“Then how do you know?”
“Because I’m a police officer.”
CHAPTER FOUR
“WHAT?” Eleanor stared at him, unable to believe her ears.
Without a word, he pulled a battered wallet out of his back pocket and let it fall open. The faint light glittered off a badge for a few seconds before he snapped it shut and began to slide it back into his pocket.
“Let me see that.”
Silently he handed it to her. The rich scent of leather surrounded her as she held the square object in her hands. The wallet was warm from his body. Trying to ignore the sensory assault, she examined the badge, then the picture identification that accompanied it. There was no doubt. Michael Reilly was a detective in the Midland Police Department.
“What’s going on?” she blurted. “It’s time you told me everything. Why did you say the police would kill you? And me, as well, if they found me with you?”
“Because it’s the truth.” His face was shuttered now.
“Why would they kill one of their own officers?”
“Because of what I know about some of them. And they’ll kill you because of what I might have told you.” She heard the pain and exhaustion in his voice. It was as if he had been wearing a mask since he’d kidnapped her and was finally letting it slip.
“What are you going to do?”
“I have to get out of Midland. Hell, I should probably get out of the Midwest.” The shadows in the alley hid the right side of his face. “I need to talk to the FBI.”
“There’s an office in St. Louis. That’s less than a hundred miles away. Why didn’t you just get into your own car and drive there?”
“Believe me, that wasn’t an option.” He closed his eyes, as if trying to block out a scene he wanted to forget.
“And that’s why you kidnapped me? So that I would drive you to the FBI office?”
He nodded. “I couldn’t just steal a car, because the owners would report it stolen and the police would be looking for it. I needed a car that no one would report missing for at least a few hours, to give me a head start.”
“Why did you pick me?”
“It’s like I told you. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time.” His voice was flat. “I saw your car in the parking lot and figured that it belonged to the custodian. But when you came out, I knew my luck had changed. You were perfect. You were working late on a Friday night. Chances were there was no one waiting for you at home.”
“You were right.” She couldn’t keep the wistfulness out of her voice.
Propping himself against the wooden wall of another garage, he studied her. “Why is that, Ellie?” he asked gently. “Why isn’t there someone waiting for you?”
She berated herself for letting him see so much about her. “I work long hours. And I don’t meet a lot of eligible men working in the children’s section of the library.”
He touched the top of her head, then pushed her glasses back up her nose. The small gestures felt more intimate than a caress. “And you don’t go out of your way to attract them, either, do you?” he murmured.
She shrugged his arm away and looked at the ground, trying not to let him see how much his words hurt. “My social life is not your concern.”
After a moment he said, “You’re right. I’m more concerned about your life, period. As in saving it.”
He touched her cheek once, his fingers as gentle as a misty rain. “What are we going to do with you?”
She wanted to say, “Take me with you.” She ached to say, “I’ll help you.” The impulse shocked her. She wasn’t an impulsive woman. She didn’t give in to wild cravings. She made careful, reasoned decisions. Looking away from him, staring down the dark alley, she said, “Take me home, I suppose. You know I won’t call the police. Not now.”
“Why not?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “I kidnapped you.”
“You also tried to protect me. You pulled me out of that hole in the warehouse floor, even though I told you to leave me. You covered my body with yours when the police came by.” Her face heated at the memory of lying on the unyielding floor, his hard body blanketing her. “You haven’t hurt me, Michael. And I don’t believe you’re a criminal.”
“Thank you,” he said quietly. “That means a lot to me. But you know I can’t take you home. It’s not safe. Let me take you to a friend or a relative outside of Midland.”
“I don’t have any relatives.” The realization brought a lump to her throat. Her life was in danger, and there was no one she could turn to. No family who would mourn if she died. “My parents are both dead, and I don’t want to endanger my friends.”
“Then I’m sorry, but it looks like you’re coming with me.” A strained smile crept over his face, a pale shadow of the teasing grin he’d flashed earlier. He brushed one finger over her cheek. “Look at it as an unexpected vacation.”
Her nerves jolted at his touch and she wanted to lean into him. But before she could make a fool of herself he drew his hand away. “There’s nothing to be sorry about,” she managed to say. Her cheek was still tingling. “Maybe I can help you.”
At that his mouth tightened. “Forget it. I’ll find someplace to leave you once we’re out of town. The last person who tried to help me ended up dead.”
“What did happen, Michael?” she whispered. Something awful had occurred earlier tonight. The knowledge was reflected in his bleak eyes.
“I’ll spare you the details. All you need to know is that there are a number of detectives and patrol officers on the Midland police force who’d like to see me dead.” He paused and his eyes darkened. “Tonight they figured out that I know about their criminal activities, and that I probably have proof. If they don’t stop me, they’ll go to prison. So they’ll try to stop me at any cost.”
He pushed away from the wall, wincing with pain. When he tried to take a step, he staggered, and she reached out to steady him. His arm was hard and corded with muscle, and his skin felt dry and hot. She tightened her grip on him.
“So that’s your entire plan? Get out of Midland somehow and take this proof of yours to the FBI?” She spoke more sharply than she’d intended, disconcerted by the sensations he aroused in her.
“That’s it.”
“You must have had a backup plan in case things went wrong.”
“I’m not big on planning, Slim. I’m more of an impulse kind of guy. I rely on my intuition.” A faint smile flickered across his mouth.
That grin affected her more than she liked. “Maybe you should have thought things through more carefully,” she said sardonically. “Maybe that’s why we’re hiding in an alley in this part of Midland and you’re running from your fellow police officers right now.”
“Intuition is the only reason I’m still here.” The smile faded from his mouth. “It kept me from dashing out to my car tonight. If I had, I’d be cooling on a slab in the morgue right now.”
He closed his eyes again, but opened them almost immediately. “I’m getting a bad feeling from these questions of yours. Are you one of those people who has to plan everything in excruciating detail?”
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” she retorted.
“I wouldn’t know. That’s not how I operate.”
“Well, someone had better start thinking ahead if you want to get out of this situation.”
“You go ahead. If I don’t like what you come up with, we’ll do something else.” He shot her another wicked grin. “We’ll call it the plan to be named later.”
A strange ripple of electricity moved through her every time he smiled at her. Clearly she’d had too much adrenaline coursing through her blood tonight, and it had overloaded her circuits. That was the only explanation for the feelings he was rousing in her.
He wasn’t the kind of man who would be interested in her. If he met her on the street or in the library, he wouldn’t give Eleanor Perkins a second look. Heck, he wouldn’t give her a first look. She knew that.
She was making far too much of his charm. Obviously, he didn’t mean for her to take it personally. After all, she was the exact opposite of exciting, impulsive Michael Reilly.
And she could add good-looking to the list. His eyes were a vivid, bright blue, and his dark hair, in need of a trim, gave him a rakish, devil-may-care look. And when he grinned at her, a dimple creased his right cheek and a devil danced in his eyes.
She knew what he saw when he looked at her. She was ordinary in every way. The word mousy could have been invented for her hair. Thick and straight, it refused to hold a curl, and she despaired of ever doing anything with it other than piling it into a bun on the top of her head. Her eyes were an ordinary blue. But it didn’t really matter, because they were hidden behind her glasses.
No, there was nothing about her to appeal to someone like Michael Reilly. The man exuded sex appeal. God knows he’d already made her heart beat faster.
“Are you always so levelheaded and practical, Ellie?” he asked softly.
He was staring at her as if he hadn’t really seen her before now, and it made her uncomfortable. “Shouldn’t we start moving?” she asked. “Or do you intend to skulk in this alley all night?”
That faint hint of a grin crossed his mouth again, and he pushed away from the wall. “You’re a slave driver, woman,” he said.
Then he peered around the corner of the garage toward the street, and suddenly there was nothing casual or devil-may-care about Michael. “Let’s go,” he said without looking at her. “We need to get out of here before that patrol officer comes back.”
MICHAEL GRITTED HIS TEETH as he stepped away from the protection of the dark alley. His wound had been bleeding steadily, and for a moment the world spun in sickening circles. Blindly he reached out for the support of the garage again. But Eleanor slipped her small hand into his.
“Hang on to me,” she said briskly. “You’re a little dizzy.”
He couldn’t help chuckling. “You’re something else, Ellie. Who would have guessed a few hours ago that you’d be bossing around a hardened criminal?”
“I’m bossing around a complete idiot who thinks he can ignore a bullet wound.” She sounded as if it was a personal affront. “We’re not going anywhere until we take care of that injury.”
“You terrify me, Slim.”
They staggered a few steps, then she asked in a small voice, “Why do you call me that?”
“Because you are, I guess.” He remembered how she’d felt when he’d lifted her out of the hole in the floor at the warehouse. “You’re tiny and delicate and, well, slim.”
“No one’s ever called me delicate before.” He heard surprise and shyness in her voice.
“Then I guess nobody’s looked at you lately.”
“Or you’re too used to flirting.” The warmth had disappeared from her voice. “You can turn it off anytime now. I’m not susceptible.”
No, she probably didn’t think she was. But he’d seen a side of Eleanor Perkins that intrigued him. And attracted him, if he was honest with himself. She was brave and she was smart. And she was resourceful. She might not be beautiful, but he doubted that one of the drop-dead gorgeous women he was used to dating would have done as well in these circumstances.
A grin flitted across his mouth. God help any real criminal who tried to kidnap Ellie. Before she was finished with him, he’d probably run screaming in the other direction.
But the vulnerability deep in her eyes intrigued Michael. And the delicate softness of her skin stirred an unwelcome weakness inside him.
Now where the hell had that come from?
Disgusted with himself and the direction of his thoughts, he tried to walk a little faster. He staggered again and draped his arm over Eleanor’s shoulder to brace himself. She stiffened momentarily, then shifted closer so he could rest his weight against her. She seemed to know instinctively what he needed.
“We’re going to have to stop soon.”
He heard the concern in her tone, and something moved in his chest. He had kidnapped her just hours ago, but now she was worried about him. He had bullied and terrified her, and all she could think about was how to take care of him.
“There’s a flophouse hotel a couple of blocks from here,” he said roughly. “We’ll stay there.”
“Can you make it that far?” She glanced up at him, and he saw the worry in her eyes.
“I’ll have to, won’t I?”
She watched him for a moment before she nodded. “I guess you will.”
She shifted again so that she was supporting more of his weight. He hated feeling so helpless, hated knowing that he would be worse than useless if the police found them. Hated being terrified that Ellie was in danger and it was his fault.
“Let’s rest a minute,” she said.
He shook his head. “Can’t.”
They struggled along in the shadows for what felt like an eternity. Every step sent fingers of fire digging into his back, a new trickle of blood down his skin.
They turned another corner and he began counting the steps, forcing himself to put one foot in front of the other. “Are we almost there?” Ellie asked, panting.
“I’m too heavy,” he said immediately, trying to lift his weight off her shoulder. “I can walk on my own.”
“You’re an idiot, Reilly,” she said, tightening her arm around him. She didn’t even look at him. “I don’t think you can go much farther.”
“I’ll be fine.”
He’d make it to that hotel if he had to crawl there. He wasn’t about to leave Ellie vulnerable on the streets of Midland.
“Stop,” she suddenly ordered, and he stumbled to a halt.
“What?” he breathed, praying it wasn’t another police car.
“There’s one of those all-night convenience stores. I’m going to get some first-aid supplies.”
“Damn it, Ellie,” he exclaimed. “We don’t have time.”
“Then we’ll make time.” She glanced up at him. “Do you want to be able to leave Midland tomorrow? Or would you rather be lying in a gutter somewhere, too weak to move from loss of blood?”
“I think you’ve read too many mysteries,” he muttered, but he didn’t resist when she steered him toward an alley across the street from the brightly lit store.
“Don’t move. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Take your time. Don’t act rushed. We don’t want the clerk to remember you.”
She disappeared into the store and out of his sight. Tension twisted more and more tightly inside him as he waited for her to emerge. He’d put his life in her hands. She could be on the telephone with the Midland police right now, telling them exactly where to find him.
But he didn’t think she was. Eleanor was a woman of her word. He’d figured that out a while ago. And she’d told him she wouldn’t call the cops.
Minutes ticked by with agonizing slowness. Finally, in spite of his certainty about her, a wisp of doubt crept into his head. Had she changed her mind? Was she calling for help?
Then the door opened and she was hurrying across the street. “Sorry I took so long,” she said. “I hope you weren’t worried.”
“I was worried as hell,” he rasped. “What happened in that damn store?”
“The night clerk was chatty.” She slid her arm around Michael and eased him out of the alley. He refused to think about how right she felt against him.
“She was lonely and wanted to talk. You said not to hurry, and I figured she would be more suspicious if I rushed off.” Eleanor glanced up at him. “I didn’t want her to remember what I bought.”
“I didn’t mean you should exchange life stories with the clerk,” he said through gritted teeth. “The longer you talked to her, the more time she had to remember your face.”
Anxiety speared through him, along with an odd shame that he’d doubted her. “You should have gone in there, bought what you needed, and gotten out.”
“I’m sorry,” she snapped at him. “I
guess I missed that lesson in criminal school.”
She kicked at a garbage can and it toppled over, the hollow sound echoing down the street.
“Oh, now, that’s mature,” he said, but his heart lightened. He’d been right to trust her.
“And you would know mature if it hit you in the face?”
He grinned into the darkness when he saw the scowl on her face. “That’s my Ellie. Always with the quick comeback.”
She glanced up at him and he saw the fury in her eyes. “The more I get to know you, Reilly, the less surprised I am that somebody wants to kill you. You probably laughed at your fellow detectives once too often.”
“I’m not laughing at you.” He tightened his grip on her shoulder. “I’m relieved as hell that you’re all right.”
“I didn’t know what to do other than talk to her,” she muttered, not looking at him. “At least I held a magazine close to my face so she couldn’t see me very well.”
“Good job.” He squeezed her shoulder again. “I guess I snapped at you because I was worried.”
“Were you worried that I had changed my mind about helping you? Were you afraid that I had called the police?”
He was ashamed of his momentary lapse of faith. “I was worried, period,” he finally said. But he’d hesitated a moment too long. Disappointment and hurt flickered over her face.
“I don’t like not being in control,” he muttered. It was the truth. Memories from his childhood threatened to surface, pictures of a terrified young boy cowering in front of his father. Michael pushed them away. Right now he had to concentrate on staying alive. And keeping Ellie alive.
Her face relaxed as she looked up at him. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I should have realized that. Control is very important for police officers, isn’t it?”
He choked back a laugh. It was the last thing he’d expected her to say. But then, every other word out of her mouth surprised him. “And you know this because of all the contact you’ve had with the police?”
Two on the Run (Harlequin Super Romance) Page 5