Escape with Me

by Janice Sims

  “You sound peculiar, Lana. Is something wrong?”

  “I’ll explain everything the next time I see you,” she promised. “But I do appreciate your help. I’m happy to be the newest ex-wife of Jeremy Corday.”

  “Are you available tonight?” Grant asked. “I’d like to take you out to dinner to celebrate.”

  “I’m not in town,” Lana told him. “My dad had a health scare, and I’m in North Carolina.”

  “Oh,” said Grant, the concern evident in his tone, “I hope he’ll be all right.”

  “He’s going to be fine,” Lana assured him. “Thanks for the invitation, though.”

  Grant was silent for a moment. “Um, okay. I guess I’d better go.”

  Lana had the distinct feeling that there was more Grant wanted to say. It hadn’t escaped her notice over the years that he found her attractive. Maybe since she was now a free agent he wanted to take their relationship to the next level.

  She had no intention of encouraging him in that direction. She liked Grant but she knew she could never give his interest the attention it deserved.

  “All right,” she said, keeping her tone light. “You take care, Grant.”

  “You, too,” he said, before hanging up.

  Lana set the phone on the seat, and put the car in Drive again. What she needed was a good long run, not a good long drive. She needed to sweat this mood right out of her body.

  When she got back to the house, her father and Ten were already there.

  They were in the living room watching a basketball game. Lana tossed Ten his keys as she walked through the living room on the way upstairs to change into her running gear. “Nice ride,” she said.

  Ten looked up at her hopefully. He opened his mouth to say something.

  “I’m still mad at you,” she informed him icily, before running upstairs.

  “It’s not time yet,” Aaron advised Ten, then went back to watching the game.

  Ten slumped on the couch. “She hates me.”

  “So? Haven’t you ever been hated by a woman before? It’s a rite of passage for men. Suck it up!”

  Aaron stuffed popcorn in his mouth, and chewed thoughtfully. Lunch hadn’t satisfied his hunger. His hospital stay had made him feel as if he were coming off a hunger strike. “Take it this way, son. She wouldn’t be so mad at you if she didn’t like you. Women don’t waste that kind of anger on someone they don’t care about.”

  Ten sat back on the couch and relaxed a bit. Did Lana have feelings for him? His heartbeat quickened at the thought. This was so unlike him. He was normally able to keep his personal life and his work separate, never giving a thought to the desirability of female subjects who were under his protection. Now this hardheaded woman was getting under his skin. He had to man up and take control of this assignment before it all blew up in his face.

  * * *

  Upstairs Lana was fuming. Bowser had abandoned the men and followed her to her bedroom where he sat in the doorway watching as she began pulling off clothes and tossing the pieces onto the bed. “Divorced!” she mumbled. “How am I supposed to feel about that? I’m legally free of a man who obviously didn’t want to be with me, anyway.

  “Oh, no, wait. He fled because he was going to get sent to prison not because he wanted to get away from you. If not for his legal problems, you probably would have spent the next ten years believing you were married to a man who really loved you. Foolish!”

  She was wriggling into a sports bra as she continued, “I should be happy I’m rid of him. The world is mine. I can do whatever I want, go wherever I want, date whomever I want. Or just entirely give up men—who needs ’em?”

  In a van parked on the public side of the beach, Pete was listening in. “Her divorce came through,” he announced to his partners, Carrie Jenkins and Eduardo Como. “She’s officially off men.”

  Carrie, a tall blonde with brown eyes, chuckled. “Been there, done that.”

  “You can do me anytime, Jenkins,” said Eduardo, wiggling his thick brows in a seductive manner.

  “Bite me, Como,” she told him.

  “Where?” Eduardo returned.

  “Shut up, guys, I’m listening here,” Pete said.

  In her bedroom, Lana had suited up. She did a couple of leaps in the air to loosen up her calf muscles. She looked down at Bowser. “Wanna go for a run, fella?”

  Bowser barked, and followed her downstairs. They made a quick detour to the kitchen for her fanny pack. In the living room she found her dad and Ten exactly where she’d left them, turning into a couple of eggplants in front of the TV.

  “I’m going for a run,” she announced. She and Bowser headed for the front door.

  “Not without me,” Ten said, springing up from the couch. He was already wearing running shoes and a track suit. He pulled off his jacket. It was warm outside. The white sleeveless T-shirt he had on under the jacket would do.

  Lana ignored him as she did warm-up exercises on the porch. Ten followed her example and stretched along with her. “So, how long have you been running?” he asked to see if she’d cooled off while she’d been upstairs.

  No such luck. Lana cut him with her eyes. “Practically all my life,” she said coldly. With her eyes narrowing further, she asked, “Was anything you told me the truth?”

  “Everything I told you was the truth except my name’s Isles, not West. I’m not a filmmaker and I don’t live in D.C. I live in San Francisco.”

  “Agent Tennison Isles from the San Francisco field office,” Lana said derisively. “You’ve probably been on Jeremy’s case from the beginning. Why is it I’ve never met you? I’ve met several other agents from that office.”

  “I supervise my team. I chose to remain unknown to you until now and I’m here because this was my idea, and my supervisor told me to run with it.”

  Ten knew that off in the van, Pete would be listening but he didn’t care.

  They’d worked with Ten on a number of assignments and he’d been all business. Ten was sure they called him a tight-ass behind his back. A former marine, he had more discipline in his little finger than they had in their entire bodies put together. Now they would see that he had an Achilles’ heel. And her name was Lana Corday.

  On the porch, Lana was doing calf stretches. “So it was your idea to get my father involved?”

  “We thought he’d be more willing than you would be,” Ten told her frankly.

  She laughed shortly. “Well you pegged him right. He never liked Jeremy.”

  “What father doesn’t have a problem with the man his daughter marries?”

  Lana shot him an irritated look. “Jeremy got the jump on you that first night, didn’t he? You didn’t suspect he was that close.”

  “You’re right,” Ten admitted, “and I’m sorry about that.”

  Lana breathed deeply and let it out. It struck her how close she had been to getting seriously hurt. If Jeremy were more ruthless he might have tortured her until she gave him what he’d come for instead of running away once he was discovered.

  “This case isn’t turning out the way you planned,” she deduced.

  “That’s an understatement,” Ten admitted.

  Finished stretching, Lana ran down the front steps. Bowser ran ahead of her, leading the way down the beach toward the Easterbrook house. “I’d like some alone time,” Lana tossed over her shoulder at Ten. She just wanted to grieve her lost marriage in her own way.

  “I can’t let you do that, Lana.” He stubbornly jogged alongside her.

  “You can’t keep up with me,” she said, her tone deadly serious.

  “I’m an ex-marine. I can run you into the ground,” Ten warned.

  “Okay, Mr. T-bone steak,” Lana said with a smirk. She had barely had the chance to get started on her roast chic
ken before Ten had spoiled her appetite by confessing who he really was. On the other hand, he’d probably eaten that entire steak after she’d disappeared with his car. He was a man wasn’t he?

  One thing a runner knew was that you didn’t run on a full stomach. Not any great distance, anyway. She was going to run him into the ground.

  So they ran.

  During the first mile, talking to each other was no problem. Lana told him about the Outer Banks and why due to the manner in which the barrier islands jutted out into the Atlantic Ocean, that the area was prone to violent storms.

  As they picked up pace along the oceanside, Lana looked out into the water. “Many ships had gone down in the Outer Banks, many lives lost. Of course that kind of history can brew some juicy ghost stories about pirates and hapless sailors and fishermen. Dad used to tell me one when I was kid about Blackbeard’s ghost. He would hide from the authorities near here in a place called Ocracoke Island. He died near there. Ocracoke’s still around. Dad said on stormy nights you could see Blackbeard’s ship fighting the waves and him aboard, defying God and daring the lightning to strike him.” She laughed as she ran. “I used to dream I was on that ship with Blackbeard and he would chase me all over it, trying to slice me up with his hook. I know, I know, I was mixing him up with Captain Hook from Peter Pan but I was just a kid.”

  By the fifth mile Ten could no longer carry on a conversation. In fact, he felt as if his lunch was about to reappear. Bowser had called it quits after mile two, whined and turned back toward home. Ten wished he were as sensible as the dog. Lana fairly glowed with energy. She was sweating just as he was. She wasn’t a superwoman. But she looked as if she could run another ten miles with little effort.

  “Tell the truth,” he gasped. “You’ve been training for a marathon.”

  “Nah,” she said. “But I have been putting in an average of about fifty miles a week lately. It’s that bastard, Jeremy. I run more when I’m upset.”

  “And I upset you today,” Ten concluded. “I’m sorry, and so are my lungs.”

  He stopped abruptly, bent over and threw up.

  Lana ran in place for a while, then gave it up and tried to approach him to offer help but he held out his hand, keeping her at a distance. There was no pretty way to vomit. And he didn’t want her sympathy at that moment.

  Lana felt terrible. She’d pushed him on purpose just to prove her point—you shouldn’t eat a big meal and run afterward.

  Lana always carried water in her fanny pack when she ran. She opened the bottle, and handed it to Ten once he’d finished heaving.

  “I’m sorry,” she said softly and sincerely.

  Ten gratefully accepted the water bottle, took a swig, swished it around in his mouth, and then spit it out. He looked at her and smiled weakly. “It’s my fault for being such a competitive jerk. I didn’t want to admit you’re a better athlete than I am.” He kicked sand over the vomit, after which they began walking back in the direction of the house.

  “Maybe I’m a better runner,” Lana allowed, “but I bet you can kick my butt with that ex-marine martial arts stuff you must know.”

  “Oh, sure,” Ten groaned, “like I’m going to beat up a lady.”

  Lana laughed delightedly. The sight and sound made Ten feel better. “Does this mean you’ve forgiven me after watching me puke my guts out?”

  “That’s a possibility,” Lana said noncommittally.

  When they got back to the house, Ten reached out and grabbed Lana’s arm before she took a step onto the front porch. “Lana, there’s one more thing. While we were picking up your father at the hospital my team planted listening devices in the house.”

  Lana’s eyes held a startled look. “My bedroom, too?” she croaked.

  “Yes,” he said. “Sorry, but it’s a means of keeping you safe. If I’d had it done earlier, we would’ve been there for you when Jeremy broke in.”

  “Then you’re the last of your team to find out I’m divorced. My lawyer phoned after I borrowed your car. I was upset and was talking to myself—I thought—while I changed into my running clothes. Now I know I wasn’t the only person in the room.”

  “I’m sorry,” Ten said again, gazing into her upturned face. “So I wasn’t the only one who upset you.”

  For Lana, Ten’s revelation had paled in comparison to the emotional impact the knowledge that her marriage, something she had believed in with all her heart in the beginning had ended so messily. She didn’t even get the chance to face Jeremy over a negotiation table in a lawyer’s office. There was no closure to be had, just his capture, which would have to be closure enough.

  “Stop apologizing,” she said, forcing herself to smile. “You’re just doing your job.”

  “Just one more sorry,” Ten said with sincerity. “I’m sorry your marriage had to end the way it did.”

  “Thanks, Ten,” Lana said, genuinely moved. She stood smiling up at him for a few moments. Then she unlocked the door, and they went inside. “Daddy, we’re back!”

  Aaron was nowhere to be seen. Lana found a note on the kitchen counter: Your old English teacher says I’ve been a bad boy and deserve to be punished. Don’t wait up for me.

  Lana checked the time. It was two forty-five. She handed the note to Ten. “Three hours out of the hospital and he has a date!”

  Ten laughed. “Go, Aaron.”

  Lana laughed, too, then sighed and leaned against the counter. She met Ten’s eyes. “There’s something else we need to talk about. I still think we have a chance of catching Jeremy.”

  “Yes, we can still catch him,” Ten agreed. “We’d like you to cooperate with us, Lana, but you can’t go all gung ho on us and act without thinking. You will wind up getting hurt.”

  She lowered her gaze, her expression contrite. “For a while there I did get a high off the thought of getting revenge. I apologize for my behavior. I’m willing to follow orders now—whatever it takes to bring him down.” She met his gaze again. “I do have a suggestion, though—something you all might not have thought of because you don’t know him as well as I do.”

  “I’m listening,” Ten encouraged her.

  “Jeremy’s a methodical man. Think about how he broke in here without my being aware of it until Bowser woke me. There I was in a pitch-black room with him while he searched the room obviously using night-vision glasses because how else would he have been able to see in the dark? He’s cagey. It takes a lot of smarts and calculation to cheat investors out of half a billion dollars. He thinks carefully before he makes a move. Honestly, the only time I’ve ever seen him lose his cool was when another man showed me too much attention in his presence. He’s gets very aggressive. He has to let the other guy know he’s encroaching on his territory and he doesn’t like his territory being encroached upon.”

  “Are you saying you want me to publicly romance you in order to flush him out?”

  “That’s what I’m saying,” she boldly stated. With that she went to the refrigerator and withdrew a couple bottles of spring water. She handed one to Ten. “Give it some thought, and let me know if it’s a go. I’ve got to take a shower.”

  Ten watched her flounce out of the room, her butt a work of art in those tight shorts, her long legs exquisitely shaped. This case was getting more interesting by the hour.

  Chapter 7

  Jeremy was staying at a place called the Buccaneer Motel. It wasn’t the Hilton. He no longer had Hilton money. But it was clean. The suite he was in came with a kitchenette, which was good because he didn’t go out to eat much and he did his shopping late at night. His mode of transportation these days was a nondescript sedan he’d paid cash for that had more rust on it than paint. He’d blown a pile of money renting a boat and a Jet Ski the other night. But that all paled in comparison to the amount of money he’d had to shell out for the private detect
ive. Luckily, the detective still owed him several hours of surveillance work.

  He’d been waiting for Lana for more than seven months. What had kept her so long? She was critical to the success of his plans. He figured she would immediately run into her father’s arms after such an emotional blow. After he’d sabotaged the yacht and disappeared he had spent a few days at a loyal friend’s cabin in the Northern California woods. Then he’d driven to the Outer Banks in a used car he’d paid cash for. A fugitive couldn’t expect unlimited help from a friend even if they’d known each other since they were both juvenile delinquents. The friend had gone straight and couldn’t risk the life he’d made with his wife and children for the likes of him. The loan of the cabin had been the extent of his friend’s generosity. The good news was Jeremy wouldn’t need anyone’s help if he could get his hand on a certain item. With it, he would have access to two hundred and fifty million dollars. It was in the form of diamonds. The unique and wonderful thing about quality diamonds was that their intrinsic value remained stable, unlike cash. But you couldn’t use diamonds like currency. Jeremy already had a German buyer who was going to compensate him fifty percent of their worth, once he got hold of them. He would lose quite a bit of money but still he would be able to live the rest of his life on one hundred and twenty-five million.

  He was lying in bed now with the TV turned up loud in an attempt to block out his thoughts. Lana. He’d stood there gazing at her after he’d broken into Aaron’s house and headed up to her room. Then he’d forced himself to get on with the search for what he’d come for. After searching the room, with no results, he had gone back to look at her one last time. He’d wanted to touch her. Standing so close to her warm body had given him sexual thoughts. She always had that effect on him whenever they were near a bed. He’d wanted to climb into bed with her and make love. But suddenly the dog had woken, and started growling causing Lana to stir in her sleep, and she accidentally touched him. An electric charge swept through him. The dog snapped at his leg and got a mouthful of trouser instead. Still, he lingered a moment longer, looking longingly at Lana who cowered on the other side of the bed, afraid of being attacked by an unknown assailant. He wanted to tell her he’d never hurt her. But self-preservation made him run.