Her touch didn’t take away the gaping, aching hole inside him. Nothing could do that. But it softened the edges of the black despair that had filled him at the sight of the car next to Charles’s driveway.
Michael wanted to pull to the side of the road, he realized in horror, and drag her into his arms. He wanted to bury his head in the cool fall of her hair and let the touch of her hands soothe away the pain and anger.
He shook off her hand and clenched his teeth. He wouldn’t allow himself to do that. Not in a million years. The last person he’d trusted had just betrayed him in the worst possible way.
“Who did that car belong to, Michael?”
He glanced over at her. Her eyes were filled with compassion and sympathy, blue-gray pools of understanding.
He deliberately looked away. “It was a Midland police car. An unmarked.”
“How can you be sure?”
“I recognized the dent in the trunk.” His voice was grim. “I put it there myself three months ago.”
“That doesn’t mean Charles is involved,” she said evenly. “There could be a lot of reasons why someone from Midland went to see him.”
“When I’m on the run with information that could put away a substantial part of the force? When the people on the force who know me know that Charles is the first person I’d run to?” He curled his lip in derision. “Not likely.”
“Just because a Midland police car was near his house doesn’t mean Charles is involved. Maybe they were merely looking for information.”
“I doubt it. I called Charles this morning when you were out. I told him there was something rotten going on in the force and I would be out to see him later. He wouldn’t have let anyone from Midland in the house.”
“Maybe he didn’t have a choice. Maybe he’s in trouble.”
He shook his head. “Charles might be old enough to be retired, but he’s not stupid and he’s not feeble. He wouldn’t have opened the door to anyone from Midland.”
“You can’t jump to the conclusion that he’s involved,” she said sharply. “How long have you known him?”
“Twenty years,” he muttered.
“Don’t you think that’s long enough to know what kind of man he is?”
“I thought it was.”
“Then why are you assuming the worst?”
Because I always do. The words trembled on his lips but he caught himself before speaking them. He wasn’t about to invite Ellie to psychoanalyze him.
“What choice do I have?” He heard the rage and pain in his voice and focused on them. It was that or surrender to the despair hovering in his heart. “If I make the wrong assumption, you’ll be dead, I’ll be dead and so will any chance of justice for Rueben.”
“And what about Charles? Aren’t you worried about him? Maybe you should call him.”
“Charles can take care of himself. I’ll call him when we’re farther away. I don’t want to let him or anyone in that house know how close we are.”
“You have to trust someone, Michael.”
“I do. I trust myself.” He glanced at her reluctantly. “And you, I guess.”
“See? You’re not alone.” The compassion in her eyes deepened.
“How can I forget it? I may trust you, but you’re a liability,” he said harshly, unable to meet her eyes. “I can’t concentrate on what I have to do because I have to worry about both of us.”
He expected her to erupt with anger, or at least retreat in a hurt silence, but she surprised him once again by laying her hand on his arm. “It’ll be all right. I won’t get in your way,” she said. “I promise.”
“It won’t be all right,” he raged, her calm voice and instinctive understanding just deepening his pain. He wanted her to rage back at him, to snap at him with a quick answer and a quicker glib retort. The last thing he wanted was her understanding. It rubbed like sandpaper against the wound in his heart.
“You’re getting in my way just by being here. All the time I have to spend worrying about you is time I can’t spend trying to figure out how to get this information where it needs to be!”
“We’ll figure it out together,” she said, her voice still that soothing, maddening murmur. “If you’re sure Charles is all right, your only job right now is to concentrate on driving.”
What if Charles wasn’t all right? He eased his foot off the accelerator, worry now replacing his anger. What if Ellie was right? Was something wrong at Charles’s house? Had someone from Midland driven out there and forced his way inside?
“Charles is tough,” Michael said, staring out the windshield. “He’s the fittest sixty-eight-year-old I’ve ever known. And he’s no fool. If he wasn’t working with that scum from Midland, he wouldn’t have let them into his house.”
“Maybe they didn’t ask,” Ellie said.
He looked at her sharply, unaware that he’d spoken out loud. “Charles was a cop for over forty years. And he didn’t get to be chief of police because he was stupid.”
“I’m not arguing with you.” She hesitated, then said in a softer voice, “I’m just wondering why you’re assuming he’s guilty. You’ve known him for a long time. I would have thought you’d give him the benefit of the doubt.” Her voice got stronger. “If it was my friend, I’d assume something was wrong.”
“That’s the difference between us.” He gave her a look that dared her to deny it. “I’m a realist. I know what the world is really like. All you know are those damn books you read. I’ve already told you, in the real world there’s no such thing as a happy ending.”
“You’re wrong, Michael. Dead wrong.” She shifted in her seat. “But you’re going to have to learn that for yourself. I just hope your friend Charles isn’t suffering because of your blind stubbornness.”
“Charles is fine,” he growled. “We have to worry about ourselves.”
But she’d planted a seed of doubt that he couldn’t ignore, no matter how hard he tried. Was he a fool for hoping, in a perverse way, that she was right? Probably. Experience had taught him, over and over again, that the only person he could count on was himself. He couldn’t allow hope to poison his mind. He couldn’t take that chance.
“Maybe we should go back and check, just to be sure,” she said after a moment.
Wavering, he slowed down and pulled onto the shoulder of the road. “We might be walking into a trap.”
She held his gaze as the car rolled to a stop. “If we are, you’ll figure it out,” she said softly. “You trusted Charles before you saw that car in his driveway. What’s changed since then?” She waited a second, and when he didn’t answer, she continued, “Not everyone in the world is deceitful and treacherous.”
He ran his hand through his hair. “Who appointed you as my conscience?”
“Forget it. Don’t pay any attention to me. Just keep driving. Turn your back on Charles and head to Chicago or St. Louis or wherever you’re going. Who cares what might be happening with him? Your job is far more important than one old man.” He’d been trying to provoke her and finally she snapped. Thank God. Her anger was a lot more comfortable than her sympathy.
Scowling, Michael started the car and did a quick three-point turn on the narrow road. “You’re forgetting the old woman who lives with Charles,” he said, the sarcasm in his voice souring the air in the car. “Don’t you want to point out that she’s probably sick? Or maybe hurt? There must be more guilt you can dredge up somewhere.”
“I don’t need to,” Ellie retorted. “There’s more than enough to go around right now.”
He pressed harder on the accelerator. Her words had heightened his concern, but he wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of saying so. “No wonder you’re not married. Who could live with such a nagging, bossy woman?”
Shocked silence filled the car. Appalled by what he had just said, he slammed on the brakes again.
“My God, Ellie, I didn’t mean that.”
She met his gaze, her eyes stony, her back ramrod stra
ight. “No need to apologize, Michael. It’s nothing I haven’t heard before.”
“You know it’s not true. I was just pissed off at you because you were making me feel things I didn’t want to feel.” He wanted to reach out to her, to take back the ugly remark, but there was no way to erase his hateful words. So he curled his hands into fists and stared out the windshield instead.
She leaned closer, her eyes flashing. “Maybe you need to feel those things. Maybe you’re not going to be a worthwhile human being until you do.”
“You wouldn’t be the first person to tell me I’m not a worthwhile human being.”
She didn’t respond to his lame, weak joke. Instead, she stared at him with what looked suspiciously like pity. “I feel sorry for you, Michael. You’re so busy protecting yourself that you have no idea what people are offering you. It must be sad to go through life with such a handicap.”
“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” Infuriated at her insight, Michael pulled the car back onto the road and took off, so forcefully the engine nearly groaned in protest. “I’m perfectly happy with my life the way it is.”
“That’s what’s so sad. You don’t even know what you’re missing.”
“And you’re the expert? Where did you get all your experience? From those books you’re always quoting?”
“I may not have much of a life, but at least I know what I’m lacking.” She was practically shouting at him. “You don’t have a clue.”
He didn’t want to hear more from her because a part of him was afraid she was right. “Look, I’m going back to Charles’s house, okay? What more do you want?” he snarled.
“Nothing,” she said, turning away from him. “There’s nothing more I want from you.”
But that wasn’t the truth, Ellie acknowledged to herself. She wanted much more from Michael.
Much more than he was capable of giving her.
His cruel words echoed in her brain, repeating relentlessly like a tape of her worst nightmare. Maybe he was right, she forced herself to admit. Maybe she was too bossy. Maybe she was too opinionated. But she wasn’t about to make herself into something she wasn’t. She wasn’t about to deny who she was in order to catch a man.
Because in the end, whatever that man got wouldn’t be worth having.
And this wasn’t the time to brood about it, she told herself. There were a lot of other things to worry about right now.
Such as if she was going to live long enough to worry about catching a man.
“Do you have a plan?” she asked, struggling to keep her voice level and polite.
“You’re asking me? The man who doesn’t know how to plan?”
Although his voice was strained, he was clearly trying to make a joke. She forced herself to look at him. If he was trying to make things better between them, she’d go along. “I thought maybe you’d reformed.”
He shook his head with a wry smile. “You ought to know you can’t reform a guy like me.”
And she’d better remember that, she told herself sharply, if she had any hope of surviving Michael Reilly with her heart intact.
“What was it you called me yesterday?” he asked. “A barbarian? You know barbarians don’t have any manners.”
She was pretty sure it was the closest she would get to an apology for the way he’d been acting. But it didn’t matter, she told herself. He’d been hurt and upset and would have lashed out at anyone who’d been sitting beside him in the car.
“So what are we going to do? Jump out of the bushes at them and shout ‘boo’?”
“You are definitely a piece of work,” he said, but there was no heat in his words. “We’ll stop when we’re a couple of blocks away from the house and I’ll call Charles on my cell phone.”
“And then?”
He shrugged. “That’s when we play it by ear. It depends on what Charles has to say.”
The road hummed beneath the tires of the tiny car, and before long they had to slow down at the edge of Pinckney. But instead of the anticipation that had filled the air the last time they’d approached the town, now there was a sense of dread in the car.
She was afraid something had happened to Charles.
And Michael was afraid Charles had betrayed him.
Eleanor’s heart beat relentlessly against her ribs as Michael steered the car into a busy parking lot and pulled out his cell phone. He punched in the numbers, then looked at her as the phone began to ring.
She sent up a prayer that he wouldn’t be disappointed, that he wouldn’t face another betrayal. It was becoming painfully clear that Michael had already suffered far too many betrayals in his life.
He tensed, then leaned toward her so she could hear both sides of the conversation. On the other end of the line a man’s voice said, “Hello?”
“Charles? This is me,” Michael said. “What the hell is going on?”
“Hello, Fred. I’m sorry you’ve had trouble getting through,” the man said. “The phone seems to be fine now. There must have been a problem with the line.”
Michael glanced over at her, his eyes suddenly hot with fury. “I understand. I’ll be there as quickly as I can.”
“No, I’m afraid I can’t go fishing today. We have guests, friends we haven’t seen for a long time. We have a lot of catching up to do.”
“I’m only a few minutes away.”
“Naw, I wouldn’t do that. If you go out there by yourself in that big boat of yours, you’ll scare the fish away.”
Ellie saw the frustrated fury in Michael’s eyes. “I’ll send the state police. I’ll tell them it’s a hostage situation. Is Betty all right?”
“She sends her regards, too. Say, hi, Betty.”
From what sounded like a great distance, a shaky female voice said, “Hi, Fred.”
“Sorry we can’t get together today. You come by later in the week. We’ll take my boat out one morning and I’ll show you how it’s done.”
“Hang in there, Charles. And call me as soon as you can.” Michael’s voice was grim.
“Don’t worry. We’ll get together soon.”
From the steely tone of Charles’s voice, Ellie had no doubt the retired chief could handle the situation. Michael snapped his cell phone closed and turned to her, his eyes raging and his mouth set in a hard line.
“You were right. The cops from Midland must be holding them hostage.”
“Charles is awfully good at thinking on his feet.”
Michael’s eyes softened. “Yeah, he is.” He hesitated for a moment, then said, “Thank you for forcing me to see there was a problem.”
“I think you would have figured it out for yourself.”
“Maybe not in time.” His gaze touched hers briefly, then he looked past her out the window. “I’m sorry. I was a real ass.”
“Not to mention an obnoxious jerk. But I’d like to think it was because of the pressure you’re under.”
He met her gaze again, and this time didn’t look away. “I’m not sure I can claim that excuse. I think I might just be a jerk.”
“Maybe so, but you do have a few redeeming qualities,” she said, making her voice deliberately light. “I’m just having trouble thinking of them right now.”
Instead of smiling, as she had hoped he would, he continued to stare at her. “Keep that in mind, Ellie. Don’t go getting any wild ideas about me. Don’t bother to try and reform me. I’m trouble all the way through.”
She couldn’t restrain a snort of laughter. “And that’s about the most melodramatic line I’ve ever heard. I didn’t know you had aspirations to the stage.”
She drew a reluctant answering grin. “Maybe I was overstating a little bit. But it doesn’t change the truth. I’m not the kind of man who has anything to offer a woman like you.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she said evenly. “In case I might ever be interested in anything you have to offer.”
She hoped her tone of voice implied that it was an unlikely ev
ent. Apparently she succeeded, because he looked taken aback for just a moment. Then he gave her a curt nod.
“I’m glad we’re on the same page.”
“Absolutely.” She nodded vigorously, but let her gaze slide away from his. “So what’s our next move?”
“We’re heading over to Charles’s house, of course.”
She whipped her head around to glare at him. “He told you not to come. I heard him plainly. And you said you were going to send the state police.”
“I am going to call the state police.” He picked up his phone again and punched in 911. “But you didn’t think I’d just drive away before I’m sure Charles is all right?”
She leaned back in her seat, watching him. “Maybe you do have some redeeming qualities, after all.”
He flashed her a startled look, then recovered. “Don’t count on it.”
She heard the murmur of a voice on the other end of the phone, and Michael dragged his gaze away from her. Speaking slowly and clearly, he gave out Charles’s address. He was afraid, he said, that there was a problem. He suspected an elderly man and woman were the victims of a home invasion and very likely being held hostage by the perpetrators.
Michael listened for a moment, then said he suspected a problem because he’d just talked to Charles Wilson on the phone. Charles had made it clear there were uninvited visitors in his home.
After a few moments Michael hung up and turned to her, his mouth a grim line. “I’m not sure they believed me, but at least they’re going to check it out.”
“Now what do we do?”
He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “We wait here,” he finally said. She could see he hated the idea. “We have no choice. We can’t take a chance on running into the Midland cops.”
“So we’ll wait here.” Glancing around the strip mall, she said, “There’s a fast-food place. Why don’t we get something to eat?”
He stared at her as if she was out of her mind. “You want to eat?”
“I’m hungry,” she lied. “And we don’t have anything better to do.”
“I sure as hell have something better to do!”
Two on the Run (Harlequin Super Romance) Page 12