Nope.
And anyway, I wasn’t feeling the heat in my feet…
I sucked in a breath when he pulled me closer, the sculpted muscles of his arms rippling under my hands. His hot lips traced down my neck, and I twined my fingers in his thick, glossy hair while his kisses burned their way across the top of my cleavage.
God damn, maybe I should stay for a little while. After all, how many opportunities like this do you get in a lifetime?
I refocused with a tremendous effort of will. I only had one chance to give Kane the slip, and this was it. Maybe I could call Dante later…
I ran my fingers down his perfect chest and took hold of the front of his shirt to pull him gently away from the window and further into the house, my small backpack dangling from the fingers of my other hand. From my previous life as a draftsperson, I knew these older bungalows had a predictable floor plan. I had expected a bathroom and bedrooms down the hallway, and I wasn’t disappointed.
Scratch that. I was disappointed as hell that I wasn’t going to get any dark chocolate tonight. But at least the floor plan was doing it for me.
“Hold that thought,” I whispered as I pulled away from Dante’s kiss and slipped into the bathroom.
I closed the door behind me, and heard him move further down the hallway. A few moments later, soft music began to play. Perfect. That would cover the sounds of my escape.
As I’d expected, the house had been built before exhaust fans were common, so the bathroom had a generously sized window. I wasted no time opening it and removing the screen.
I hesitated, swaying slightly in the bathtub while the cool night breeze blew around me. The distant, garbled voice of better judgement suggested I should probably sober up before making decisions like this. A much more powerful and convincing voice suggested that Dark Chocolate Dante would make a scrumptious dessert.
But this would be my only chance to contact my aunt.
And I had to know.
I placed my cell phone on the vanity and sighed. If I didn’t leave it behind, it would give away my movements as soon as Kane started tracking it again. If he wasn’t already tracking it.
I tossed my backpack out the window and scrambled up, hoping the thump of my knees against the wall would be concealed by the music. Teetering on the sill, I paused. The music was all sensuous horns and throbbing beat. Goddamn.
I jumped out into the dark back yard.
My ankle twisted on the soft ground and I bit my lip until the urge to swear subsided along with the pain. Then I hoisted my backpack onto my shoulder and faded into the back alley.
Zigzagging through the pitch-dark silence of the alleys, I scuttled across the lighted streets until the sound of traffic led me to a main thoroughfare. I fervently wished I’d thought to bring my hoodie for warmth and to conceal my hair. The evening air was damn chilly, especially with half my boobs hanging out. I pulled on a baggy sweatshirt from my backpack and made my cautious way out into the lights.
An all-night convenience store beckoned, and I approached its bright lights cautiously. Sure enough, it had an ATM. I hesitated, then shrugged. Whatever. As soon as Kane realized I’d bolted he’d check my bank accounts, but this withdrawal would only tell him what he already knew: I’d run from Dante’s and withdrawn as much cash as the ATM would allow. He wouldn’t know where I’d gone from here.
Cash safely stowed in my wallet, I dove back into the safe darkness of the alleys. I was exhausted, but I had to get clear of the city before the alarm was raised. I’d spend the rest of my life locked down if Kane caught me now.
The last of the alcohol burned out of my system while I hiked along, and I realized I hadn’t planned this well at all. Hell, never mind ‘well’. I hadn’t planned it, period.
I didn’t know any of the local transit routes, and I doubted if they ran in the middle of the night anyway. I briefly considered getting to the bus station and taking a Greyhound out of town, but they required ID, and that would give away my destination.
“Dammit!” I leaned against somebody’s back fence, trying to pull my thoughts together. How the hell was I going to get from here to Victoria, BC without leaving a trail? I couldn’t take any kind of public transportation. I had no idea how to steal a car, and that would attract too much attention anyway. Hitchhiking was untraceable, but it was too dangerous for a woman alone.
I straightened slowly, triumph sending a slow grin to my face. Hitchhiking might be dangerous for a woman alone, but I wasn’t alone. I had the best companion a girl could want.
My grin widened as I reached for my Glock in its ankle holster. Hitchhiking wasn’t going to be dangerous for me at all.
I hauled my waist holster out of the backpack and transferred the Glock to it, arranging my sweatshirt over top. Ready to roll.
My smile faded when I realized I still needed to get to the TransCanada Highway, and I had no idea how to do that at three o’clock in the morning. A taxi would be easiest for me, but I was afraid to try. I knew exactly how dedicated a hunter Kane was. Sooner or later, he’d check the taxi companies. If it was sooner, I’d be out of luck.
I wandered aimlessly down the alley, racking my brain. At last I drifted to a halt, struck by an idea. It wasn’t ideal, but it would work. I headed down the alley with renewed purpose, peeking into each back yard as I went.
Fortunately, October had been unseasonably warm. I had only covered a couple of blocks before I found what I was searching for: a bicycle leaning against a back deck.
I hovered outside the yard, my heart in my mouth. I’d never stolen anything in my life. What if I got caught? I peered around the dark yard, searching for signs of a dog and making sure the bike wasn’t chained up. With a last glance around the alley, I let myself quietly in the back gate, hands shaking.
I sneaked across the yard, hugging the fence, and finally stood beside the bike, panting shallowly. Oh, God, I didn’t think I could do this.
I jittered there for a moment, trying to screw up some courage. Jeez, suck it up, woman! I’d faced down captivity, torture, and death. Surely I could manage to steal one lousy bike.
But I hadn’t been committing a crime with the other stuff. This was against the law.
A dog barked a couple of doors down, and I twitched in the shadows. Goddammit, just do it already!
I offered a silent prayer for forgiveness to whoever might be listening, and quickly wheeled the bike out to the back alley. Then I leaped on and pedalled wildly, leaving the barking dog far behind.
I soon discovered a bike path and shot down it, slamming on the brakes when I realized it was pitch dark down there. Another serious flaw in my plan. I’d hoped to use the network of bike paths, but they were unlit. I couldn’t see enough to ride safely.
Sweating and trembling, I got off the bike and leaned against the fence until my heart rate stabilized. Then I turned the bike around and began to pedal the long miles through the quiet streets toward the highway.
It was still dark by six AM. For the last several miles, I’d been fantasizing about dispatching the designer of the bicycle seat to an eternal hell astride a dull carving knife. My butt was screaming agony by the time I finally pulled up beside the highway on the west side of town.
I was shaking with fatigue, hunger, and the knowledge that in a couple of hours, maybe less, Kane would discover I was gone. I had hoped to be out of the city by now.
I didn’t even dare go into a gas station or convenience store for a snack. Surely he’d have no way of finding out I’d been there, but I couldn’t bring myself to enter a well-lit public place where there might be surveillance cameras.
I leaned the bicycle up against a streetlight and limped away, resisting the urge to publicly massage my aching ass. Westbound traffic was already picking up, and I scanned it for police cars before sticking out my thumb.
To my surprise, a car stopped almost immediately. The passenger window hummed open, and I leaned in to survey the ordinary-looking middle-aged driver.
He gave me a friendly smile. “Where are you headed?”
I hesitated. “Banff,” I lied.
“Well, I’m only going to Cochrane, but I can take you to the truck stop at the turnoff.”
“Thanks!”
I hopped in. The Cochrane turnoff was only about twenty miles out of town, but at least it got me beyond the city limits. And if I could catch a ride with a long-haul trucker from there, it would make for an easy trip.
The driver glanced over as we reached highway speed. “What’s in Banff?”
“Um… Just some friends.”
He frowned over at me. “Hitchhiking’s a pretty dangerous way to get there.”
“I know.”
I sent a psychic message in his direction. Shut up, buddy.
No such luck.
“Don’t you have anybody to take you?” he persisted.
“No.”
“Nobody’s going to miss you?”
“Um…” I wasn’t sure I liked the sound of that question. “No.”
“Are you a working girl?”
I didn’t like the phrasing of that, either. “No.”
“What do you do for a living?”
Jesus, buddy, shut the fuck up. I ignored the question and gazed out the window instead.
“What’s your name?”
“Um… Jane.”
“Nice to meet you, Jane, I’m Ron.”
“Hi, Ron.”
Thank God I only had to go a few more miles with this guy. My head pounded and fine tremors of nervousness and fatigue coursed through my body.
“Are you hungry, Jane?”
“Uh… yeah.”
“If you come with me to Cochrane, I’ll buy you breakfast.”
“No, thanks.”
“I’ll get you something nice. You shouldn’t travel on an empty stomach.”
Back off, buddy, for chrissakes!
I held my voice calm and level. “I’ll get something at the truck stop. Thanks anyway.”
His left hand slipped down beside his seat, and I tensed. What the hell was he doing?
“Are you in some kind of trouble, Jane?”
“No.” I watched him out of the corner of my eye, ready to react. Adrenaline pumped through my body.
“I can help if you are.”
“No, I’m fine. Thanks. Actually, why don’t you just let me out here.”
He frowned. “We’re not there yet.”
“I know. I… I’ve changed my mind. I’m going to go back to the city. Stop and let me out, please.”
He slowed the car, still groping down by his left side. I abandoned all pretence of casual conversation and watched him overtly. He smiled as he pulled over and stopped, and I reached for the door handle. The door wouldn’t open. Goddamn electric door locks!
I scrabbled at the unfamiliar door panel, searching for the button.
“Wait. Not so fast,” he said.
I made a grab for my gun as his left hand appeared, holding a black object.
At the last second I aborted the movement when I realized what he was holding.
“Take this, Jane. Read it. If you’re in trouble, if you feel alone in the world, remember that Jesus loves you.” He handed me a small Bible, and I smothered a spurt of hysterical laughter. “You’re never alone when you have Jesus,” he added kindly.
“Uh, thanks.” I located the door lock at last and tumbled out of the car, trembling.
He lifted a hand in farewell and pulled away. I stared at the Bible in my hand and started to laugh helplessly, half sobbing while I braced my elbows on my shaking knees. Jesus Christ.
Literally.
My ass hurt like a bitch, it had taken me all goddamn night to get ten miles out of town, and I was starving, exhausted, and scared shitless. And I had a Glock and a Bible.
Hell, what could possibly go wrong?
Chapter 12
I straightened and eyed the Bible uncertainly. I almost left it in the ditch, but I love books too much to abuse them. Besides, it seemed disrespectful. I sighed and stuffed it into my backpack instead.
The sky was brightening, and I stumbled along beside the road, trying to force my burnt-out brain to come up with a plan. I needed a more convincing story. Sooner or later, I’d have to admit to somebody that I was headed for the west coast.
Vehicles rocketed by, buffeting me with their slipstream. I briefly considered walking to the truck stop, but I didn’t think I could manage ten miles. A wave of fear washed over me when a black SUV appeared, but it didn’t slow as it passed me.
At last, I spotted an approaching tractor-trailer unit and stuck out my thumb. It barrelled past me without slowing, and I seriously considered relocating my gun back to the ankle holster so I could take off my sweatshirt and show some cleavage despite the chill. I needed a ride, pronto.
I was still thinking, walking backward with my thumb extended, when another semi appeared on the horizon. I put on a smile and waved as it drew closer.
This time, the big diesel snorted and grumbled as the driver downshifted, and the rig pulled to a stop a couple of hundred yards past me. The air brakes hissed as I trotted up.
The passenger door opened, and the driver leaned out. “Where’re you headed?”
“West coast.”
“Your lucky day.” He pushed the door open, and I clambered up.
We appraised each other as I settled into the passenger seat. He was middle-aged and out of shape, with a generous gut straining a slightly grubby-looking T-shirt. A rip in the shirt revealed a pasty-skinned, hairy belly. Baggy, faded jeans riding too low. Lucky he was sitting down. He’d have a bad case of plumber’s butt for sure. Untidy waves made his too-long grizzled hair stick out at odd angles, and a few days worth of grey stubble adorned his face. The cab smelled faintly of onions, or possibly body odour.
His pale blue eyes travelled over my face, politely stopping around chin-level. I must have passed muster, because he smiled and stuck out his hand. “Dave Shore.”
“Hi, Dave, nice to meet you. I’m Jane.” I shook his hand, and he turned his attention back to the road, winding up through the gears.
After a few miles, I was just starting to relax when he glanced over and spoke as he began to downshift. “Stopping for breakfast. You coming in?”
Shit. The tension slammed back into my muscles. I was doomed to travel this friggin’ highway ten miles at a time. I couldn’t suppress a jerky glance at my watch. Eight o’clock. Kane would have waited all night outside Dante’s place. Right about now, he’d be finding out I was gone.
For the first time, I seriously considered what he’d do. He’d be furious. And he’d be in a lot of trouble with Stemp. If I didn’t get to talk to Aunt Minnie before Kane found me, I’d never get another chance. I found myself leaning over to peer in the side mirror, watching for a black SUV. No, that was stupid. He wouldn’t pick up my trail that quickly.
“Jane?”
I started and turned to meet Dave’s faded eyes. “Sorry. Um… If I give you some money, can you grab me something?”
He turned his attention back to the rig as we pulled to a halt outside the truck stop. The air brakes hissed, and he turned to study me, his unkempt eyebrows drawn together. “You got a reason?”
“I, uh, I just… don’t want to be seen.”
“You running from the cops?”
“No!” The word jerked out of me with guilty emphasis as I remembered the stolen bicycle.
“What then?”
“Listen, Dave, never mind. I’m not hungry. I’ll just wait for you.”
“Bull. You talk now, or you get outta my truck.”
I bit back tears of stress and fatigue as I swiped shaking hands over my face. I refuse to cry in public, dammit. “Dave, please.” I swallowed hard to get rid of the quaver in my voice. “Look, just…”
He shrugged. “Your choice. Get out.”
“I’m running from my ex-boyfriend,” I blurted. Closest thing to the truth
I could manage. Our friendship had been a lie, and any trust we’d had for each other was shattered beyond repair now. I sank my head into my hands with a groan. “God, he’s going to kill me.”
“What?”
I looked up at Dave’s wide eyes, my sleep-deprived brain replaying my words. I hadn’t meant that literally, although an ugly chill shook me when I thought it through. There might be more truth to that statement than I knew.
I went with it. “If he finds me, he’ll kill me. I’ve been up all night, trying to get on the highway without being seen.” This time I didn’t try to hide the tremor in my voice. “When he finds out I’m gone, he’ll come after me, and I’m only twenty miles out of town. I can’t let anybody see me.”
“You better not be lying.”
I clasped my trembling hands. “I’m dead serious.”
“Why don’t you call the cops?”
“What are they going to do? By the time they can do anything, I’ll already be dead.”
He examined my face at length, his eyes boring into mine. Then he eyed my shaking hands and my small backpack, and gave a single nod as if coming to a decision.
“Okay.”
Relief flooded me. “Thank you,” I stammered as I fumbled into my wallet for a twenty.
“What do you want?”
“I don’t care. I’ll eat anything.”
He paused, one hand on the door handle. “If you want, you can go in the sleeper so nobody sees you sitting here.” He gestured to the alcove behind the seats.
“Thank you,” I repeated. My trembling knees almost gave way as I stood, and I caught myself on the back of the seat.
“You okay?” I thought I saw a flash of concern on his face.
“Fine. Just tired and hungry.”
He shook his head, and I barely heard his mutter as he opened the door to climb out. “I must be nuts.”
Through a sliver of view from the sleeper, I watched him stump across the parking lot with the stiff gait of a man who suffers from chronic lower-back pain. He turned once to survey the truck with a frown before turning away and hitching up his jeans to mercifully hide a truly nasty butt-crack. I slumped on the tiny bench seat in the sleeper, gratitude swelling in my heart. He was possibly the most beautiful man I’d ever seen.
Tell Me No Spies Page 9
