by Dee Davis
CHAPTER 5
So you want to tell me who you are?” Alexis asked. They’d left New Orleans behind, heading northeast on Highway 90 toward Lake Borgne. So far there’d been no sign that anyone was following them, but Alexis couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d somehow stepped from the frying pan into the fire.
“My name is Tucker.” He kept his eyes on the road, and she allowed herself a moment to study his profile.
He was just this side of handsome, his nose strong and straight, a crescent-shaped scar just below his right ear. His dark hair was a little too long, a silver streak of gray cutting across the right side, almost as if someone had spray-painted it there. He didn’t look old enough to be going gray, or punk enough to have designed it on purpose. Yet, somehow, it seemed to suit him. He was a big man, muscular and hard.
“Tucker,” she repeated, trying it on for size. “It suits you.”
His smile was slow, his eyes crinkling with the gesture. “It’s a family name.”
“And is it just Tucker?” she asked.
“That’ll do for now.”
They rode for a moment in silence, Alexis sorting through her cascading emotions. In less than forty-eight hours she’d lost George and almost been killed. Her house had been trashed and her carefully built life destroyed in one short afternoon. It was a lot to take in. And Tucker-with-no-last-name just added to the puzzle.
“So you said you knew George?”
“Yeah.” He nodded, eyes on the road. “We go way back.”
“You worked with him?” she asked.
“No. I met him in prison. We found we had mutual interests and from there formed a friendship of sorts.”
“Of sorts?” she queried, frowning at the thought of Tucker as a criminal. Somehow she’d managed to categorize him as a good guy, and this newest information didn’t seem to jibe—although she’d lived most of her life with the idea that being accused of something didn’t always make a person guilty.
“Prison is like summer camp,” he said. “Some people you meet, you’re just as happy to forget once you’re on the outside again. And others you know you’ll be bound to for life. George fell in the latter category.”
“And he told you about me?”
“Only that you meant a great deal to him. And that if anything happened to him, he wanted to be sure there was someone to look out for you. So when he turned up dead, I figured it was time to honor my part in our bargain.”
“He promised you something?”
“No. He didn’t have to. He’d already helped me get some information I needed. To clear my name—” He broke off, and she realized he wasn’t going to tell her anything else. But for some absurd reason, the idea that he was innocent of whatever the hell it was made her happy.
“How did you know he was dead?” she asked, forcing herself to keep her guard up. Something about Tucker made it all too easy to let down her defenses.
“I was there.” The words hung between them, and Alexis’s mind went into hyperdrive trying to remember if she’d seen him.
“At the diner?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “I was in the back. In a booth. George was going to introduce us, but—”
“I didn’t give him a chance.” Guilt flooded through her. If she’d stayed…
Silence filled the car, the only sound the whisper of the tires against the road. She turned to look out the window—trees skimming by, their leaves turned fiery in the twilight.
“You couldn’t have saved him,” Tucker said, his voice soft. “I was twenty feet away, and there wasn’t a goddamned thing I could have done. If you’d been there, you’d be dead too.”
She jerked out of her reverie, turning back to face him. “You can’t know that.”
“Trust me when I say that I’ve seen more than my fair share of explosions,” he said. “If you’d stayed in that booth, you wouldn’t be here right now. There wasn’t time to have made an escape.”
“Maybe I’d have seen something,” she said. “I just can’t get the thought out of my mind. I deserted him. Left him there to die.”
“But you didn’t know that. And neither did I.”
“Was it…” She paused, swiping tears from her eyes. “Was it quick? I mean, did he suffer?”
“No,” Tucker said. “He would have died instantly. I doubt he even had time to realize what was happening.”
“And you?”
“I was lucky,” he said. “Just a few scratches and some bruises. But under the circumstances I figured it was time to make good on my promise.”
“To watch out for me.” She sighed. “I suppose I can’t fault your timing.”
“If that’s your way of saying thank you, you’re welcome.”
She bristled at his tone, her positive feelings for the man evaporating as quickly as they’d come. “I could have taken care of myself.”
“That would explain the man with his arm around your neck.”
She ignored the sarcasm, her mind still on George. “If you’re telling me the truth, George would have made sure you had something that would convince me.”
“He was going to introduce us. So I don’t think he’d considered the possibility that I’d be finding you on my own.”
“Still, he must have told you something. Something that will make me believe you’re telling the truth.”
“Well, first off, I am telling the truth. I mean, what possible motive can I have for jumping into the middle of a gunfight with a relative stranger? As I told you earlier, the fact that they were shooting at me seems to negate the possibility that I was working with them. And then there’s this.” He reached in his pocket and produced the bracelet she’d made George all those years ago.
“But George didn’t give that to you. I saw it,” she said, frowning. “On the news when they showed the blast.”
“I picked it up. I knew he always wore it. So I figured it might mean something to you.”
“I gave it to him,” she said, reaching out to take the beaded leather and slipping it onto her wrist. Memories swam to the surface. George cheering at her softball games, helping her mom do dishes after a party, helping her blow out the candles on her birthday. And now he was gone. She closed her fingers over the bracelet. “Thank you.”
“No worries. I had George in my corner too, remember? I can only imagine how hard this is for you.”
“He was everything,” she whispered on a sigh. “That’s why we argued. He wanted us to go our separate ways. He demanded it, actually. And I just couldn’t understand why he’d do that to me.”
“Well, it wasn’t because he didn’t care. More likely he knew something was coming down. Something that culminated in the bombing.”
“And the men at my house.” She closed her eyes, trying to control her emotions. She didn’t know this man. And no matter how close he’d been with George or how comfortable he made her feel, she couldn’t trust him. He might have saved her life, but that didn’t mean she owed him her confidences.
“So when George asked you to look after me, he didn’t tell you why?”
“No. He didn’t.” She opened her mouth to protest but he waved her silent. “And I didn’t ask. George wasn’t a spill-your-guts kind of guy. And I figured if he wanted me to know more, he’d tell me. To be honest, I didn’t really think anything would ever come of it.”
“Well, you were wrong about that.” She slid her fingers across the bruised skin at her throat.
“Are you in pain?”
“Not the physical kind,” she said, letting her hand fall back into her lap. The sun was sitting low on the horizon now, a bright orange globe sinking into the bayou.
His fingers tightened on the wheel. “Any idea why someone would be after you—or George?”
She shook her head, thinking there were a million reasons, none of which made any sense but all of which could possibly have brought this down on their heads. “I think he wanted to tell me, but I didn’t give him the chance.”
She shivered despite the fact that the night was warm. “Where are we going?”
“Someplace off the radar where we can regroup.”
She wasn’t certain whether she should protest or thank him. Maybe for the moment she’d just let it be. Let someone else be in charge. She’d been on her own so long she’d forgotten how nice it was to have someone on her side. She’d had George, of course, but he’d been in prison. And that meant she’d had to deal with life on her own, not daring to allow someone close enough to share the burden. Not that she was going to do that with Tucker. He was practically a stranger. And she knew better.
But surely it wouldn’t hurt for one night.
The car swerved suddenly, slamming Alexis into the car door despite her seat belt. “What the hell?”
“There’s someone on our tail,” Tucker said, his eyes moving between the road ahead and the rearview mirror.
“Shit.” The word came of its own accord. “How did they find us?”
“I’m guessing they tagged your car. I should have thought to look but we didn’t exactly have time for a leisurely search.”
“You’re saying there’s a bug in the car?”
“Unless it’s on you.” He turned slightly, his eyes meeting hers for a moment.
“No. It’s not me. They couldn’t have. I’m wearing clothes I had with me on the trip to California.” She looked down at her tank and jeans.
“What about the backpack?”
Again she shook her head. “It was in the lockbox. I went there before coming to the house. So they definitely didn’t get to it.” She turned to look behind her. “Are you sure they’re following us?”
“Positive,” he said, speeding up slightly. Behind them a blue sedan followed suit. “They’ve been with us since we passed the cutoff to I-10.”
“And you haven’t felt the need to tell me until now?”
“I wasn’t sure. And I didn’t want to scare you.”
“Well, so much for that idea.” Alexis twisted so that she could watch the car behind them. “Any chance we can lose them?”
“I don’t think we can outrun them, if that’s what you’re thinking. But I’m sure we can figure out something.”
“Like a shoot-out on the highway?” She tried to smile but couldn’t quite manage.
“It’s an alternative,” Tucker agreed. “But last ditch, okay?” His gaze met hers for an instant, and damned if she didn’t feel better.
“Okay.” She nodded. “So what do we do in the meantime?”
“Let’s start by abandoning Plan A.” Without another word, he yanked the wheel hard left, and the Chevy spun around, tires squealing in protest. A passing car swerved right onto the shoulder honking in annoyance, and the blue sedan skidded to the left as its driver slammed on the brakes.
Alexis reached out to brace herself on the dashboard, the ancient seat belt not promising much in the way of protection.
“You’re used to driving this car, right?” Tucker asked as he finished the U-turn.
“Yeah. Enough.”
“Not exactly a ringing endorsement, but we’re just going to have to go with it.”
“I’m not following.”
“Unless you’ve given up your aversion to guns, we’re going to need to switch places.”
“You think they’re going to open fire?” She glanced behind her. The blue car, a Honda, had made the turn and was closing fast.
“I don’t think we can afford to take chances. So we’re going to switch seats. You go up, I’ll go down.”
She nodded, already in motion, trying to ignore the tightening in her stomach as she squeezed across him. She grabbed the wheel as he pushed over into the passenger’s seat, the old car groaning in protest as she pressed the accelerator back to the floor. The traffic had thinned to almost nothing, the sun almost below the horizon now. She flipped on the car lights, the scraggly trees lining the highway looking sinister in the shadows.
Beside her, Tucker had pulled his gun and swiveled around so he could watch the Honda. In a million years, despite the violence that had ended her family’s lives, she’d never imagined she’d be here in a car trying to outrun men who were trying to either kill her or kidnap her. Whatever George had gotten her into, it was bad.
Unless this wasn’t about George. Her father’s voice echoed in her ears. “You have to understand, Lexie. We can’t trust anyone. There are men looking for me. Bad men. And if they find me, I’m dead. And, honey, they won’t stop there. They’ll hurt us all.” Alexis shuddered, the past slamming full force into the present.
“You okay?” Tucker’s voice cut through the memories.
“I’m fine. Just trying to figure out why this is happening.”
“We can work that out later,” he said. “But right now you need to concentrate on driving. Think you can do that?”
“Yeah.” She nodded. “I can.”
“Okay, there’s a road about a quarter mile up on the left,” Tucker said. “I saw it when we passed it earlier. When we’re almost there, I want you to turn.”
“What if there’s traffic?” Alexis asked, tossing a glance over her shoulder at the Honda, now only a couple of car lengths back.
“Figure out how to dodge it. But I’m betting there won’t be any. And if there is, I’m sure you can handle it.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I’m not sure it’s valid. It’s not like I’ve driven for NASCAR.”
“Actually, you’ll be more like Evel Knievel if this goes right.”
“Who?” She frowned over at him.
“No worries,” he said, his smile enigmatic. “You just concentrate on driving and follow my instructions.”
She nodded, still frowning, her eyes back on the highway. Tucker was watching the road now, shooting the occasional glance at the Honda still close behind them.
“Okay, you’re almost there,” he said. “Make the turn and then gun the car. I don’t want them to have any time to think.”
She sucked in a breath, and, as they drew near the dirt road stretching back into the twilight, she swung the wheel to the left, crossing the other lane. Behind them, the Honda’s wheels squealed as it followed suit, the honking of an oncoming car punctuating the sound.
“Gun it,” Tucker said, his eyes locked on the road behind them. “Good—they made the turn too.”
She pushed the pedal to the floor, praying that the old sedan had the heart to hit the high notes. As the speedometer pushed past eighty and the wheel began to shake, the chassis bounced down the road, shaking Alexis’s teeth so hard she could actually hear them. “I’d have thought you’d have wanted them to miss the turn.”
“Would have been too easy.” Tucker shook his head. “This will be better. If it works they’ll be stuck here a good long while, buying us the time we need to disappear.”
“So what’s the plan?” she asked, already certain she wasn’t going to like the answer. He had the look of a mischievous little boy, and, considering the circumstances, that couldn’t be a good thing.
“There’s a bridge up ahead. Only, according to the sign I saw when we passed the turnoff before, it’s out.”
“What?” The word exploded from her mouth, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the wheel. “You want me to jump the bayou? Oh my God. Evel Knievel.” It took every ounce of courage she had to keep from slamming on the brakes. The lights of the Honda behind her swelled as it moved closer and, with a mumbled curse, she pressed harder on the accelerator.
“Relax,” Tucker said, clearly enjoying this whole thing a tad too much. “You’re not jumping anything. They are. When you’re almost to the bayou, turn the car. Hard right. Full spin. If this works, they’ll be ass deep in mud before they have time to register what we’re up to. And we’ll be halfway back to New Orleans.”
“But won’t they have seen the sign?”
“Not a chance. Going east it was almost covered by a tree branch. And coming this way there wasn’t any kind of warning.”
“What about when we get there? Surely there’ll be something about the bridge being out.”
“I’ll just have to make sure they’re otherwise occupied,” he said. “You just keep your eyes on the road and make that turn.”
If she had any doubts about what he’d meant by “occupied,” they vanished when he rolled down the window, taking a shot at the car behind them. It swerved but kept coming, and then responded with a volley of bullets that shattered the back windshield.
“Shit.” The word was swallowed by gunfire, the sentiment summing up the situation nicely.
Tucker fired again, and the Honda fell back just enough to be out of range. Alexis pushed harder on the accelerator, the speedometer now at almost ninety. “I’m not sure we’re going to last much longer,” she said. “The hot light’s coming on. This car’s too old for this.”
“We’ve just got to hang on a little longer,” Tucker said, his eyes back on the road ahead. “We’re almost there.” The shadows had deepened, a thicket of trees growing along the bayou’s edge shutting out the sky. “You ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.” She nodded, still gripping the steering wheel with all her strength.
“Okay,” he said, his voice sounding absurdly calm. “In five, four…” The trees were thinning slightly now as they approached the water. In front of her, Alexis could see where the pavement ended. A slight rise—and then nothing. “Three, two, one…” Behind her the Honda had closed the distance slightly, matching the Chevy’s speed. “Now.”
Alexis sent a prayer heavenward and, using every ounce of strength she possessed, yanked the wheel to the right. The Chevy hesitated for a moment and then spun to the side of the road, its momentum carrying it a hundred and eighty degrees. The Honda sped past, its driver fighting for control and losing the battle as the smaller car hit the ramp and then went airborne, flying out into the bayou.
Alexis hit the accelerator again, wheels spinning, as the air behind them erupted with water and mud and the screech of a dying engine.