Two on the Run (Harlequin Super Romance)

by Watson, Margaret

  The flash of metal came from a police cruiser idling at the curb, its engine a low growl. It was clearly waiting. For them? Had the cops in the cruiser Ellie had seen earlier noticed her?

  Michael stopped so suddenly that she stumbled. Cursing the pain and stiffness in his back, which slowed him down, he pivoted sharply, ignoring the tug on the wound. He began to run, yanking Ellie along with him, as the door of the squad car creaked open behind them.

  “Hold on, Reilly,” a man called in a low voice.

  Michael froze at the sound, stunned into immobility. Not you, too, Sam, he thought to himself. Pain clawed at his gut and wound tightly around his heart. Slowly, reluctantly, he pulled his gun from the waistband of his jeans and turned to face the police officer.

  “Put the gun away, you idiot.” His partner, Sam Jenkins, shook his head as he approached them. Glancing back at the street, he crowded Michael and Ellie into the shadows, where they were barely hidden.

  “What the hell is going on?” the cop asked, his voice an angry growl.

  “Just get in the car and leave, Sam.” Anger and bitter disillusionment swirled through Michael, but he refused to take his eyes off his partner. “And don’t touch the gun.”

  “What kind of crap is this?” Sam said roughly. “They told me there was an APB out on you.”

  “Did they tell you why?”

  “They claim you killed Montero.”

  “So what are you going to do about it?” Michael asked, holding the gun steadily on his partner.

  “Not a damn thing until you put that gun away.”

  “No can do, Sam.” Michael edged over a step so he was standing in front of Ellie, his gaze switching between his partner and the other officer, who was now standing tense and rigid next to the squad car. It was the rookie he and Sam were training. “Take the kid and get out of here.” Michael jerked his head at the cruiser, where the rookie watched with indecision.

  “Not until you tell me what the hell is going on.”

  Michael’s gaze hardened as he looked back at his partner. “My guess is you know what the hell is going on, which is why you’re here. If you don’t, there isn’t time to explain.”

  Sam shook his head. Michael wanted to believe that the confusion in his partner’s eyes was real, that the puzzlement on his face was genuine. But he couldn’t take the chance. Ellie’s life depended on it.

  He felt her presence behind him. She was so close that he could taste her fear, so close that if he backed up another step she would be plastered against him. His resolve hardened as he stared at his partner.

  “What’s it going to be, Sam? Do we see who’s fastest with a gun? Or are you going to get into the squad car and disappear?”

  “I want to help you, man,” Sam said in a low voice. “What do you need?”

  It was so tempting to trust him. Sam had been his partner for the past three years. They’d covered each other’s backsides more times than Michael could count. Never before had he hesitated to trust Sam, or worried that his partner wouldn’t back him up.

  But what were he and Hobart doing in this part of town?

  “How did you find me, anyway?” Michael asked, his voice heavy with suspicion.

  “I read the report from last night, after Ruiz stopped you. That was some fine driving, by the way.”

  He wouldn’t be sucked in by the familiar banter.

  “What made you look for me here?”

  “We’ve been cruising around this dump of a neighborhood since our shift started. Any sane man would have gone in the opposite direction last night. That’s why I figured you’d end up here.”

  “That’s cute, Sam,” he said, his voice sour. “Real cute. But it’s not good enough.”

  “What do you want from me?” Sam’s low voice took on the ring of urgency, and he glanced back toward the squad car.

  Did Sam really have him so well pegged? Or was there a more sinister explanation? Michael’s resolve hardened. “Get lost, Sam. That’s all I need from you right now.”

  His partner didn’t budge. He lifted his chin in Ellie’s direction. “Is she the woman who’s missing? Did you really kidnap her?”

  “Forget about her,” Michael replied in a low, deadly voice. “If you want to help me, just get the hell out of here. And forget that you saw us.”

  His partner watched him with wary eyes, his hand hovering over his own gun. After a long moment, he sighed and deliberately shifted his fingers away. “You’re in a hell of a mess, partner.”

  Michael gave a short, involuntary bark of laughter. “Now there’s news.”

  “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  “As much as I ever do,” Michael answered.

  His reply brought a reluctant grin from Sam. “That’s the Reilly I know and love.”

  Tension burned in the air and neither man looked away. Finally, Sam drew a deep breath, turned his back and walked toward the cruiser. Before he’d taken more than two steps, Michael called out, “And make sure Hobart keeps his mouth shut.”

  Sam glanced over his shoulder. “Don’t worry about the kid. He’ll do what I tell him to do.”

  Michael watched, his gun drawn, until his partner and Hobart got into the vehicle and disappeared around a corner. He waited for an eternity, scarcely daring to breathe, as he listened for the sound of a car engine doubling back.

  Finally he turned to face Ellie. “Let’s go.”

  She stared at him as if she’d never seen him before. No surprise there, he thought savagely. His face had to reflect how he felt, which was like a refugee from hell. As he waited, wondering if his partner would return, his soul withered into a hard kernel of pain.

  “Come on, Ellie. Move it. They won’t give us all day to get away.” He put an edge of impatience in his voice. “They know where we are now. It’s just a matter of time before this place is crawling with cops.”

  “Was that officer really your partner?” she asked, her voice troubled.

  “Sure was. Couldn’t you tell by the warm interplay between us?”

  She took a step toward Michael and reached out as if to touch him. At the last moment she curled her fingers into her palm and let her hand drop to her side. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I can’t even imagine how it would feel to be betrayed by someone I trusted.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s been a lousy couple of days for trust. But we don’t have time to stand around and analyze it. Let’s go.”

  He stumbled back into the alley and grabbed for her hand, trying to bury the pain while he scrambled to figure out what to do. Ellie gripped his hand, then she let him go and stepped to his side. She wrapped her arm around his waist and pulled him close.

  “Lean on me,” she said, her voice urgent. “We’ll move faster.”

  He draped his arm across her shoulders, but when he let some of his weight sag onto her, she stumbled on the uneven ruts of the alley.

  “Damn it,” he said, trying to draw away from her. “I’m too heavy for you.”

  She flashed him a steely look. “I’ll tell you when you’re too heavy for me. Don’t go all macho on me, Reilly. We don’t have time for that nonsense.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he managed to answer. He couldn’t summon the strength for any more of a reply. The pain from his back was excruciating, and the ruts in the alley seemed ten feet deep.

  They approached a two-flat that was clearly abandoned. Paint peeled from the walls, leaving gray wood exposed. The back porch hung off the structure, sagging to one side and tilting at a dangerous angle. All the windows were broken, leaving the building sightless and lonely.

  But standing in the yard was exactly what they needed. A small, foreign economy car listed to the left, the side panels almost rusted through and the bumper dented in several spots.

  “There,” he gasped, nodding at the car. “We’ll take that one.”

  “That wreck?”

  He ignored the disbelief in her voice. “That’s the one.” Painfully, he p
icked his way through the debris that cluttered the tall grass.

  “Why that car? It doesn’t even look like it will start.”

  “Precisely. Chances are no one will notice it missing for a while. That’ll give us time to get out of town.”

  Wrenching open the stiff door caused the hinges to groan in protest and his back to shriek with pain. The car smelled faintly musty, as if the windows had been open during the last thunderstorm and the seats still weren’t dry. He looked under the floor mat, but the owner hadn’t been considerate enough to leave the keys.

  Angling himself so he could look below the dash, he picked out the two wires he needed and touched them together. The engine sputtered to life, coughed a few times, then settled down to a steady, uneven rumble.

  “Hop in,” he said to Ellie, who stood hesitantly next to the car.

  When he started to buckle the seat belt, though, she straightened as though she’d made a decision. “Slide over and let me drive. They won’t be looking for a woman by herself.”

  She was right. But by allowing her to drive, would he be putting her at even greater risk? She’d be the prime target. And they’d shoot first and ask questions later.

  As he hesitated, she bent closer. “What’s the matter, Reilly? Afraid I can’t handle it?”

  Damn it, he had no choice. Mustering all his strength, he gave her a faint grin. “Not me. I saw you driving last night, Slim. I figure Midland’s finest are still reeling from that car chase. Heck, there are probably still rubber fumes in the air.”

  “Then move over.”

  She tossed her bag into the back seat, then waited for him to unbuckle the seat belt. As soon as he edged over on the bench seat, she slid in behind the wheel. Fastening her hands around the steering wheel, she carefully backed out of the yard and bumped her way into the alley.

  As they reached the street and the spot where Sam had been waiting for them, her knuckles whitened on the wheel.

  There wasn’t another car in sight. Michael took a deep breath, slid lower in his seat and prayed to a God he wasn’t sure even existed. “This is it, Slim. Go for it.”

  She shot him a worried glance, then eased the car onto the street. She was as stiff as if she expected to be hit with a volley of bullets any minute. Once again he cursed himself for getting her involved. But it didn’t matter now. There was no way he could leave her behind.

  “Which way?” she asked, licking her lips as if they were dry.

  “Head back toward the city,” he directed.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Believe me, I want to get you somewhere safe as much as you want to be there, but we can’t leave Midland just yet. We have a stop to make first.”

  Her eyebrows snapped together and she focused on the second part of his statement. “What do you mean, we have to make a stop? I thought the idea was to get your information to the FBI as fast as possible.”

  “It is. But there are some things more important.”

  “What can possibly be more important than your life?” she asked impatiently.

  “Two other innocent lives that may be in danger.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ELLIE TOOK HER EYES off the road to stare at Michael. Suspicion and doubt crept into her mind, dark and insidious. “I thought you were the only one who knows about the corruption.”

  “I hope to God I am. But the dirty cops may not think so.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Apparently he didn’t hear her. Or he chose not to answer. Instead he stared straight ahead, lost in his thoughts.

  “Stop if you see a newspaper box,” he finally said, his voice hard. “I need to know what the cops are saying.”

  “There’s one in that bag on the rear seat,” she said. “I grabbed it at the convenience store.”

  Michael reached around and pulled the paper out of the plastic bag. He opened it with a snap, then sucked in his breath.

  “What?” she asked.

  “It’s just as bad as I thought it would be.”

  “What does it say?”

  As the car shuddered to a stop at a red light, he held the newspaper so she could see it. On the first page, toward the bottom, was a large picture of Michael. And above the picture the headline screamed Killer Cop on the Run.

  She stared at the photos, her stomach cramping into a knot of fear, until Michael said sharply, “Go. The light’s changed.”

  The car was drifting over the center line, and she wrenched the wheel around. “What do they mean?” she whispered. “Why are they calling you a killer? I thought you were just running away because you had evidence against them.”

  “They’re saying I killed a man last night.” His voice was flat as he read the article. “That I’m a rogue cop, unpredictable and dangerous.”

  “I don’t believe that,” she said immediately. “I don’t believe you killed anyone, unless it was in self-defense.”

  “Thank you for that,” he said quietly after a moment. “Thank you for believing in me.”

  “What happened last night?” She took a chance and darted a glance his way. He was hunched down against the car seat, his eyes closed, almost as if he was admitting defeat. “You didn’t kill anyone, did you?” she asked sharply.

  “Yes, I did.”

  She sucked in a shocked breath. His eyes opened and they were full of naked pain. “I didn’t pull the trigger,” he said. “But I might as well have. Someone was killed last night, and it was my fault.”

  “Tell me what happened,” she demanded fiercely.

  He tried to give her another of his grins and failed miserably. “I told you I wasn’t a guy you wanted to spend any time with,” he murmured.

  “Let me be the judge of that,” she insisted.

  He shrugged. “What the hell. You’re already involved up to your neck. You might as well know the whole ugly story.”

  He looked down at his hands and didn’t say anything for a long time. Finally he lifted his head and stared blindly out of the windshield, clearly reliving whatever had transpired the night before.

  “I’ve been working on this corruption for some time,” he began. “It took me a while to realize that something was going on, then even longer to gather the information I needed.” He gave her a sardonic glance. “The cops involved weren’t real open about what they were doing. And I had to be careful.”

  His face hardened, and he looked away. “I had a snitch,” he said quietly. “A dealer who kept me cur rent on various drug deals in Midland. I’d arrested him about a year ago, and he wasn’t happy about it. His girlfriend had just had a kid and he claimed he wanted to go straight. Said he didn’t want to end up in prison and not see his son grow up.”

  Michael’s mouth tightened. “I wasn’t sure if he was telling me the truth or just looking for a get-out of-jail-free card, but we made a deal. I let him go and paid him for every tip he gave me. Six months ago he told me there were some Midland cops who were players in the local drug scene.”

  “What did you do?” she whispered.

  “What anyone would have done. I told him I needed proof.”

  “And did he give it to you?”

  Michael nodded, turning to look out the window again. “Oh, yeah. Pictures and all. A bunch of guys, too, at all levels of the force, all the way from lieutenants to patrol officers. So many that I knew more people had to be involved. People higher up in the food chain.”

  “So you kept the pictures.”

  He gave a curt nod. “That’s what’s in my backpack. All the pictures that Montero collected and all of my own findings. I realized I couldn’t go to anyone in Midland about the problem—I had no idea how pervasive the corruption was. But I knew its tentacles had to go deep into the department. If they didn’t have some powerful protection, these guys wouldn’t have been able to operate. I was trying to find out how high the rot went.”

  “Until last night.”

  “Until last night,” he agreed.

  “Wha
t happened?”

  “They got Montero,” he said, his voice flat. “I’m not sure how it happened, but they must have caught him taking pictures. A few people knew he was my snitch, although I’d tried to keep it quiet. So they found my unmarked car and put him in the back seat. Then they shot him.”

  “How do you know that?” she whispered. Fear swept over her, chilling her to the bone.

  “I saw them do it. And I couldn’t stop it.”

  “Tell me.” She longed to reach out and touch him, but he was too far away, in a place filled with anguished memories.

  “I’d answered a call and was heading back to my car.” He sliced a glance at her and his mouth thinned. “You can say what you want about my way of handling things, but if I hadn’t listened to my intuition, I’d be as dead as Montero right now.”

  “Why?”

  “I stopped in the alley between two buildings. Something just didn’t feel right. And I saw six or seven guys standing around my car. One of them pulled a gun out of an ankle holster and said something to someone in the back seat. The cop moved away and I saw that it was Montero. Then they shot him.

  “The cop who’d done the shooting tossed the gun onto the seat. Then they all just got into their squad cars and drove away.”

  “And you ran over to your vehicle.”

  “Close,” he said, his voice grim. “I see you’ve figured it out.”

  “They had someone waiting for you?”

  “Bingo. They knew that sooner or later I would show up. I guess the plan was they’d shoot me, then put the gun they’d used to kill Montero into my hand. They would have said that they caught me shooting the guy, tried to stop me, and I fired on them. That they had no choice but to take me down.”

  “That’s how you got shot.”

  “Yeah. But I was a little more careful than they expected. I waited for a few minutes, and sure enough, I saw the cop they’d left behind. I was trying to get behind him when he spotted me and fired. I managed to make it as far as the library, but I knew they would find me sooner or later. That’s why I needed to grab you and your car. They wouldn’t be looking for a civilian.”