Tilting at Windmills (Claire Lance)

by Geonn Cannon

  "You can't leave me here. You can't. When Garrett and the others come back and find him..."

  That stopped Lance cold. She didn't have to stretch her imagination very far to know how Roy's Neanderthal companions would see Gwen. She was a meek, frightened woman who wasn't likely to stand up to defend herself. Of the group, there was a small chance Hadley would leave her alone. But the rest of them would see her as fair game, at best. At worst, they would end up killing her before they had finished having their fun. By killing Roy, she had freed Gwen from one madman to offer her to five or six others on a silver platter.

  Don't do it, her common sense shouted at her. You're already in too deep. This is Not Your Problem. Move along. A passenger would just end up being collateral damage. She closed her eyes and pictured herself in a bar somewhere, some anonymous dive in Oklahoma or Kansas, and seeing the notice in the newspaper. Seeing Gwen's picture over the headline "Tragedy in Texas Tavern". Could she possibly live with that, knowing she had a chance to prevent it?

  "Don't leave me here," Gwen pleaded, sealing Lance's decision.

  Lance looked up at her. "Don't worry, Gwen. I won't leave you. But I need the combination to this safe if I'm going to get us both to safety."

  Apparently revitalized by the promise of escape, Gwen quickly rounded the desk and crouched next to Lance. Lance stood up to give her room to work and went back to the office door to make sure they were still alone. So far, no one had come in response to the gunshot. In her experience, people who heard one gunshot tended to dismiss it as something innocent: a car backfiring, someone backing their car into something. It was just easier to give it an innocuous explanation rather than admit something bad had just happened. She hoped that the grace period would last long enough for her and Gwen to escape.

  "Will this be enough?"

  Lance turned and was shocked to see a stack of money on the desk. There were several bundles of hundreds, piled haphazardly on the desk blotter. Lance stepped forward and picked up a stack, using her thumb to fan through it. There had to be ten thousand dollars per stack, and there were at least half a dozen stacks already on the desk. She looked past Gwen and saw that the safe was packed full with more money. "Holy hell," she whispered. "Where did all this money come from?"

  "All the farms in town, some businesses in other towns throughout Texas...it all comes through here. They launder it here because no one pays attention to small towns."

  On the way across the room, Lance got over her shock at the size of the stack. She grabbed three bundles and stuffed them into her pants pockets, grateful she had chosen cargo pants that morning. "Okay. Do you have a car?"

  Gwen stood up and walked around the desk. "El Camino. Outside. Keys are in the glove compartment."

  Lance said, "Go upstairs. Grab a few things, no more than you can carry, and meet me out front. I'm going to go over to Clara's to get my things and I'll meet you back here. Five minutes, okay?"

  "You won't leave without me, will you?"

  "No," Lance said. "I swear I won't leave without you. Now go, hurry."

  She practically shoved Gwen away and watched to make sure she went upstairs without being sidetracked by the body on the floor behind the bar. As soon as Gwen was on the stairs, Lance locked the front door to prevent Roy's discovery and give them a few more minutes head start. She found the El Camino, a pristine specimen that looked like it had been washed that very morning, and got behind the wheel.

  Lance hated that she was leaving her Mustang behind, but there was no choice. She had won it in a card game up north, and then had been forced to fight the owner in the parking lot so he would honor his bet. She had driven it for the first time with a black eye and a bloody lip, going a hundred miles an hour down the highway to avoid the cops on her tail. She loved that car. She had bled for that car.

  Still, easy come, easy go.

  She found the keys in the glove compartment as promised, started the engine and checked the mirrors. She gripped the wheel with both hands and stared out the windshield at the rusted "Four Roses Bar Employee Parking Only" sign. Her heart was pounding, and, now that she was alone and sitting still, she started to shake. She slapped the steering wheel with the butt of her hand, then gripped the wheel with both hands and rocked her entire body against the seat. She howled in anger and frustration and pent up rage as she shook the car.

  How the fuck had this happened? How had she let it happen? A whole damned year of being careful, of keeping her head down, and now this. Even if Saxe didn't have a sheriff, they would have someone smart enough to call in the state police. She rested her elbows on the wheel and cupped her face in her hands.

  No time for crying, no time for self-pity. She had to get the hell out of town before Hadley and his friends, or worse, a police officer, wandered by. For all she knew, this was the busy time of the day. She scoffed at the realization that she had barely been in Saxe, Texas, for twenty-four hours and she was already on the run for homicide.

  She steadied herself, gripped the wheel with both hands, and backed out of the parking spot. The streets were still basically deserted, although she passed one man out walking his dog near Clara's. She forced herself not to speed and kept her expression neutral, just in case anyone happened to recognize the car and realize she didn't belong in it. She parked at the curb in front of the bed-and-breakfast and left the engine running as she ran inside.

  Lance raced through the deserted lobby and took the stairs two at a time to the room she had rented. Her tank top and jeans from the day before were hanging over the shower rod where she had hung them to dry, and she shoved them into her duffel bag. Thanking her lucky stars that she hadn't taken the time to unpack, she gave the room a quick scan to make sure she wasn't leaving anything behind and was out of the room in less than thirty seconds.

  Back in the car, she shoved her duffel bag into the narrow space behind the seat and checked the street for suspicious cars. So far, she hadn't seen evidence of a police presence in town. She didn't know what vehicles Hadley or the others drove, so she could only hope that she would see them before they saw her. At the moment, the street was deserted. She could only hope it would stay that way for the next few minutes.

  She drove the El Camino back to the bar and left it idling out front. She raced inside, upstairs to the Morse's apartment. Lance crossed to the bedroom and found Gwen was still methodically packing a suitcase. She was bent over the bed, folding a dress with quaking hands.

  "What the fuck are you doing?" She pushed Gwen aside, grabbed a handful of clothes from the closet and jammed them into the suitcase. Then she yanked open a drawer and dumped all of the underwear on top. The suitcase closed, but just barely. She latched it, picked it up and thrust it into Gwen's hands. "Come on."

  Gwen didn't complain as she followed Lance down the stairs. Lance felt weighed down — by the money in her pockets, the gun in her belt, the ghost of Roy's dead body, and the responsibility of taking care of Gwen. She made a quick side trip into the office and stuffed the rest of the money into her duffel bag. Gwen watched from the doorway. "What are you...?"

  "This money is rightfully yours now," Lance said. She zipped up the now bulging bag and slung it over her shoulder as she guided Gwen to the back door. She stopped at the threshold, checking the street for police before she waved Gwen out.

  "Okay," Lance said. She ushered Gwen outside and said, "Get in the passenger side." Gwen rounded the front of the car and got inside. Lance tossed the suitcase into the back of the car.

  "Where are we going?" Gwen asked in a small voice.

  Lance looked in the rearview mirror. It would be the last look backward she allowed herself for a while. The fact that Gwen was with her was no reason to change her original plans, such as they were. She adjusted the rearview and said simply, "North. We're going north."

  #

  Only once they were in the car, driving away from the bar as quickly as possible, did Gwen's mind calm down enough to realize this was reality. Roy
was dead, killed by Lance. She saw the "Thanks for Visiting" sign coming up fast on the passenger side of the road. She was leaving town, the bar, everything behind her. She was free. She bowed her head, chin against her chest, and began to sob.

  Lance looked over, but said nothing. She probably thought that Gwen was just reacting to the shooting, some kind of delayed stress reaction.

  Gwen pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes and let the tears come. She was leaving Saxe. Roy was dead. She was free.

  Chapter Four

  Chicago

  Faye Mallory had been in the bar for forty-five minutes, but she still wasn't able to tell whether the piano music was live or piped-in. The hotel bar was a short walk from the lobby, and she could see the check-in desk in the mirror behind the bartender. She had been nursing her drinks, asking for refills only when she had sucked the ice cubes clean, and watching the reflection of the check-in desk. She was about to give up for the night when three women appeared, all dressed in identical charcoal gray business suits. Matching rolling suitcases trailed behind the three as they turned and walked toward the bar.

  Mallory held her breath as she watched the tall redhead give the handle of her suitcase to one of her friends. They laughed and the redhead waved goodbye as she stepped into the bar. Mallory grinned. Her night could prove worthwhile after all. The redheaded stewardess — or flight attendant, Mallory thought they were all called now — slid onto a stool a few places away from her with the relieved sigh of someone coming home. She motioned for the bartender and gave Mallory a polite smile.

  "Hi," Mallory said. She straightened and turned to face the woman fully. "Long flight?"

  "All the way from Sydney," the woman said. Her voice carried the lilt of an Outback native, although her complexion and hair screamed Irish. The bartender made his way over. Mallory spoke up before her new companion had a chance. She shook her glass and said, "Another for me, and whatever she wants. It's on me."

  "Oh, well, thank you," the woman said. "Whatever is on tap would be fine," she told the bartender and turned back to Mallory. Her sapphire blue eyes trailed up and down Mallory's body, taking in the dark blue jeans and the zipped-up hoodie underneath her jacket. Mallory's hair was black, a little curly from the weather, and her bangs were just barely long enough to hide her eyebrows.

  The stewardess apparently liked what she saw, because she put her elbow on the bar and rested her chin against her knuckles, then smiled. "So, why the free drink, chick? Not that I mind, but I'm curious. Did a flight attendant save your life once?"

  "No. But one might save it tonight," Mallory said. She arched her eyebrow as the bartender put the drinks down in front of them. "Thanks." The bartender shuffled off and Mallory took a casual sip of her beer. Couldn't look too eager. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip and said, "So, do you have a name?"

  The flight attendant ran her finger around the rim of her glass. "Kelly."

  "Hi, Kelly. I'm Faye." She picked up her drink and moved a few stools to the left. She sat next to Kelly, leaned in and slid her hand across Kelly's thigh. Kelly's uniform included sheer white stockings and her leg was warm against Mallory's hand. She pressed hard against the tight muscle of the flight attendant's thigh and then slid it higher, under the hem of her dress. Kelly parted her legs with a gasp and arched an eyebrow. Mallory curled her tongue in the shell of Kelly's ear and whispered, "I would like to fuck you tonight, Kelly. You interested?"

  Kelly shivered and took a sip of her beer. She swallowed with a sigh, looked at her watch and said, "I think that could be arranged, yeah."

  Mallory grinned.

  #

  Mallory had done a lot of trial and error over the years, and had finally deduced that the safest place to pick up a one-night stand was a hotel bar. Everyone you met was passing through, on their way somewhere else, so there were no strings. There was little chance of running into someone she knew, an even smaller chance of running into someone she had already spent the night with.

  Mallory led Kelly to the elevator and calmly pressed the up button. While they waited for the car to arrive, Mallory turned and looked at her companion for the evening. Kelly was about five-ten, tall for a woman and about equal to Mallory's height. Her red hair was long and curly, her skin alabaster pale. Her dark uniform was identical to several Mallory had seen in this lobby in the past, the white collar of the shirt fanned out over the lapels of the jacket.

  Mallory reached out and fingered the lapel, letting the back of her finger brush against Kelly's breast. "Do any of those pins mean you're a member of the Mile High Club?"

  "I don't need a pin, love," Kelly said. The elevator doors opened and Kelly grabbed the lapels of Mallory's coat. "I just renew my membership every few thousand miles."

  As the elevator door slid shut behind them, Mallory pushed Kelly back against the wall, bracing her hands on either side of the flight attendant's head. Kelly opened her lips and sucked Mallory's tongue into her mouth, as her hands fought with the catch of Mallory's jeans.

  Mallory broke the kiss and pushed Kelly's hands away. "Easy," she said. She wrapped her hands around Kelly's wrists and lifted her hands over her head. "This is just a meet-and-greet right now. Save the heavy stuff for the hotel room." She kept Kelly's hands pinned over her head and bent in to kiss her neck.

  Kelly groaned and hooked her leg against Mallory's hip. "I just spent over a day in the air with a bunch of sweaty, whiny businessmen. Pardon me for being a little...eager?"

  Mallory grinned and the elevator dinged to announce they had reached their floor. She took Kelly's hand and led her into the vacant hallway. It was late, close to ten, and most of the doors they passed had Do Not Disturb signs hanging on the knobs. Mallory fished in the pocket of her hoodie for her card, swept it through the scanner, and pushed the door open. She turned around and backed into the dark room, drawing Kelly inside with her.

  When the door closed, the room was thrown into almost total darkness. The shades were drawn and there was just a weak hint of light from the streetlights three floors below. Mallory's hand slipped out of Kelly's and her weight disappeared from Kelly's side. Kelly heard the rustle of clothing hitting the floor, and then silence. Suddenly, she was nervous. Lots of other girls had told stories about being lured to a hotel room by a sexy guy, or gal, as the case might be, but she had thought them to be urban legends.

  Suddenly Mallory's weight returned. She pressed tight against Kelly from behind and wrapped one arm around her shoulder, the other around her waist. Kelly gasped and leaned against Mallory for support. "Don't be scared," came a whisper from over her left shoulder. She brought her hand up and brushed something soft against Kelly's cheek. "Do you know what this is?" The feather-light touch moved to her lips.

  "No..."

  Mallory's fingers pressed the soft object between Kelly's lips as soon as they parted to speak. She moaned and used her tongue to keep it from going too deep and gagging her. She bit down on it, nipping Mallory's fingers in the process, and realized that whatever it was, it was slightly moist. She reached back and pressed her hands against Mallory's naked thighs. The rustling she had heard was Mallory stripping down. Mallory kissed Kelly's neck. "They're my panties."

  Kelly moaned and shivered. Mallory dropped to a crouch and let her hands trace the curves under Kelly's uniform. She knelt on the carpet and pressed her hands to Kelly's stomach and her thighs, moving down to her legs and letting her fingers trace over her pantyhose. She kissed Kelly's ass through the thick material of her skirt at the same time her hands moved underneath the hem. Her legs felt silky smooth, and Mallory ran her palms over muscular thighs before moving up to hook her thumbs in the elastic of the pantyhose. "You've got my panties in your mouth. I think it's only fair I get yours." She pressed her face into the small of Kelly's back, inhaling her natural scent and a hint of sweat.

  Mallory eased the pantyhose down Kelly's legs. Kelly obediently lifted her left foot, then the right, and stepped out of them. She turn
ed around and looked down at the silhouette of Mallory on the floor in front of her. Willing to play along, she kept the panties in her mouth and pulled the front of her skirt up with one hand. She ran the fingers of the other behind Mallory's head and shoved it forward.

  Mallory moaned and kissed the curly patch of hair between Kelly's legs. She slid her hands up the back of Kelly's legs, taking a moment to tickle the sensitive flesh behind her knees before cupping her ass. She opened her mouth wide and pressed her tongue against the folds of Kelly's sex then dragged the flat of her tongue back, finding and teasing Kelly's clit as she passed. Kelly groaned loudly, her fingers curling in Mallory's hair as she threw her head back.

  Mallory closed her lips around Kelly's hard clit and hummed. She massaged with her fingers, gently kneading the flesh of Kelly's ass. She pulled her head back and kissed Kelly's thighs. "You taste fucking fantastic... Can't wait to eat you all up."

  Kelly groaned and Mallory slid up her body. She kissed Kelly's stomach, her breasts through her uniform blouse, and then pulled her close. She pulled her panties from Kelly's mouth with her teeth, spat them to the side, and kissed Kelly hard. Kelly whimpered and cupped Mallory's breasts. She pushed Mallory until the back of her legs hit the edge of the mattress. "You gonna eat me all up, huh? Izzat a promise?"

  "Mm," Mallory sighed and turned them around. "If you're a good girl."

  Kelly laughed as she was shoved down onto the mattress. "And if I'm bad?"

  "Then I'll eat you twice," Mallory promised.

  She climbed on top of Kelly's supine body and straddled her hips. Kelly put her hands on Mallory's thighs and traced the length of her body — up over the curve of her hips, over her flat stomach, pausing to pinch the hard buds of her nipples. Mallory arched her back with a deep sigh as Kelly pinched and rolled the nipples between her thumbs and forefingers. She grunted. "Harder...Kelly, pinch them harder..."