His knuckles went white as his grip locked onto the wheel. “What Cuba thing?”
His words were so curt they made Cat think of bits of gravel hitting the windshield. She instantly wished she’d kept her mouth shut. “Nothing, really. Just that that’s where the car was before they had it shipped to Canada.”
“Cuba?”
That sounded more like a rock slide than a bit of gravel.
“Don’t shout. Yes, Cuba.”
“I knew it. I could feel it.”
“Feel what?”
“That this was bad news from the start.”
“Just because the car came from Cuba?”
“Yes, because the car came from Cuba. You are aware that this country has a trade embargo against Cuba?”
“I suppose. I don’t see where it’s such a big problem, though.”
“You can’t see why smuggling is such a big problem?” he demanded, incredulous.
“Smuggling seems a little strong a word. After all, the car was made here in America. Just think of it as having been temporarily misplaced.”
He glanced at her in disbelief. “Temporarily misplaced? For thirty some odd years?”
She shrugged.
He shook his head as if dazed. “I can’t believe I just smuggled a car across the border.”
“Don’t be so dramatic. Smuggling conjures up images of boxes of cigars hidden in suitcases.”
“Maybe I ought to have another look at your suitcases.”
She ignored his sarcasm. “We simply drove across the border. There’s no law against bringing a car here from Canada, is there?”
“Yes. If the car came from Cuba originally.”
“Oh. Well, then.”
Silence filled the car. She could feel his anger simmering.
“I guess that explains why Gator kept telling me to be careful not to draw any undue attention to myself coming through customs.”
“And that didn’t set off any bells inside your head?”
“Bells are always going off inside my head. I simply thought he was warning me because he knows that at times I can be a little...flamboyant.”
“How very reassuring,” he drawled.
Cat was silent for a minute or so, trying to decide if she really wanted to hear his answer before she posed the question. What the heck, she decided finally. Things could hardly get much worse.
“So what do you plan to do now?”
“Do? You mean about the car?”
“Yes.”
“Are you asking if I plan to turn you in at the nearest police station?”
Her shrug was regally unconcerned. Her heart was pounding. Actually she hadn’t considered that possibility at all.
“It’s an option,” she said.
“True. But then I’d have to go back and explain to the general how I played a part in your serving five to seven in a federal slammer. I think I’ll pass.”
Cat breathed a sigh of relief and decided to quit while she was, if not exactly ahead, at least not behind bars. She could see now that she really should have checked out this whole Cuba angle more thoroughly.
He wasn’t as eager to let it drop.
“Do you have any idea what the general would say if he knew you were involved in something like this?”
“I wouldn’t really say I was involved,” she began, breaking off in the face of his pointed stare. “All right, maybe I am involved, but I’m not responsible for where the car came from, for pity’s sake.
“As for what Uncle Hank would say,” she continued, “he would say, ‘That’s all right, Cat, do better next time.’”
Hunter rolled his eyes. “That explains a hell of a lot. What he ought to tell you is why the embargo exists in the first place, about all the men who...”
Cat listened to the entire lecture on foreign policy in silence.
“Does any of that mean anything to you?” he demanded at the end.
“Of course it means something to me.”
“What?”
She smiled a smile so sweet no one could possibly doubt her sincerity. “It means I’ll have to try harder next time.”
He threw up his hands, reclaiming the wheel just in time to keep the car from sliding into a passing Jeep.
With not much left to say on the subject, they drove in silence for a few moments. After a while Hunter picked up her birth certificate from where he’d placed it on the seat beside him and handed it to her.
“Better take care of this before it blows away,” he suggested, giving it another quick glance as he handed it to her. “Born in seventy-three, hmm? That makes you—”
“Twenty-two,” she supplied. “Plenty old enough to know better.”
“Better than whom?”
“Better than guys who think the way to a woman’s heart is to call her names and cast aspersions on her motives...if not her intelligence.”
If she’d expected him to deny it or apologize in an attempt to soothe her feelings, she would have been sorely disappointed.
“Trust me, Tiger,” was all he said, “I’m not looking for a way to your heart.”
Cat felt her cheeks grow warm. “It was meant as a joke. I’m sorry if it sounded as if I’d jumped to the wrong conclusion.”
“No need to go getting all huffy. It’s no reflection on you that I’m not interested. You’re simply too young and not my type.”
“I see. Exactly what is your type?”
“For starters, someone born a decade earlier and who’s not old Lucifer’s niece.”
“Lucifer?”
“Sorry,” he said, wincing slightly. “I probably shouldn’t have said that to you.”
“But you did, so you might as well explain. You call Uncle Hank Lucifer?”
“Not to his face. It was sort of an inside joke in our unit. No one knew what the L stood for in Henry L. Hollister, so one of the guys tagged him with Lucifer and it stuck.”
“Lucifer. Now there’s a nickname that fits like a glove...at least in some of Uncle Hank’s darker moments. Does he know you call him that?”
“No. And it better stay that way,” he warned.
“I don’t know, I think maybe you should tell him. I’m sure he’d prefer it to what the L really stands for.”
“What’s that?”
“Leopold.”
He laughed.
“I guess I shouldn’t have told you that,” she said ruefully.
“So now we’re even...both vulnerable and both armed to retaliate.”
“Right,” Cat echoed, “now we’re even.”
The problem was, she didn’t feel even. She felt confused. As they came upon the first rest stop, she was also feeling undecided, so she let it go by without asking him to stop as she had intended. Sometimes, especially when he turned and gave her that half-smile that had mischief written all over it, Hunter seemed less like a soldier and more like someone she didn’t mind having around. She wasn’t worried about making the long drive to Florida alone, but she wasn’t a loner by nature and couldn’t deny that it would be more fun to have someone along, someone to talk with and share meals with and point out things of interest. But it ought to be someone of her own choosing, she reminded herself, and in spite of that smile, Bolton Hunter would not have been her choice. If she’d wanted someone around to lecture her and second-guess her every move, she would have brought along Uncle Hank. By the time the next rest stop came into sight she legitimately needed to use the facilities, and she’d talked herself into going with her original plan.
“Hunter, there’s a rest stop coming up in about a mile and I really need to stop.”
“No problem.”
He signaled to move to the right lane and steered into the rest stop parking lot.
“Make it quick,” he told her as she stuck her feet into her sandals and reached for the door handle.
Cat turned to him in surprise. “Aren’t you coming in?”
He shook his head. “I’m all set for now.”
/> Damn, Cat thought. “You ought to at least get out and stretch your legs. I know my legs are feeling cramped and I haven’t been driving all this time. There’s no telling how long it will be before the next stop.”
“They’re usually pretty regular on the interstates.”
“Don’t you at least want something cold to drink?”
He appeared surprised that she’d thought to ask. He considered it for a moment and nodded. “That does sound good.”
“Great,” she said, hoping her sunglasses hid most of the giddy relief that swept through her.
“Just bring me whatever you’re having,” he told her.
“No way,” she shot back, irked. “I may not be doing the driving right now, but that doesn’t make me your errand boy.”
“If there’s one thing I would never dream of wanting you to be,” he countered, amusement heavy in his deep voice, “it’s a boy. Errand or otherwise.”
“Very funny. You can still fetch your own drink.”
“Fine. I’ll go in as soon as you get back. That way we won’t have to put the top up,” he explained before she had a chance to question him. “Besides, I don’t much like the idea of leaving this car unattended in a public parking lot where anybody can walk by and break something.”
“It’s nice to see you take my responsibility so seriously,” Cat muttered as she climbed out and slammed the door behind her. “I’ll be back in a jiff.”
“Take your time,” he said.
Cat glanced at him. “What happened to ‘make it quick’?”
“I shouldn’t have been so impatient with you. Go ahead and stretch your legs and freshen up or whatever it is you need to do. There’s no hurry.”
Not for you, maybe, she thought as she started up the tree-shaded path to the building, which housed restroom facilities as well as an assortment of fast-food counters where the hungry and road-weary could get everything from gourmet chocolate chip cookies to tacos.
Cat made her quickest visit ever to the ladies’ room, then stopped to buy a pretzel and a diet soda on her way out. The pretzel was for later. At the moment she was too apprehensive to eat, and her hands, which she had just dried on a paper towel, were damp and slightly unsteady.
“Your turn,” she said brightly to Hunter when she returned to the car.
He stepped outside and stretched mightily, drawing her unwilling attention to his broad shoulders and the well-defined muscles in his arms. He was deceiving, she observed. Her first impression had been that his build was lean and rangy, like a runner’s, more suited for speed than power. She could see now that his long limbs and easy grace belied real strength, consciously honed strength, she was sure. It wasn’t hard to imagine him doing an obscene number of push-ups each morning. And probably at an ungodly hour, as well, when most normal people like herself were still tucked under the covers.
“I won’t be long,” he told her. Halfway across the sidewalk he stopped and turned to her. “Catch,” he called and waited for her to lift her hand in anticipation before tossing her the keys. “Might as well leave those here,” he said. “Just don’t try anything stupid.”
Cat’s eyes blinked rapidly behind her dark glasses. “Stupid?”
“Right. Like playing the radio without starting the engine. No telling what shape the battery is in.”
“I won’t,” she promised. She had no intention of making any stupid mistakes. That’s why she hadn’t mentioned to him the extra key in her purse and why she now waited until he had disappeared into the building before carefully placing the cardboard carton containing her drink and pretzel on the floor of the passenger side.
Reaching into the back for his jacket and duffel bag, she arranged them carefully on the sidewalk where he was sure to see them when he returned. A small flutter of guilt caused her to hesitate as it occurred to her that someone else might come along and steal his things before he got back. She forced herself to shrug it off. That probably wouldn’t happen, and if it did, he needed a new jacket anyway. The fact that he was one of the high-paid consultants recruited by Uncle Hank left her no doubt that he could afford one.
Her conscience appeased, she hurriedly slid behind the wheel.
“At last,” she exclaimed, chuckling under her breath. Grinning broadly, she adjusted the outside and rearview mirrors so that she was able to see, fit the key into the ignition and turned it. There was no rough purr as there had been when Hunter had started the engine. There wasn’t even a sputter to suggest life under the hood.
Cat frowned. Then she fiddled with the key, pumped the gas and crossed her fingers as she tried again.
Chapter Four
Once inside the rest stop, Bolt didn’t hurry. In this case, time was as good as rope, and he wanted to give Cat plenty to hang herself with if that was her intent. If they were going to be traveling together, he needed to know for sure where he stood.
He found a phone booth away from the main concourse and placed a call to the general at his office. Hollister’s secretary had obviously been instructed to put him through right away.
“Hunter, how’s it going?” the general asked by way of greeting.
“About as you expected, I’d say,” Bolt replied in a dry tone. “I’ve had a few surprises, though.”
“Such as?”
“Catrina Amelia Bandini.”
Hollister chuckled. “I did tell you she had a mind of her own.”
“Yes, you did. What you failed to tell me was that she would be in Montreal when I got there. Just like you neglected to tell her that you’d arranged for me to take her place.”
“I couldn’t tell her,” he explained with no hint of contrition. “She would never have agreed to a scheme like that, and to give her advance warning would have only created more problems.”
“So you left it to me to break the news to her?” Bolt demanded, exasperated.
“I didn’t have any choice.” The general’s voice dropped to a cautious note. “How’d she take it, anyway?”
“Let’s just say I have a feeling she likes me even less than you predicted.”
Hollister found that very amusing. Bolt rolled his eyes as he waited for his chuckling to stop.
“I’m sure she was madder than an old wet hen when you told her that you were taking her place,” the general said at last, “and believe me, I know from experience that Cat can be a handful when she’s angry. I also know how resourceful she can be when she wants her own way. That’s why I picked you for the job. I told myself that if there was a man alive who couldn’t be hoodwinked by her tears or her sweet talk, it was you.”
Bolt kneaded the spot between his eyes where a dull throbbing had begun. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, sir, but—”
“No buts,” he interrupted. “And no false modesty. Just tell me one thing—did you make sure she got safely to the airport?”
“No, sir,” Bolt replied. “There was no need to take her to the airport, because she made it clear she didn’t have any intention of flying home.”
“Wanted to stay and see the sights up there for a few days, did she? All right, no harm in that, I suppose. I’ll just call her hotel and—”
“No, sir, she didn’t stay in Montreal. Your niece is here with me. Well, not exactly right here in the phone booth,” he amended. “Actually she’s outside in the rest area parking lot.”
“What the devil is she doing out there?” the general demanded in a thundering tone.
“Unless I’ve lost my knack for anticipating trouble, right about now she’s tossing my stuff on the sidewalk and getting ready to take off and leave me here in the middle of nowhere.”
“Alone? She’s going to take off alone? And you’re letting her? I thought I made it clear—”
“Relax, General, I disconnected a few wires before I left her with the car.”
“You did? Of course, you did. I knew you’d stay one step ahead of her. But how the dickens did you end up bringing her along in the first place?”
“All right,” Hollister agreed, reluctance in his tone. “But I’m not sure I like it. A young girl traveling all that way with a man she doesn’t even know. This isn’t what I had in mind, Hunter.”
“I don’t especially like the arrangement myself, General Hollister, and I venture to say she isn’t all that thrilled with it, either. But I don’t see as any of us has much choice at this point.”
“All right, I’ll accept that. But I still don’t relish the idea much. The only reason I’m going along with it at all is because I know that you’re a gentleman, Hunter, and I know that you know I expect you to keep that in mind at all times.”
“Oh, I will, sir,” he replied, wondering if the gentleman’s code ruled out gagging her as an option to quiet her should the need arise. “Now I better go. I wouldn’t count on a few disconnected wires to stymie your niece for very long.”
“Smart man. Go ahead then, but check in with me again from time to time.”
“Will do.”
“And remember one last thing, Hunter. That’s my little girl you have riding shotgun. Take good care of her. Or else.”
After witnessing the aplomb with which she’d handled things so far, Bolt was of the opinion that his “little girl” was a lot more capable of taking care of herself than her uncle thought. Still, if only in the interest of his own job security, he vowed to take the general’s warning to heart.
Stopping in the men’s room, he automatically chose the sink at the far end of the long row of stainless steel fixtures and gray tile wall and bent to splash water on his face. When he straightened, beads of water still blurring his vision, he caught a glimpse of something red close beside him and instinctively flinched. He blinked rapidly to clear his eyes and figured out that it was just the plaid shirt sleeve of the guy using the sink next to his.
Bolt leaned on the sink, head down, and drew a deep breath. Three years away from the game and he still didn’t like people coming up on him without warning.
Rinsing the soap from his hands, he slanted the man an annoyed glance. At least two dozen sinks not being used and he had to pick that one.
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