Flirting with Disaster

by Jane Graves

  She listened a moment, then flicked her finger over the disconnect button. “He’s there.”

  “With no other doctors down here, will he be alone in the building?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then we should be able to grab him with no problem.”

  Dave strode back to the guest bedroom, Lisa taking two steps to keep up with every one of his. He buttoned his shirt and tucked it in, then grabbed a gun from his bag.

  “Dave? Are you sure you want to do this?”

  A sense of righteous anger surged through him all over again. “Robert tried to kill you. Then he tried to frame you for a crime you didn’t commit, and now he thinks he’s gotten away with all of it. I’m not going to let that happen.”

  He slid the gun into his jeans at the small of his back, then put on his jacket.

  “Messing with you was a big mistake on his part, Lisa. Because now that means he’s going to have to deal with me.”

  They went downstairs, and Dave phoned Alex back to tell him what they’d decided to do. Even though the phone was against Dave’s ear, Lisa could still hear the expletives pouring out of his brother’s mouth. It took Dave a good three or four minutes to calm Alex down long enough to hear their plan. Eventually he relented, and from Dave’s side of the conversation she could tell that Alex was going to arrange to have customs officials at the San Antonio airport three hours from now to make an arrest.

  “He sounds real happy about this,” Lisa said as Dave hung up the phone.

  “That’s just Alex. He has to fly off for a little while. Eventually he winds down enough that you can reason with him.”

  “Kind of volatile for a cop, isn’t he?”

  “Oh, he’s not like that on the job. Only with family.”

  “People he cares about.”

  “Exactly.” Dave shook his head. “He yells because he loves us. Show me the logic in that.”

  “You know the logic in that.”

  Dave tucked his hand behind Lisa’s neck. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I do.” He pulled her forward and kissed her, then rose from the kitchen chair. “Let’s get going. The sooner we’re in the air and out of here, the better I’m going to like it.” He started toward the door, then turned back. “Better bring a blanket.”

  Lisa slumped with disgust. “So I get to ride in the backseat again?”

  “Now is not the time for Robert to find out you’re back in town.”

  They left the house and got into the car, with Lisa tucked against the floorboard of the backseat. It wasn’t long before Dave pulled the car into the alley that ran behind the apartment building and killed the engine.

  “Okay,” he said. “We’re there.”

  Lisa rose from the backseat.

  “Have you got the plan straight?” he asked her.

  “No problem.”

  “He won’t be expecting anything, so it’ll be easy to get the drop on him. But I still want you to stay on your toes.”

  “I will.”

  “The longer we’re here, the more chance we have of being spotted. So we can’t mess around. Get in, grab him, get out.”

  “Gotcha.”

  “Okay. Let’s move.”

  They got out of the car and moved along the side of the building opposite the side where Robert’s apartment was. They walked into the courtyard and slipped quietly through the front door of the building, letting it close silently behind them.

  Lisa pointed to the door of Robert’s apartment, then positioned herself farther down the hall, just as Dave had told her to do. Dave went to the opposite side of the door and pressed his back to the wall beside it. Lisa nodded, and he reached up and rapped on it three times.

  A long time passed, and Lisa was beginning to think Robert wasn’t going to answer. Then she heard footsteps inside the apartment and the door swung wide open.

  “Hi there, Robert,” she called out. “Nice day, isn’t it?” Robert stepped out into the hall, turning immediately to stare at her. She couldn’t help enjoying the look of utter surprise on his face and how that surprise turned to shock when Dave moved up behind him, wrapped his arm around his throat, and jammed the barrel of his gun beneath Robert’s right ear.

  Dave shoved the man back into the apartment. “Facedown on the floor!” she heard Dave shout. “Now!”

  By the time Lisa made it to the apartment door, Dave had Robert on the ground, his knee pressed into his back, the barrel of his gun against the man’s neck.

  “What the fuck is going on here?” Robert shouted, his face twisted with anger.

  Dave pulled a length of rope from his pocket with his free hand so he could secure Robert’s hands behind his back. “We’re taking you for a plane ride. There are some customs officers in San Antonio who can’t wait to meet you.”

  All at once, Lisa heard a noise behind them. She spun around and recoiled with shock. A young Mexican woman stood in the bedroom doorway. She was naked except for a sheet wrapped around her. She wore a look of sheer terror.

  She held a gun.

  “¡Párese!” the woman shouted. “¡Déjalo!”

  In the span of a single second, Lisa realized what they’d walked into. Robert kept a gun around the house, and now his girlfriend of the moment was pointing it at Dave, telling him to leave Robert alone.

  “Drop it!” Dave said.

  Robert squirmed beneath him. “¡Pégalo!”

  “No!” Dave shouted. “Don’t shoot! Drop the gun!”

  “¡Diji pégalo, ahorita!” Robert shouted.

  With Robert screaming at her to shoot, the woman raised the weapon and squeezed her eyes closed. Lisa turned away in a reflex action, and a second later a shot exploded. She heard a ceramic crash. As the woman ran screaming for the door, Lisa started to turn back, only to see Dave’s gun lying on the floor.

  She dived for it, slapping her hand against it at the same time Robert rose to his knees. She brought the weapon around, but he lunged for her, knocking her to the floor. He clamped his hand onto her wrist, then slammed it down, dislodging the gun. He picked it up, rose to his feet, and backed away, breathing hard, first pointing the weapon at her, then quickly swinging it around to look for Dave.

  Dave. Oh, God.

  For the first time, Lisa saw him lying on his back on the floor. It looked as if he’d dragged down a lamp when he fell. It was lying in pieces beside him. His head was bleeding.

  He wasn’t moving.

  “Dave!” Lisa shouted.

  “Well, look at that,” Robert said, visibly relaxing. “Not only is she a good lay, it looks like she’s a pretty good shot, too.”

  Lisa wheeled around to face him. “You son of a bitch!”

  “Yeah, but now I’m the son of the bitch in charge.”

  Lisa looked back at Dave, her heart racing. He still wasn’t moving. How badly was he hurt?

  Please let him still be alive.

  “Dave DeMarco, right?” Robert said. “The cop who was picked up with you in San Antonio?” He glanced at Dave lying on the floor. “Looks as if he should have left well enough alone.”

  “Why didn’t you go to Adam’s memorial service?”

  “A few of my players turned up missing. Ivan Ramirez. His brother, Gabrio. Smelled fishy. I made a few phone calls. Still don’t know what happened to them. But guess what I did find out? Somebody in my network talked. Damned if I’m going back across the border now. But that doesn’t really break my heart.” He gave her a malicious smile. “Life’s pretty good down here.”

  Lisa glared at him, so filled with hate for what this man had done that it was all she could do not to go for his throat. If only Dave would move. Get up. Something. Anything to tell her he was still alive.

  Robert walked over to where Dave lay slumped on the floor, training his gun on him the whole time. Blood covered the side of his head, and he lay still as death.

  “A head wound,” Robert said. “She’s an even better shot than I thought.” He turned back to Lisa. “One down
, one to go.”

  The anguish Lisa felt almost incapacitated her. This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t. She had a flash of Dave’s family, his daughter, and all the people in his life who loved him, who would eventually find out that he’d died like this. And it was her fault. It was all her fault for dragging him down here in the first place. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she put her hand against her mouth to stifle her sobs. She loved him. God, how she loved him, and she may have gotten him killed.

  Robert put a foot against Dave’s shoulder and gave him a hard nudge. Nothing.

  Oh, God. It’s true. He’s dead.

  Then Robert turned to walk away, and something happened that shocked the holy hell out of her. Dave sat up suddenly, spun around on one hip, and smacked his leg against Robert’s ankles, knocking him right off his feet. Robert came down hard on the floor. Dave climbed on top of him, clamping his hand down on Robert’s throat at the same time he used his knee to trap the man’s arm that held the gun. With a single hard yank, Dave took the gun from Robert’s grasp and jammed the barrel against the side of his neck. Robert choked and gagged for breath, but Dave didn’t let up.

  “Don’t move, you asshole, or I swear to God I’m pulling the trigger.” He glanced at Lisa. “Grab the rope.”

  Lisa just stood there, stunned. Blood dripped from the side of Dave’s head onto his shoulder, yet he was acting as if he hadn’t even been shot.

  “The rope, Lisa! Move it!”

  She retrieved the rope from the floor and brought it to Dave. He turned Robert over, handed Lisa the gun, then yanked the man’s arms behind him.

  “Dave!” she said. “You’re bleeding! The bullet—”

  “I wasn’t hit. She got the lamp.”

  “But the blood—”

  “The lamp exploded and knocked me backward. A piece of it sliced my head open. By the time I realized what was happening, Robert already had the gun. I figured it would be in our best interest if I stayed down.”

  She couldn’t believe it. It was just a scalp wound? All that blood, but he was okay? “Oh, God,” she said, swiping the tears out of her eyes, almost collapsing with relief. “I thought you were dead.”

  “No way,” he said. “This bastard’s going back across the border if I have to climb off my deathbed to drag him there.”

  Dave finished tying Robert’s hands, then took the gun back from Lisa. She hurried to the bathroom, found a hand towel, and when she brought it back out Dave already had Robert on his feet. She tried to press the towel against Dave’s head, but he shrugged it off.

  “Just bring it along. We need to get him out of here.”

  Then Lisa heard something outside, and she could tell Dave heard it, too.

  “Sirens?” she said.

  “Shit. His girlfriend probably called the cops. Let’s go!”

  But when he took hold of Robert to drag him out the door, the man tried to wrestle away. “Fuck you! I’m not going anywhere!”

  Dave shoved him three steps forward and slammed him against the wall, pressing the barrel of his gun against the side of his head.

  “Now, Robert,” he said, restrained fury filling his voice, “you and I both know that down here there aren’t any rules. I could kill you, get back on that plane, return to the U.S., and nobody would even know I’d been here, and even if they did, I doubt they’d give a shit. The only reason you’re still alive is because I’m still hanging on to one tiny thread of humanity where you’re concerned. It snaps, you’re a dead man. You got that?”

  Robert’s eyes widened just enough that Dave knew the man was finally taking him seriously. He shoved Robert out the apartment door, through the courtyard, then around the edge of the building to the alley, where he pushed him into the backseat of the car.

  “Are you sure you’re okay to drive?” Lisa asked Dave.

  “I’m fine.” Dave slammed the back door. They leapt into their seats, pulling their seat belts across them. Dave started the engine, shoved the car into gear, and burned rubber.

  “How fast can you get that plane off the ground?” Dave asked.

  “We can hop in, start the engine, and go. You get us there, and I’ll put us into the air in a hurry.”

  They approached an intersection. Dave sped right through the stop sign, but when Lisa looked down the intersecting street she saw a sheriff ’s car a block away, coming toward them.

  “I think they’ve seen us,” Lisa said. “Let’s move!”

  A few seconds later, the police car skidded around the corner to follow them, lights flashing and siren blaring. Dave gunned it through town, steering wildly around any cars that got in his way, at the same time laying on his horn to warn anyone who was even thinking about crossing the street.

  “Gee, Dave,” Lisa said, her eyes wide and her back plastered against the seat. “You’re getting pretty good at this.”

  “Practice makes perfect. How are we doing back there?”

  Lisa looked over her shoulder. “They’re still there, but they’re not gaining on us.”

  Soon they approached the outskirts of town. Dave maneuvered through the last stop sign, then hit the gas hard. Nothing but open road lay ahead of them. If they could reach the dirt road that ran to the west of Sera’s property and turn onto it without being seen, they were home free.

  Lisa looked over her shoulder. “Looks like they’ve fallen back. We may just make it.”

  The road was filled with curves, which Dave negotiated with as much speed as he possibly could and still keep all four tires on the ground. Lisa kept looking over her shoulder, but no police car came into sight. Then they came around a bend, and Lisa recoiled.

  “Dave! Look out!”

  Dave slammed on the brakes and veered hard to the right, but not in time to keep from crashing into the back fender of a police car that was turned sideways in the road. The impact spun it out of the way and smacked Lisa and Dave hard against their seat belts. Dave wheeled their car back to the center of the road and hit the gas again.

  “Looks like they radioed ahead to another unit,” Dave said. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. You?”

  “I’m fine.”

  Peering out the windshield, Lisa saw the left front end of their car mangled beyond description. “Oh, boy. Is that a problem?”

  “We’re still moving. I’m taking that as a good sign. What’s going on behind us?”

  Lisa looked over her shoulder. “They’re turning around.”

  “Yeah?”

  “And coming after us.”

  “Shit.”

  “There’s our turnoff!” Lisa said, pointing down the road.

  Dave hit the brakes, tires squealing, then made the ninety-degree turn onto the dirt road. He hit the gas again, kicking up a cloud of dust behind them.

  “Are they still on our tail?” Dave asked.

  “I don’t know. It’s hard to see.” She paused, staring hard, trying to make out a car in the midst of all the dust. Nothing . . . nothing . . .

  “Damn it!” she said as the front end of the police car came into view. “They’re still coming! We need more of a lead, or we’re never going to make it.”

  “I’m going to slow down,” Dave said. “Let them get closer.”

  “What?”

  Dave slapped his gun into Lisa’s hand. “Do your thing, baby.”

  Lisa had spent hours at the shooting range in San Antonio preparing for the worst, but never in her wildest dreams had she imagined that it would pay off like this.

  She took the gun and turned around, glancing down at Robert huddled in the backseat. “Better keep your head down, Robert, or it’s liable to get blown off.”

  With that, she blasted out the back window of the car with a single shot so she could see more clearly. Then she zeroed in on her target.

  “Are you close enough to hit something?” Dave asked her.

  “Drop back a little more, just to make sure.”

  Dave eased off on the accelerator. When
the car behind them came into range, Lisa squeezed off two shots in quick succession. A moment later, the police car slid sideways, careened off the road, and slammed into a wooden fence. She turned back around and slumped in the passenger seat.

  Dave blew out a breath of relief. “Damn, you’re good.”

  “Still think I ought to stick to chick flicks?”

  “God, no. If I catch you watching a chick flick, I’m taking away your Blockbuster card.”

  Lisa pointed ahead. “Okay. There’s the gate leading into the field.”

  “Hang on.”

  Dave smacked his foot onto the brake, swung the car around ninety degrees, then hit the gas again, crashing right through the rickety gate in a loud crunch of wood on metal. As they sped away from it, Lisa looked out the back window in amazement. The gate was kindling. She turned to Dave.

  “Now who’s been watching too many action-adventure movies?”

  “There’s something to be said for the direct approach.”

  Lisa glanced out the back window again. “Damn it!

  “What?”

  “They’re coming on foot! If they get within shooting range, we’re going to be in trouble.”

  Dave sped across the quarter-mile expanse of field, bumping along the furrows. It seemed to take forever before they reached the grove of trees where the plane was hidden. Dave brought the car to a fishtailing halt, killed the engine, and they leapt out. As he was hauling Robert out of the backseat, Lisa was pulling out her keys and opening the door to the cargo compartment. But as soon as Dave shoved Robert toward it, he started to fight back.

  Dave slammed Robert up against the side of the plane, smacking his head against it, then shoved him toward the compartment again. Still he balked, and Lisa knew that with a man his size, conventional methods weren’t going to cut it.

  She stepped forward and grabbed Robert by the arm. Spinning him around, she took him by the shoulders and kneed him right in the groin. As he doubled over and gagged in pain, together she and Dave shoved him inside the cargo compartment, then slammed the door and locked it behind him.

  “The direct approach,” Lisa said breathlessly. “ God, that felt good.”

  She’d barely said the words when a shot exploded and a bullet pinged against the plane.