"Oh," she said flatly.
"Get over it. I'm not being vain. Hell, I don't care if I shave or not, but we will need money. We've probably got a long way to walk before morning. By then you'll be so hot and sweaty you won't give a damn about what I'm carrying," he said.
"Use the phone and call the emergency number," she said.
"No thank you. I'm not trusting anyone again. FBI can kiss my cowboy ass," he said.
She stood up, dusted the seat of her jeans, and put her hand in his. He held on to the strap of his leather shaving kit with his other hand. She carried her purse with her other one. They headed west, not knowing where they'd end up.
Three hours into the trip, Jane declared she'd sell her whole oil company for a bottle of cheap water. She'd even be tempted to drink from a mud puddle if they could just find one.
"Willing to do a stomp dance for a little rain?" he asked.
"I feel like a sweaty hog. I'd dance nude for rain right now and not even care if a policeman came along and hauled me to jail. At least a cell would have a potty and a drink of water," she said.
"You might get your wish. I saw a flash of lightning over to the southwest. That's where the big storms come from. We might be wading in the mud before morning."
"I'd wade in it gladly. Back there, I would've figured that was Agent August coming to take us home. It would never have dawned on me that John could have found us so quick. Good Lord, we left Baton Rouge, went to Shreveport, flew to Hereford, and were driven to hell. How did he follow that trail?"
"Good question. You come up with an answer that makes sense, we might call that emergency number on the back of the phone. Uh-oh!" he exclaimed.
"That didn't sound good."
"It's not good. Matter of fact, it's damn bad and I don't know what to do about it," he said.
"Agent August and Agent Jones knew about the phone." Jane tried to think about nothing but that cell phone and where she'd seen it. "And Milli. Remember she had the thing and was going to give it to us to take to the beach place. Where did she get it?"
"From whatever agent sent her to Shreveport." Slade stopped and dropped Jane's hand. He took the phone from his pocket along with a pocket knife.
"She handed it off to Agent August. I saw her do it," Jane said.
He pried the back of the phone off and held it up. "Here's the sorry culprit. John or Ramona has an inside man. I'll eat my socks if this isn't a tracking device. They know exactly where we are, that they didn't kill us in the house, and believe me, they'll come running when we stop walking."
"What are we going to do?"
"Think right hard and keep walking," he said.
Two hours later they crossed a barbed wire fence with a No Trespassing sign painted on a tire and hung on a fence post. On the other side of the fence, across a ditch, was a highway. Jane stared at it as if it were a mirage that would disappear if she blinked.
"Which way?" she asked.
"I see a highway sign way down there. Let's go that way until we see what it says. We can always turn around," he suggested.
At that moment, Jane was scared out of her mind, wondering what they were going to do with that damned tracking telephone, and wishing she was back at the safe house with another week of boredom ahead of her. She wished Slade had taken her hand back in his after he'd dismantled the phone. Just the warmth of his touch had brought her a measure of comfort, but she didn't have the nerve to make the first move.
"It says Childress three miles," Slade said when they reached the sign. "I've been to Childress. It's in the eastern edge of the Texas panhandle. There's a couple of motels there. We can be there by daybreak."
"Then let's keep walking. Knowing that those people are sitting in air conditioned comfort with a beer and a hamburger makes me so mad I could spit."
An old pickup truck approached them from the west, slowed down to a crawl, and went on past. A car sped by from the east going so fast the driver probably didn't even see them on the shoulder. Then a black van slowed down in front of them, and Jane's blood ran cold. A red-haired lady stopped beside them and leaned out the window, "Y'all have car trouble somewhere back there? Need a ride into Childress? I could take you back there."
"No thanks. We know some folks just up ahead. They'll go get the car out of the ditch for us. We were nearly home anyway. Thanks for the offer," Slade said.
"Anytime. I been where you are and it's good when someone offers to help," she said. "Want a bottle of water?"
"We're fine," Slade told her. "Where you headed?"
"On my way to Dallas."
"Want a cell phone?" Jane asked.
"What?" The lady asked with a quizzical expression.
"My ex-boyfriend is stalking me. He put a tracking thing in this cell phone and ran us off the road back there. We just found the device. You want the phone? You can call whoever you want. Run up his bill to a million dollars if you want to. I don't give a damn. Then toss it in the backseat of a truck headed for Montana. That should teach the sorry sumbitch to stalk me," Jane said.
"Give it here, honey. I don't cotton to men acting like that. I'll make a few phone calls between here and Vernon. I usually stop at a truck stop there for coffee. This phone is going to be traveling all day."
"You are a doll," Jane said.
"Just a sister protecting another sister," the lady said with a smile.
Slade peeled the number from the back of the phone and handed it to the driver. "Thanks, lady. I've been trying to protect her but that ex is a fiend."
"Well, may his soul rot for abusing you. Rest assured he's going to be chasing his tail end by the time he finds this. I'll slide it up under the seat of the meanest, toughest truck driver I can find."
She drove away and they walked on. Even if the woman used the phone to call her friends and relatives then threw it in a bar ditch somewhere near Wichita Falls, that would buy them some time. They came into Childress from the east on Highway 287 just as the light began to shine through the trees and the town was waking up. When they saw a sign that said Super 8, Jane could have really done that stomp dance. She vowed she'd never take a soft bed and a shower for granted again.
The lady at the desk said that check-in wasn't until three o'clock and if they wanted to check in they'd have to be out by eleven o'clock, which was only five hours away.
Slade assured her that he was willing to pay for two days. Then he went into a long-winded spiel about their car breaking down and how it would take until tomorrow to fix it anyway.
"Well then, sir, we've got a room for you. I see you didn't bring a suitcase. Do you need a hospitality kit with a razor and toothbrush?"
"That would be nice. Thank you," Slade signed the register as Mr. and Mrs. Jimmy Jance.
"Got a bus station in town in case my wife needs to go on back home while they're fixing the car?" he asked.
"That'll be a hundred and thirty-nine dollars and sixty-nine cents with tax for two nights, and yes, sir, there is a bus station in town," she said.
Slade pulled several twenties from his wallet and waited while she slowly made change.
"Don't get much real money these days. Mostly it's credit cards," she explained.
"Would you rather have a card? I've got mine with me, honey." Jane started fishing in her purse.
"No, ma'am, this will be just fine," the lady said. "You are on the ground floor right around the side. Hope your car gets fixed soon. Have a nice stay. Continental break fast from six to ten. That'll be in about ten minutes."
"Thank you," Slade said.
When he opened the door to their room and she saw two double beds she got misty-eyed. She didn't even stop but threw her purse on the bed nearest the bathroom and walked straight to the sink where she unwrapped a plastic cup from its protective sleeve and filled it three times with water before she wasn't thirsty anymore. That finished, she went into the bathroom, turned on the hot water, sat on the potty long enough to pee, and stripped down to bare skin.
"Your turn," she said. "I'm going to sleep until tomorrow."
"Look at this," he said.
The television anchor woman was standing in the foreground of a pile of smoldering rubble. "…hunting cabin south of Hollis just over the Red River on the Texas side of the river went up in flames last night. The person who owns the land and cabin is not available for comment. The latest news is that no one was in the cabin, which was burned to the ground, but there will be a search later for bodies when it's safe to get near the still-smoldering house. It's too early to tell if there was foul play. Stay tuned to this channel for further news on that item. Now for the weather, here's Pete Morris."
"Local station. Evidently it's not big enough news for national," Jane said.
"We'll need to buy a car and keep moving. This is Sunday so there's probably no way to get one until tomorrow. You want to chance staying here until then?" he asked.
She was so tired she wasn't sure if she had the energy to actually trust and work with Slade, but she had no choice. They'd have to work together if they wanted to come out on the other side alive and well. She could rely on the fact that he'd kept her from being assassinated for a whole week, but if they were both to live another week it was going to take serious planning. Thank goodness she'd learned to like him, maybe even love the man.
Love him! Her conscience screamed. Love Slade Luckadeau. Never! I'm just tired. I'm not thinking straight. It's one of those damned vulnerability moments. God Almighty, love him? I'd admit I'd like to have sex with him, but I'll never admit that I love him.
"You going to answer me or are you in total shock now that it's over?"
"I'm in shock," she admitted.
"Not quite as tough as you thought?" he asked.
"I'm tough enough to keep up with you all the way to this motel and to hoodwink that woman into getting rid of the phone, so don't be giving me any of your sass," she said.
A grin tickled the corners of his mouth but he was too damn tired to produce it for real. "Honey, I couldn't hold a light for you to go by when it comes to sass. Let's sleep and when we wake up we'll discuss the next move. I'd love to call Granny but I'm afraid to. One of those men at the ranch could be the one who's working for Ramona or John. Surely they'll tell her that we got out and there were no bodies."
"I figure they won't tell her anything. She thinks we're on some island paradise. Hopefully, they'll let her keep thinking that," Jane said. When Slade went into the bathroom she dropped the towel and slipped between the cool sheets. Tomorrow she'd find a place where she could at least purchase a change of clothing and a nightshirt.
When she awoke the room was freezing and Slade was snuggled up to her back every bit as naked as she was. One arm was thrown around her waist, the other touching her hair. She eased out of the embrace, brushed her teeth, and dressed. While he slept, she thumbed through the yellow pages and found the Greyhound bus station number. He awoke when she began asking about schedules and how to get to the station from the Super 8 motel.
"You making decisions without me?" he yawned.
"I'm making a list without you. A bus leaves at midnight—that's in two hours—for Las Vegas and points west. One goes in one hour to Denver and points north. At six o'clock in the morning, there's one heading east to Wichita Falls. What do you think?"
"I'd like to fly to get a jump on them but the only airport this place will have is a little municipal one and it wouldn't take ten minutes to find out where we went if they find we stopped here—and they will, Jane." He threw the sheet on the floor and padded barefoot and naked to the bathroom.
Her breath caught in her chest at the sight of him. "Name your poison and then feed me. I'm starving."
"You got any feelings about it?" he yelled through the closed door.
"How much money you got in that kit?" she asked.
"Enough for a week, I'm sure."
"Then let's buy a ticket to Vegas and get off in Amarillo and catch a flight out of there," she suggested, amazed that they were actually talking about a plan instead of arguing again.
He nodded. "How far is the bus station from here?"
"Four blocks, and that bus leaves in two hours."
"It's ten o'clock on a Saturday night. What's open between here and there?"
"I have no idea but we could order out pizza. I could probably eat two big ones," she grinned.
"Then what are you waiting on? I want meat lovers or supreme. Call it in and pay for it out of the shaving kit. Count the money if you want to so you'll know exactly what is in there." He used the hospitality kit and shaved, dressed, and repacked his billfold with money, all without putting on a stitch of clothing. He did have his jeans on when the pizza was delivered.
Before he could jerk his shirt over his head, Jane was on her second piece.
"This is the stuff movies are made from. I wonder if Random House will buy our story and give us a million dollar advance?" she said.
"Don't hold your breath until that happens. I would have been very satisfied with a week of boring reading."
"And instant potatoes?" she asked.
"If I had to eat those nasty things I might have torched the place myself. Scoot that box on over here."
At midnight they headed for Las Vegas with a whole busload of gamblers with money in their pockets and winning on their minds. They were loud, boisterous, and excited beyond words. In three days they'd be on their way back to Childress, broke and talking about going again the next year. Any one of the women with their big hair and loud clothing could have been Ellen. Jane missed her terribly as she listened to several conversa tions at once.
Jane and Slade got off the bus in Amarillo and caught a taxi to the airport, where Slade purchased two tickets to Nashville, Tennessee with a stopover in Houston, Texas. They had two hours to waste before the flight so she bought a capri outfit in one of the airport shops and changed in the ladies' room. Slade purchased a T-shirt with an Armadillo on the front and changed in the men's room. Their old clothes went into a gift bag they carried on the flight. Dirty clothing shoved in the trash could be a clue that they'd been in the airport if anyone was looking really close.
"So what do you say, Mrs. Jance? Do we fly all the way to Nashville or get off in Houston, rent a car, and go over to Galveston for a day?"
"You been there before?"
"Yep, to a restaurant that serves pretty good gumbo right on the beachfront with a hotel right beside it. We could drive down the coast to Brownsville and turn the car back there or go to San Antonio. Be thinking about it while we are in the air."
"We can't rent a car. They have to have your driver's license," she reminded him.
"Then we'll take a taxi to the nearest car dealership and I'll buy a damn car," he said, annoyed that he hadn't thought of that.
"Good grief, Slade. How much money are you carrying in that kit?"
"I told you to count it. There was fifty thousand dollars when we left the house. You got that much to repay me when this is done?"
"With interest. The beach in Galveston sounds wonderful. But why on earth did Nellie have that kind of money in the house?"
"She grew up in the Depression. She keeps at least fifty thousand in a concealed safe just in case we hit another one."
"Sounds like a smart lady to me."
"I always thought it was dumb and just humored her until now. Guess the Depression hit in a different way."
They had gumbo and shrimp for supper and spent the night on the second floor of the hotel right next door. The next day Slade purchased a used, eight-year-old Mustang with only forty thousand miles on it. He paid with cash and the dealer put a thirty day tag on it, reminding him to cha
nge the license and put the title in his name within that time. They drove from Galveston to Brownsville and ferried over to Brazos Island for a day. From there they went to San Antonio and stayed on the river walk for a night. Then on Thursday they drove to Beaumont and spent a day swimming in the hotel pool and reading two J.A. Jance books they'd picked up at a Wal-Mart store where Jane shopped for T-shirts and shorts.
Friday found them in Shreveport, where they stayed in a Day's Inn and watched old Law and Order reruns on TV all evening. Saturday morning Slade drove to a nearby Wal-Mart and bought a birthday cake and roses.
Jane fought back tears when he carried them into the hotel room. Watching him leave her in Greenville, Mississippi the next evening was going to be the hardest thing she ever did.
One Lucky Cowboy Page 24