“What’s that? Sit here and brood? Rush out to Charles’s house and get in the way?”
He stared at her for another moment, then a rueful smile twisted his mouth. “You’re managing me, aren’t you?”
“I never manage anyone,” she said primly. “I just make suggestions.”
He snorted. “And the check is in the mail, right?”
She gave him a steady look. “Are we going to eat or am I going to expire from hunger?”
He actually laughed. “All right, I can take a hint as well as the next man.” The smile disappeared from his face. “But you stay in the car. And stay out of sight.”
“How about if we go into the restaurant separately? Wouldn’t that be just as safe?”
“No, it wouldn’t be. I don’t want anyone to see you.”
She sighed. “Do I have to spell it out for you?” she snapped. “I need to use the facilities.”
“Why didn’t you just say so?”
Happy that she’d managed to distract him from worrying about Charles, she fought to keep the smile off her face. “Because I was embarrassed.”
He gave her a disbelieving look. “Like hell you were embarrassed. With a mouth like yours you’ve never been embarrassed in your life.”
He couldn’t be more wrong. But instead of answering him, she opened the door without looking at him and stepped onto the hot asphalt. “I’ll meet you back in the car.”
Ten minutes later he slid onto the seat next to her. “We’ve got a problem.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
SHE SHOT UPRIGHT, fear chasing down her spine. “What’s wrong?”
“Take a look at that.” He tossed a newspaper in her lap.
The headline screamed out at her: Rogue Cop Takes Librarian Hostage. Below the headline were pictures of her and Michael.
“This isn’t good,” she murmured.
“You got that right.” He slammed the door and slouched over the steering wheel, scowling at her. “And where did they get that damn ugly picture of you, anyway?”
The photo was from her library ID. It was a particularly unflattering likeness that showed her hair pulled into a tight bun on the top of her head and her glasses sliding halfway down her nose. She frowned sternly into the camera as if the photographer were an unruly boy.
“I never take good pictures,” she muttered.
“Whoever took that one should be shot. It doesn’t even look like you.”
She stared over at him, amazed at his words. She was afraid she looked very much like that picture. “Thank you,” she finally managed to say.
“We’ve got to get out of central Illinois.” He stared out of the window, clearly brooding. “Someone’s sure as hell going to recognize us if we don’t.”
“Do you think the story has been in the Chicago and St. Louis newspapers?”
“Who knows?” He ran his fingers through his hair again. “Probably, if it’s been a slow news day.”
“So we’re going to be recognized wherever we go.”
“That about sums it up.”
Fear snaked down her spine, as if a noose were tightening around her neck. The backpack on the seat behind them suddenly seemed to swell with a malignant presence.
“So I guess we’d better get to the FBI as soon as possible.” She forced her voice to be steady and cool.
Michael looked over at her. “I made the right decision when I grabbed you,” he said gruffly.
“What do you mean?”
“Anyone else would be hysterical by now. Or they’d be whining and blubbering. But you just say hey, the bad guys are after us so we need to get to the FBI right away.” He shook his head. “I was damn lucky.”
“Thank you. I think.”
“You’re welcome.” He flashed her another killer grin. “Just don’t spoil the image by mouthing off at me again.”
“I’m afraid you’re destined to be disappointed. You present such a tempting target.”
His smile was fleeting. “That’s what they all say.”
Neither of them spoke for a while. Then Michael glanced at his watch for about the third time in the last two minutes. “What’s taking so long?” he asked under his breath.
She didn’t even want to speculate on the possible reasons. “Are there any more articles about you in the paper?”
He gave her an impatient look. “I’m not one of your kids in the library. You don’t have to distract me.”
“I have to distract myself.” She took the paper from the seat next to him. “Let me see.”
There was no other mention of them. But the pictures stared out at her from the front page. “No one recognizes people from their pictures in the newspaper,” she said, trying to sound confident.
“You want to risk your life on that?”
“What options do we have?”
“We’ll figure something out as soon as I hear from Charles.”
Minutes crept past and the tension in the car swelled until it took up all the available space. The inside of the vehicle felt like a sauna, the temperature relentlessly climbing higher as the sun beat on the roof. Sweat trickled down Eleanor’s chest and back.
Surely the state police should have arrived by now. Maybe there was a problem. She didn’t dare look at Michael. She didn’t want to let him see her worry, didn’t want to see the fear in his eyes.
His cell phone trilled, startling her. He grabbed it and pried it open. “Yes?”
He listened for a moment, then closed his eyes. “Thank God. Are you sure you’re both okay?”
The tension whooshed out of her like air out of a balloon. She leaned closer to catch what Charles was saying, and Michael turned the phone so she could hear more clearly.
“…fine. But that scum from Midland didn’t like it one bit. They were trapped, though.” Charles chuckled. “They didn’t have a choice. When I told that state trooper they were just leaving, they had to walk out. If they hadn’t left, the Smoky would have known something was wrong.”
“Brilliant as usual, Charles.”
“You were pretty good, yourself, to figure out there was a problem.”
Michael glanced at Eleanor. “I had some help.”
“You mean the woman is still with you?” Charles’s voice became sharper. “The one you supposedly kidnapped?”
“I did kidnap her, but we got past that a long time ago.”
Charles’ voice took on a note of incredulity. “You mean she’s there voluntarily now?”
“I think so.” Michael glanced over at her and Ellie nodded vigorously. “But we’ve got a problem. I can’t let her go back to Midland because the cops know who she is. I was going to leave her with you and Betty.”
“Can’t do that,” Charles said immediately. “That scum will be back. This time we’ll be ready, but she still shouldn’t be here. Just in case.”
“How did they get into the house, anyway?”
Ellie could almost see Charles growl through the phone. “Betty went outside to fill her bird feeders. The cops must have been here for a while, watching. As soon as she stepped away from the house they grabbed her. They were holding a gun to her head so I had to let them in.”
“They’ll pay for that,” Michael said, his voice low and deadly. “Believe me, they’ll pay.”
“You worry about getting your information to the FBI. I’ll take care of Betty.”
“Any suggestions about where I can leave Ellie?”
“Don’t leave her anywhere,” Charles said immediately. “Any place that either you or I think of, those dirtbags will eventually think of, too.”
“It’s too dangerous to keep her with me.”
“It’s more dangerous to leave her behind,” he said sharply. “I saw those men, looked into their eyes. They have nothing to lose. If they think she’s a witness, they won’t hesitate to kill her.”
“What about you?”
“We’ll be fine. They don’t think I know anything worthwhile. They just wanted to us
e me to get to you. And I played dumb.” He laughed abruptly. “Pretended I was confused, that I had no idea what was going on. I played right into those idiots’ stereotypes of a senile old fart.”
Michael grinned. “I’d like to have seen that.”
“It was a masterful performance, if I do say so myself.”
“I’ll bet it was.” Michael looked at Ellie. “We’d better get going,” he said. “I want this to end as soon as possible.”
“I agree.” There was no more laughter in Charles’s voice. “Contact Fred Gorman at the FBI office in Chicago. I know him and trust him. I’ll let him know you’re coming.”
“Got it,” Michael agreed, scribbling the name down on a piece of newspaper. “I’ll talk to you as soon as I have more information.”
“Hold on a minute. Betty wants to talk to you.”
“Thank you for sending the cavalry.” Her voice was clear and strong. “Charles won’t tell you, but it was touch and go there for a while. Those men were clearly desperate.”
“You both be careful,” Michael answered. “I’ll let you know as soon as my information is delivered to the FBI.”
“Believe me, the birds will be going hungry until then,” she said, a rueful tone in her voice. “Charles warned me not to go outside, but I thought it would only take a moment to get to the feeders and back.”
“I’ll keep in touch,” Michael said.
But before he could close the phone, Betty said, “There were two more things.”
“What’s that?”
“You were on television,” she said, her voice somber. “Just before the Midland cops got here, they showed pictures of both of you. Said you were on the run and the woman was your hostage, that you were armed and dangerous, and that anyone who saw you should contact the Midland Police Department.”
Michael swore violently under his breath. “Thanks, Betty. We’ll be careful.”
“Can you get some kind of disguise?” she asked, worry in her voice. “You know, the kind of thing you used to do when you were undercover?”
“Yeah,” he said, glancing at Ellie. “We’ll think of something. What was the second thing?”
“Charles will tell you.”
“Are you here in Pinckney?” It was Charles’s voice again.
“Yeah, less than five minutes away.”
“They’ll be looking for you. They heard your car in the driveway, and they’ve probably figured out it was you who called the police. You can bet they’re still around.”
“So what else is new?” Ellie heard the weariness in Michael’s voice.
“There’s an old farm road that isn’t used much anymore. It’s nothing more than a rutted dirt track, but I doubt if any of the Midland cops know about it. If you can get to the feed store without being seen, you’ll be able to get past them.”
Charles gave directions to the store and the road, then Michael said, “I’ll talk to you soon. And thanks, Charles.”
“No thanks necessary. I should be thanking you for saving our rear ends.”
“No thanks necessary.” Michael echoed Charles’s words, but there was a softness in his voice that Ellie hadn’t heard before. After a moment, he slowly closed his phone.
He stared down at it for a long time. Finally he looked up at her. “Thank you, Ellie,” he said, so quietly she could barely hear him. “I don’t want to think about what could have happened if you hadn’t insisted I check on Charles.”
“You would have done it on your own,” she said immediately.
He shook his head. “Maybe eventually. And who knows what might have happened in the meantime?” He looked up at her, his eyes dark and full of pain. “I owe you.”
“I’ll just add it to your tab,” she said, trying to lighten the mood.
He managed a small smile. “You do that.” The car started with a whimper and he pulled out of the parking lot.
After a few moments on the main street, Michael turned onto a side street lined with quiet old houses shaded by large silver maples.
“How far is it to the feed store?” Ellie asked, looking over her shoulder.
“Just a few blocks. And we’ll take side streets.”
He hadn’t seen her this nervous since he’d first snatched her, and he wanted to reach over and take her hand. Instead, he forced himself to grip the steering wheel and keep his eyes on his driving.
“We shouldn’t have to go onto a main road again,” Michael said, trying to sound reassuring. “And the cops can’t search every street in Pinckney. They’ll be watching the route in and out of town.”
“How many Midland officers do you think are here?” She tried to make it sound like a casual question, but he could hear the fear in her voice.
“More than enough,” he answered grimly. “But, hey,” he added, trying to take her mind off the danger, “none of them have my secret weapon.”
“And what would that be?”
“You.”
She gave a snort. “Then we’re in worse shape than I thought. Can’t you see I’m falling apart here?”
She tried hard to make it sound like a joke, but he was afraid it was true. “Really?” Raising his eyebrows, he gave her an exaggerated leer. “Can I be the one to put the pieces back together?”
At least he was able to surprise a laugh out of her. “That was good, Reilly. You’re quick. But don’t worry, I won’t hold you to it.”
He wanted to be held to it, he realized. Even though—as he kept reminding himself—Eleanor Perkins was the absolute last woman on earth he should get involved with, he couldn’t forget the way her body had felt pressed against him, or the way her mouth tasted.
Or the almost innocent wonder she’d displayed as her body reacted to his.
He shifted uncomfortably on the seat, cursing silently. He damn well better get his mind where it belonged.
“Do you remember what that car in Charles’s yard looked like?” he asked, his voice almost curt.
He felt her glance at him. But all she said was, “Yes, I think so.”
“Then keep an eye open for it. And let me know if you see anything at all that makes you nervous.”
“Okay.”
Michael knew people dealt with stress better if they had a job to do. And he hoped that watching for the cops would keep Ellie occupied until they were out of Pinckney.
They were crossing a busier street, heading toward the feed store, when Ellie shot upright in the seat. “There, down the road about a block. Wasn’t that the car in Charles’s driveway?”
Michael looked in that direction, then hit the accelerator and steered the car toward the store. “Yeah,” he said, rage welling up inside him like a dark, poisonous cloud. “That’s them. Keep watching to see if they come after us.”
He held his breath as he maneuvered around to the parking lot in the rear. Several pickup trucks idled alongside the loading dock, and a handful of other cars waited nearby. Once the building hid Eleanor and Michael from the street, he stopped and looked at her.
“Well?”
“They didn’t move, at least not before we got be hind the store.” Her face was sheet-white and her eyes looked enormous. “What now?”
“Now we find this dirt road and get the hell out of Dodge.”
He steered the car slowly past the parked cars and trucks, searching for Charles’s escape route. “Where is that damn track?” he muttered, turning the car around. “Charles wouldn’t have mentioned it if he wasn’t sure it was here.”
“How about that?” She pointed at what looked like nothing more than a rut between two rows of brush.
“Let’s give it a try,” he said. The opening in the vegetation was so narrow that he figured they’d be backing out in a few minutes.
The car bounced and swayed as he steered it into the narrow lane. Weeds scraped the car on both sides and overgrown scrub vegetation formed a canopy overtop, filtering the bright sunshine to in shady green. But the track continued.
“This
must be it,” he said, holding tightly to the steering wheel. The car jerked in one direction, then another as it struggled through the deep, ragged ruts in the dirt. “Charles wasn’t kidding when he said this road wasn’t used much anymore.”
“No one is following us,” Ellie said as she stared out the rear window.
“Good thing,” he said grimly. “Because we sure wouldn’t be able to outrun anyone.”
They struggled along for several minutes until they emerged into bright daylight again. They crept up a slight incline and crossed a gravel road, then the track disappeared between six-foot-high rows of corn.
Green light enveloped them again, the air heavy with the pungent smell of dirt, humidity and growing plants. “Looks like we’re taking the scenic route,” he said, glancing in Ellie’s direction.
She managed a tight smile. “If we can’t see where we’re going, no one else can, either.”
“You’re right.” He held on to the steering wheel as the car bounced and swayed. “I just hope it isn’t this scenic for very long. I don’t think the suspension can take it.”
“How far do we go on this trail?” she said, leaning forward.
“According to Charles, it loops around behind Pinckney for a couple of miles. Then it crosses the highway out of town. We drive through more corn for another mile or so, then meet up with the highway again. So if there’s no one waiting for us at this first crossing, we should be okay.”
“Good.”
Her voice was a subdued murmur in the dim green light in the car. He glanced at her sharply again, but she stared out the window, her back unnaturally straight. It looked as if she was holding herself together with nothing more than grim determination.
“You’re not wimping out on me, are you?” he asked, alarmed.
When she turned to face him, her gaze bored into him. “What exactly do you mean by that?”
“I mean you’re not going to get hysterical, are you?”
“I have never gotten hysterical in my life.”
He glanced at her again, at the outraged expression on her face and the indignation in her eyes. “Maybe that’s your problem,” he murmured. “Maybe it would loosen you up.”
“I’m as loose as I intend to get,” she replied coldly.
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