by Tanya Stowe
Carlos tipped Chang and Ferone off. Did he do it to get back at Alex? Was payment for Carlos’s tip-off their help to spirit La Guitarra away? It had to be the answer.
Alex ran to the glass door. “Do you know what’s on the other side of those trees?”
“I think the main road loops back around below.”
Fear leapt into Alex’s throat. He flung open the door and charged into the scrub pine forest.
“Alex, wait!”
He didn’t stop. The pines and bushes were thicker than they seemed but he found what he was looking for. A man’s footprints leading down the mountain. He followed them.
The ground sloped steeply. It took all of Alex’s concentration to keep progressing as he wove in and out of bushes and trees. He dug his feet into the soft earth for better purchase, doing a half hop down the slope. He could hear Lara behind him. He wanted to shout back at her to stop and go back, but he couldn’t spare the time, or the breath. He could hear the cars. He broke out of the trees onto the main road.
No sign of Carlos in either direction. He bent over his knees in frustration, panting.
Lara ran out of the trees to stand beside him, gasping for breath. “Now what?”
“I don’t know. I just don’t…” An idea came to him. He rose and grasped her arms.
“Listen carefully. Remember the small café just down the road?”
Lara nodded, barely able to catch her breath
“Someone has to be helping Carlos and if a car was waiting for him, it would most likely be there. I’ll see if I can catch him. I want you to go back up the hill and get Bowman and his men. Have them meet me at the café. And hurry, Lara.”
She nodded again and turned, but Alex caught her arm and pulled her back. He kissed her quick on the lips, spun, and ran down the road.
16
Lara lifted her skirt hem, tucked it into her waistband, and ran back to the trees. Climbing uphill was much harder than going down in the loose soil. She slipped. The soil clung to her leggings and slid into her shoes. She fell forward several times and climbed hand over foot until she could stand, never slowing. She reached the top completely out of breath and still had to cross the compound.
Thinking quickly, she ran into the guesthouse through the still-open glass door, grabbed the keys Alex had fingered moments ago and slid into his car. The engine of his sleek little sports car turned over easily.
Lara gunned the gas pedal to cross the compound in a matter of seconds. She pulled into the driveway by the front door and hit the brakes and the horn at the same time.
The instant one of the men poked his head out the door, she shouted, “Carlos escaped through the forest. Alex followed him to the café on the main road. We’ll meet you there!” Then she stomped on the pedal again. The little car shot out of the drive, spewing gravel behind. Lara bumped down the road so fast, she slid into the main road at the base of the hill.
Skidding to a halt, she looked up to see oncoming traffic headed straight for her. With a little exclamation, she threw the gearshift into reverse, managing to back out of the way just in time. She released her breath, counted to two, gunned the accelerator again and caught up with the cars that had just passed her.
Arriving at the café, she spotted Alex in the parking lot by the edge of the road. She screeched to a halt beside him, and he ran around to the driver’s side.
“Scoot over.”
“What’s going on? Did you see him?”
“The owner of the café said a man with a guitar case got into a blue foreign luxury sedan.”
“If we know what kind of car we’re looking for, why don’t we just let Bowman and his men do their work?”
“There’s an old airstrip about four miles around the mountain on the outskirts of town.” Alex hit the blacktop, already topping the speed limit. “Your father said Townsend has a jet.”
“Townsend? Rupert Townsend has something to do with this?”
“I’ll explain, but first I need you to call Bowman and tell him what we’re doing.”
Lara gave Bowman the information, and then listened as the agent told her—loudly and in no uncertain terms—to make Alex stop.
“You tell him.” She held the phone away from her ear in Alex’s direction.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Bowman’s voice reverberated.
Alex’s tone rose in response. “I’m hoping that if we’re too late, I can at least get a glimpse of the plane. Make sure it’s Townsend’s. Maybe get some numbers off the tail so we can trace it.”
Bowman kept yelling but Alex motioned Lara to hang up.
“What if you’re wrong? What if Carlos isn’t headed to the airstrip?”
“Then Bowman and his people have a description of the car and it’ll be our only hope of finding La Guitarra.”
Lost. That priceless instrument would be lost. Its beauty and history would disappear. The knowledge sank deep into Lara’s heart, giving their pursuit a new sense of desperation.
Alex turned onto the main road and drove even faster in the twists and turns of the canyon. He gave Lara an abbreviated version of the facts.
At the base of the hill they came upon a crossroad.
Alex hesitated before turning swiftly left. “I hope I got the café owner’s directions right.”
Lara searched the glove compartment and the side pockets.
“What are you doing?”
“It’s a rental, right? Don’t they usually have maps of the area?” She found no maps, no highlighted tourist info, nothing.
They sped along the empty road, skirting the edge of the mountains. The road dropped and rose like a roller coaster. As they crested a small hill, another vehicle topped a distant one.
“Alex, look! Is that car blue?”
They went below the hill before they could get a good look.
“I couldn’t tell for sure. The mountain’s shadow makes everything dark.”
He notched up the speed. The car hit the rolling hills almost at a bounce before the road straightened and then fell into the valley below. They came up the last hill.
Lara looked across the open plain. In the distance, she saw the gleaming white lines of a jet parked on a runway cut out of desert brush.
“It is them! There’s the jet.”
The road had leveled by now, and they could see the car a few miles ahead. Alex jammed the accelerator to the floor, and the vehicle leapt forward. “We should be able to catch them. This car has a powerful engine.”
The speedometer inched up the numbers. Seventy-five. Eighty.
Lara closed her eyes at ninety.
The blue car was just ahead of them. It accelerated, putting more distance between them.
The sports car’s engine roared, and the miles between them disappeared.
Lara held her breath as they sped within two car lengths of the blue sedan. Two people were in the car—a driver and, on the passenger’s side, Carlos.
Alex veered into the lane of oncoming traffic.
“What are you doing?” Lara clutched the dash.
“I’m going to get ahead of them and force them to slow down. It’ll give Bowman and his people time to catch up.”
“Are you crazy? What if cars come down the road?”
“We had a good view of the road from the hill. As far as I could see, it’s empty. I’ll watch for cars. You keep an eye on Carlos and his partner.”
Lara gritted her teeth and tightened her grip on the dash. As they inched closer, Carlos’s white, strained face came into view. He appeared to be shouting at the driver. Lara was almost level with the driver. Their gazes met just before he lifted a gun and pointed it straight at her.
“A gun, Alex! He has a gun!”
Alex hit the brakes and the sports car jerked hard. The sedan shot ahead as their vehicle shook and twisted, trying to swerve out of control. Alex wrestled with the wheel as he let up on the brakes. The swerving stopped, and they coasted to a stop in the middle of the
road.
In the sudden silence, Lara could hear her own gasping breath.
Alex gripped her hand. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, but they’re getting away.”
“Let them. I’m not risking your life, even for La Guitarra.” He wrapped his hand around her neck and tugged her toward him. He was leaning in to kiss her, when the sound of skidding brakes drew their attention.
The brake lights on the vehicle ahead lit and it screeched to a halt. The back-up lights flared as the car started backing up.
“What are they doing? I’m letting them go.”
Something clicked with Lara. “They’re coming back.”
“Why? They could be on the plane and out of here before Bowman arrives.”
“Because I recognized the driver,” Lara said in a calm quiet voice. “He’s a dealer, and I’ve met him before. His name is Louis Ferone.”
“Your father suspected he might be connected, but we had no proof.” Alex’s expression hardened and he jerked into action, slamming the car into gear. He couldn’t turn the car around without the risk of getting stuck in the sandy shoulders, so he slammed the gearshift again. The car bucked backwards. With his arm looped over the seat, Alex backed down the road at a high speed.
The getaway car was gaining on them, coming fast.
Reaching a spot in the road where the dirt was packed, Alex slammed to a brief stop, then whipped into a three-point turn and gunned the gas. They were headed in the right direction, but they’d lost precious time.
The sedan caught up to them and rammed their tail end.
Alex wrestled with the wheel, trying to keep control. “I just need a few seconds. This car will outrun them if I can just get a little distance.” Even as he spoke, there was a loud pop, and then another.
“What’s that?” Lara turned back.
“Gunfire! He’s shooting. Get down!”
Lara ducked her head just as another, larger explosion rocked the car, a violent rattling vibration.
“He hit a tire. Hang on!”
The car hit the loose dirt and slid off the road.
Lara screamed as it spun in circles.
Alex whipped the wheel, turning into the spinout. The car rattled to a halt.
Lara almost sobbed with relief.
Alex reached across her and opened the door. “Get out, Lara. Slide out and stay down.”
With their heads ducked, they faced each other across the front seat. Alex’s features were grim and she understood in an instant. She could identify Louis Ferone. He wouldn’t let her escape.
Lying flat, Alex jerked open the glove compartment and rifled through it.
Lara punched the button on her seat belt and slid backwards to a crouch outside the car.
Alex touched something beneath his seat and the trunk sprang open. Then he climbed out beside her.
Dirt swirled around them in a dusty cloud. Keeping the sports car as cover, Alex pushed Lara down the length of the car. At the back, he raised his head high enough to peek inside the trunk. He pulled out a tire iron and handed it to her. Then he grabbed two flares.
The blue sedan screeched to a halt behind the dust cloud.
“Listen carefully.” Alex kept his voice low, his gaze fixed. “When we see him, watch the direction he takes. If he comes to the front of the car, you go around to the other side. Keep your head down and wait. I’ll draw him off.”
“What do you mean ‘draw him off’?” she whispered.
“I’m going to distract him so you can get behind him.”
“You’ll be a target, Alex. He’ll kill you.”
“The minute he gets a clear shot at me, I’ll light the flares in his face. He’ll be momentarily blinded. It will give you time to hit him. Keep your eyes turned away from the flare and don’t miss. Hit him hard enough to knock him out. And Lara—don’t leave your back to the road. Carlos might decide to follow him.”
Lara nodded and swallowed hard.
“If he comes around to the back, you go the opposite direction. Understand?”
Lara didn’t have time to answer.
Ferone appeared out of the dust, both hands gripping a gun pointed in front of him. He paused long enough to get a good look at the car. Then he strode toward the front.
Alex shoved her around to the left.
Crouching low, Lara ran down the side of the car. She’d reached the front fender when she heard the fizzle of a flare coming to life. Bright light flashed under the car and all around her.
Lara stood and looked up to see the gun pointed straight at her. She gasped.
The gunman’s eyes narrow with intent.
A bright, burning flare catapulted through the air and struck Ferone in the side of the head. He yelped with pain and ducked. In the next instant, Alex flew over the hood, diving for Ferone. He struck the man, and they both flew backward.
They hit the ground with loud grunts. The gun skittered across the dirt, yards away from Lara.
Alex and Ferone rolled once, twice across the dirt.
Lara moved forward to grab the gun.
Carlos appeared out of the dust headed for the gun, too.
The tire iron was still in Lara’s hand. She gripped it. Filled with righteous fury, she ran toward Carlos, the iron held above her head.
One moment his gaze was fixed on the gun. The next, it turned toward Lara. He shouted in surprise and threw up an arm.
Lara slammed the iron straight down.
The makeshift weapon struck a glancing blow to his head. Stunned, Carlos fell backwards to the ground.
Lara spun around, ready to help Alex.
He straddled the gunman. Alex let go of Ferone’s shirt. The man slumped to the side. For a moment, the only sound was Alex’s tortured breathing.
A siren echoed over the hills.
As Alex rose to his feet, Lara tossed the tire iron and ran to him.
He wrapped his arms around her. “I thought I’d lost you.” He murmured as he buried his face in her hair.
A small nervous laugh escaped. “I thought so, too!”
“You were almost killed.” He cupped her chin, his long, graceful fingers scraped and bloodied. “I don’t know what I would have done if something had happened to you, Lara.”
Dirt streaked his cheek and went into a nasty scrape just beneath his right eye. She reached for it, but he caught her hand and pressed her fingertips to his chest.
“Lara, I love you.” The words were barely said when a car skidded to a stop in the middle of the road.
“I believe you,” she whispered, and touched his cheek as Bowman, gun drawn, ran toward them.
“Just what did you two think you were doing?”
With one arm wrapped around Lara’s waist, Alex faced the angry agent. “It was my fault. I dragged Lara into this and almost got her killed.”
“Hey, I followed you,” Lara said. “I wasn’t about to let you have all the fun.”
Alex didn’t laugh. “Trust me. There was nothing fun about seeing a gun pointed at you.”
“My first adventure,” she said in low voice. “Another first with you…and I hope not the last.”
Lara’s doubts disappeared. He’d risked his life to save hers. She no longer doubted his love or his good intentions. Other things needed to be discussed, many more explanations between them, but Lara acknowledged Alex’s love for her and she loved him.
One of Bowman’s men carried a guitar case he’d retrieved from the back of the blue car.
Alex released Lara long enough to look inside and confirm it was La Guitarra.
Bowman slammed the cover shut and barked orders. “You two stay here, out of trouble. Altman, you come with me. The jet is taxiing down the runway. We can’t stop it, but maybe we can get close enough to get some identifying information.”
“I’m sure it belongs to Townsend,” Lara said.
Bowman paused.
She gestured to the gunman still unconscious on the ground. “That’s why
he tried to kill us. I recognized him. His name is Louis Ferone. He’s an antiquities dealer and Troy told me Rupert Townsend gave Ferone his recommendation. I’m sure Townsend’s on the jet.”
Alex and Bowman exchanged glances.
“You’d better hurry, though,” she said. “If you give Townsend enough time, he’ll come up with an alibi or find political sanctuary. Extraditing him could become impossible.”
Another car showed up. An ambulance wailed in the distance. Sirens echoed in the hills around them.
Suddenly, Lara just wanted to go home.
Bowman conferred with an Arizona patrolman, and then came back to them. “We can wrap up here. You two go back to the house and stay put. Don’t pull any more hair-raising stunts like this one or I’ll put you under house arrest.”
“Don’t worry.” Alex wrapped his arm around Lara. “I won’t allow anything else to happen to her.”
She and Alex climbed into the police car.
Alex pulled her closer, almost as if he were afraid to be separated from her.
Lara loved the feeling. Easing her head back, she closed her eyes. In what seemed like a very short time, they arrived at the house.
Her father hurried out.
Lara ran into his arms.
“What were you thinking? You had no business following those men.”
“It’s my fault, sir. I take full responsibility.” Alex spoke from behind Lara. “If I’d known Ferone was in the car and Lara knew him, I’d never have risked her life.”
“Risked her life? Ferone attacked you?”
Lara could feel her father’s muscles bunching in tension. “Don’t you think you’ve done enough to my daughter? I know she has feelings for you and you used those feelings. Did you have to risk her life, as well?”
Alex hung his head, didn’t even try to argue.
Did he feel he deserved punishment? Was he so guilt-ridden he’d take her father’s public chastisement? Would he go even further, would he profess a love he didn’t really feel? Were the feelings she was certain of before simply an emotional reaction to their danger?
