She flipped the grilling burgers deftly, then she put vegetables on to cook. “Where in the world are you going to sleep? I don’t suppose you would trust me to stay quietly in my bed tonight?”
“No,” she was assured with a hard amusement. “That’s the last thing I’d expect from you. I’ll just bunk down on the floor by the bed, I think. It’ll save you money if we don’t stay at a motel tonight.” That last was said sarcastically, and she knew that her dig about paying his wages had hit a nerve. While she finished supper, he went to the living room and used her phone, and over the noises she was making, she heard him address her aunt directly. Her appetite was completely gone by the time the meal was finished.
After their simple meal, she made coffee and they sat on her bed and watched the movie. It was very good and so funny that she sometimes had to hold her sides from laughing so much. Once her merry blue eyes travelled to Mike’s large frame beside her, and she caught him watching her instead of the television, his gaze cloud
y and troubled. Her smile died as she was shocked into the awareness of the situation, amazed at how she tended to forget. She shrank back, and the rest of the movie was spent in unsmiling silence.
As she was putting away the dishes after they had drained dry, much later, she opened and closed the few cupboards that she had over the stove, shuffling things around. It was a real effort to get everything to fit into the small space she had for storage, and the cupboards not only held all of her dishware, but her canned goods and spices, along with everything that should have gone in the medicine cabinet, if she had had one. She impatiently thrust aside the aspirin and a small pill bottle that held only a few more pills, as she put away the salt and pepper shaker—then she stopped dead, heart thumping madly and throat constricting, staring at that little, nearly empty medicine bottle.
Then her gaze swivelled to the closed bathroom door where Mike was washing up, her eyes wide and horrified at the audacity of the thought that had struck her. The bottle held prescription sleeping pills, left over from several months ago when the vivid, horrifying nightmare of her parents’ deaths had resurfaced because of the stress she had been under to find a job and a place to live before her money ran out. She hadn’t wanted to throw away the leftover pills in case the nightmare returned. She stared at that little white bottle, her blue eyes narrowed and catlike, then her eyes flew to the closed bathroom door again, from which she could hear water running and the sounds of him moving around. It would be a terrible thing to do, but she was going to try.
She wondered if she could pull it off.
When Mike emerged a few minutes later, he found her spooning in fresh coffee grounds into a paper liner in her coffee-maker. He came and peered over her shoulder for a moment, and she said briefly, “Getting it ready for breakfast in the morning,” and held her breath. Her hands were steady, though, as she slid the container into place on the machine, and since he had said nothing, she turned to face him.
The Great Escape Page 4
