by Rebecca York
The first cut was the worst. He kept going, working his way from the center back to the front—when the music cut off on the radio.
“We interrupt our regular programing with a special news report.”
His hand stopped in mid cut.
“They’re probably announcing we’re on the run,” he muttered.
“Yes.”
When he heard the words, “A detective with the Maryland State Police has been killed in a shootout with dangerous fugitives Gage and Lily Darnell,” he went rigid.
Lily whirled toward the radio, her eyes wide. “What?”
He waved her to silence. “Quiet.”
Fighting a feeling of déjà vu, he reached inside the car and turned up the volume.
“Darnell and his wife should be considered armed and dangerous. Darnell is six feet, one eighty pounds, dark hair and dark eyes. His wife is five feet five, blond, blue eyes. At the time of the shooting, Darnell was on the run from a previous murder charge. Do not approach the couple.”
The report went on. “The police will release the name of the slain detective after his family has been notified.”
When the regular programing resumed, Gage slammed his fists against the side of the car, pain radiating from his knuckles.
“Two detectives came to our house—Rand McClellan and Richard Francis,” Lily murmured. “And they showed up again at the Wilson estate.”
“It’s probably one of them.”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“When I heard the shots back at Oak Lawn, I didn’t know what to think. Now one of the detectives is dead and somebody’s trying to pin it on me.”
Lily looked around as though she expected a police car to pull up next to them in the parking lot, and cops jumping out with guns blazing. “We have to get out of town,” she breathed. “Before they box us in.”
He gave her a fierce look. “I’m not leaving.”
“Every cop on the Eastern Shore will be looking for us.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Then…”
“You can clear out. I have to find out what happened when they stormed the campsite. I’m not going to let them make me a scapegoat again. Lily, I’ve got two murder charges hanging over me.”
She took her lower lip between her teeth.
He felt a stab of pain as a new possibility struck him. “What? You think I killed that detective while you were hightailing it for the river?”
“Of course not!”
“But you’re thinking that there’s not much chance of ever clearing myself.”
“I didn’t say that.” She looked down at her hands.
“You’d better leave. I won’t drag you down with me.”
She raised her gaze to his. “I’m not going to leave you.” Brushing her fingers across the side of her hair that he’d chopped off, she added, “Besides, you need to finish the cutting job or I’m going to look like I ran into a crazed beautician.”
It was a poor attempt at a joke, but he managed a small grin. Their gazes locked for several heartbeats, then she turned away and he began to cut her hair again, silently struggling to hold his hand steady.
Grimly, he worked the scissors, trying to keep from making a mess of her hair. He felt like that cartoon character with the dark cloud hanging over his head. Only Lily was standing out in the storm with him—and he couldn’t even insist that she go back home. He was sure they already knew that he hadn’t kidnapped his wife this time. Or if he had, she’d changed sides pretty quickly.
“Sorry,” he muttered.
“Maybe I’m the one who led them to you,” she said in a barely audible voice.
He wanted to issue a denial, but that could be true. Instead he kept working, feeling the tension between them was thick enough to cut with the scissors.
“How is it?” she said when he stepped back.
“Fine,” he answered automatically.
She picked up the can of spray dye she’d bought and bent over so she could look in the side mirror. She gave her hair a tentative spritz of brown spray and used the brush to work it in.
Glancing up, she asked, “How do I look?”
“I hear blondes have more fun.”
LILY WORKED more brown into her hair, stopping to inspect the results in the car’s side mirror.
Not very professional, but it was the best she could do out here in the parking lot.
After the radio announcement, she was feeling numb, and she needed to sit down. But when she saw that Gage was cleaning up the blacktop, she turned to help him. Getting down on her knees, she swept up clumps of blond hair with her hands.
“We’ve got most of it. At least I don’t think a casual passerby will notice anything,” Gage muttered.
“I’ll bet the birds will take the rest of it away for nests,” she answered.
“Right. Our good deed for the day.”
She could see he was struggling for calm, so she took the hair to a wooded area and scattered it around. When she came back, he cleared his throat. “If I could get you out of danger, I would. As things stand now, if the cops catch us, you could get hurt.”
Hurt. Or killed. He hadn’t said it, but she read it between the lines.
She folded her arms across her chest, feeling the chilled skin.
“We need to get off the streets, and the cops will be checking the motels,” Gage said. “I had been trying to avoid breaking the law too much, but now…” He sighed. “The beach is the perfect place for breaking and entering, with renters moving in and out. Plus, this is after the end of the season, so there should be vacant properties. We can look for isolated beach houses that are empty.”
“Okay,” she agreed.
He looked surprised that she hadn’t given him an argument, but she was still trying to think through what had happened.
“You know more about this than I do. I’ll try not to get in the way,” she said in a low voice.
She’d wanted him to say she wasn’t in the way. But he only nodded and went back to the trunk. When he reappeared, he was wearing a backward baseball cap. It didn’t hide his face, but the salt-and-pepper wig sticking out below the cap made him look like an entirely different guy. The sunglasses he donned added to the easy transformation.
She felt her jaw drop as she stared at him. “I wouldn’t know you. Were did you get the wig?”
“One of those dollar stores they have all over the place around here.”
They drove away from the restaurant and into an area where the lots were fairly large.
“Look for closed blinds, no cars.” Gage advised. “If possible, we’d like an area where the neighbors aren’t home, either.”
After a half hour, they found a house he thought was suitable.
“WAIT HERE,” Gage said after driving around the back.
He watched Lily lean back against the seat and close her eyes. She looked whipped.
But why not? The last two hours had been pretty traumatic. He was wrung out, too, but he knew he couldn’t rest yet.
Glancing back, he saw her pale face. He wished she’d protest about breaking into another house. Really, he wished she’d tell him she was going back to Baltimore where her parents would hide her. But she only sat there, feigning sleep.
Was she upset enough that he could persuade her to get on a plane out of the country? But she’d need a passport for that. He could probably get her one under a false name, but that would take up valuable time.
He sighed. He’d wanted her with him, now he’d gotten his wish, and it wasn’t working out the way he’d thought.
Trying not to clench his jaw, he walked to the back door and put his hand on the knob, sending his mind into the lock. Now that he had some experience manipulating the physical world, the sensation was becoming familiar.
He stopped just inside the front door, listening. Then he walked rapidly around the house, making sure that every room was empty. The place was a typical upscale furnished beach house with most of th
e living area on the second floor. There were five bedrooms, a great room next to an open kitchen, a partial view of the river and a hot tub on the deck.
He felt a spurt of elation when he saw the bright yellow card by the phone. Someone had left a welcome note for the next rental occupants—for three weeks from the present date.
Elation was followed by guilt as he thought about how quickly his values had changed. He was the owner of a security company, for Lord’s sake. Now breaking into other people’s property was as routine as installing alarm systems.
LILY KEPT her head turned toward the door, waiting for Gage to reappear and praying that he hadn’t run into any trouble.
She told herself that he was just being thorough. But she couldn’t relax until she saw him open the door and amble back to the car as though he had nothing better to do than enjoy a vacation on the Eastern Shore.
“Nobody’s going to be here for the next three weeks,” he informed her.
“Good,” she answered, praying they wouldn’t be there for anywhere near that long. On the other hand, what was the alternative?
Did she really think that Gage could clear his name in the next few weeks? Every time he made a move, the situation went farther downhill. And she’d only made things worse by showing up.
When she saw he was watching her, she climbed out of the car and picked up the duffel bag, then headed for the house while Gage brought in his equipment. In the main bathroom, she used the facilities. Then, because she wanted to be alone for a while, she evened up the ends of her hair and worked in some more brown dye.
As she fussed with her hair, she tried to figure out what to do. Was it better to stay with him, or would he have a better chance on his own?
Slowly she walked back to the great room. It was dark and silent, and she felt a stab of panic.
Had he led her, then cut and run—
For her own good?
When she heard the door open and close on the entry level, she felt a surge of relief. Hurrying to the railing, she saw Gage standing in the lower hall, his shoulders slumped.
In that moment, he didn’t look like the Gage Darnell she’d always known. He’d always been upbeat. Sure of himself and sure of his goals. Not now.
As if he sensed she was watching, he looked up and saw her, then straightened. Briskly he walked up the stairs.
“How do you like the kitchen?” he asked.
“It’s fine,” she said, even though she’d hardly given it a glance.
“I know a good kitchen is important to you.”
“Something else is on your mind,” she said quietly.
She watched him shift his weight from one foot to the other.
“Nothing. I mean…well, I checked the house. There’s no computer. And I need one to hack into the Cranesbrook system.” He scuffed his foot against the tile floor. “I could buy one, but it’s safer for you to go out. Are you willing to do it?”
Instead of giving him a direct answer, she said, “Computers aren’t exactly my strong suit. What am I supposed to buy, and where do I get it?”
“Your best bet is probably a big-box office-supply store. We passed a couple between here and the drugstore. Just get whatever they’ve got on sale.”
When he started ticking off the specifications, she stopped him. “Write it down.”
He picked up the pad beside the phone and began making a list.
She watched him for a minute, then restlessly started opening kitchen cabinets. There were enough pots and pans and utensils to put together a decent meal. And the previous renters had left some basic supplies.
“Here,” he said, holding out the pad.
“Do we have enough cash to pay for a computer?” she asked.
“These days you can get all that for under a thousand dollars,” he said, giving her another wad of cash. “And if you can find a deal that includes a black-and-white printer, get it. I don’t care about durability. We’re not going to need it for long.”
She turned toward the door, then stopped as she realized she might not be going anywhere. “I can’t start the car with my mind. Do you happen to have a key?”
“Yeah. There was one in a magnetic box under the right front fender. It’s in the glove compartment now.” He gave her a key to the house, which was in the drawer under the phone, then walked outside with her.
Before she climbed into the car, he put his hand on her shoulder. “Maybe it’s not such a good idea for you to go out,” he muttered.
“I’m fine,” she lied, then reached for him.
He gave her a hard kiss, and she clung to him for heartbeats before easing away and inserting the key in the ignition.
As she pulled away, she knew the time had come to make a major decision. Return to this house and Gage—or drive away and not come back.
Chapter Thirteen
Lily headed toward the Bay Bridge, wondering if she should keep going and take her chances back in Baltimore. Assuming they didn’t have a roadblock there by now.
She’d thought she was so clever switching places with Pam so she could go look for Gage. Then she’d found him—and led the police right to his hiding place.
Was she going to keep making things worse by sticking around? If so, she should clear out.
If she stayed, she wanted to help Gage—not get him arrested.
Well, he’d given her a job to do. He needed the computer, and she was going to buy it for him—without getting into trouble.
After pulling into the parking lot of the office-supply store, she took several deep breaths, then climbed out of the car. Inside, she played the part of a ditz-brained housewife who had saved up to buy the family their first computer.
The young sales clerk was glad to steer her through the purchasing process, unaware he was dealing with a woman wanted for the murder of a police detective.
By the time she’d paid for the machine and gotten a staffer to load it in the car, she was feeling a few degrees more confident, so she made a quick stop at a discount department store and bought some clothing. After changing in a dressing room, she made one more stop—at a grocery store, where she bought breakfast food and the ingredients of a simple meal she knew Gage loved—steak, baked potatoes and salad.
She was hurrying to the express checkout line, when she realized she’d pushed her luck one beat too far.
A uniformed police officer was standing at the front of the store, scanning the crowd. And she knew that he wasn’t there by accident. He was looking for the fugitives.
The cop’s gaze swung toward her, and she forgot to breathe normally as he gave her a once-over, then scanned the other shoppers. Well, here was where she found out if her new haircut and dye job passed inspection.
Hoping she didn’t look as though her heart was pounding inside her chest, she stepped into the shortest line and waited until she reached the checker.
Once she’d paid for her purchases, she walked smartly to the exit, put her groceries in the backseat of her stolen car and drove straight to the beach house, with a better appreciation of what Gage’s life had been like for the past two weeks.
Because the computer was heavy, she left it in the car and carried her other purchases inside.
When she came up the stairs to the great room, Gage was sitting on the sofa staring at the television. He was watching CNN, and she went rigid when she saw that the Eastern Shore murder had made the national news.
Apparently he wasn’t aware that she’d entered the room, because he didn’t turn. He was staring at his photograph on the screen.
She set down her bags at the top of the steps. She might have gone right to Gage, but she was stopped in her tracks as she saw her own face flash on the screen.
The next picture was of a man in a business suit. Richard Francis. The announcer said he had been shot and killed while trying to apprehend the dangerous Darnell couple. Nobody at the site had actually seen Darnell and his wife, but evidence inside the tent suggested that they’d been campi
ng there.
When she heard that bit of news, Lily winced, and Gage whirled around, the Sig in his hand.
She went stock-still when she saw the weapon pointed at her.
Cursing, he set the gun on the coffee table. “Sorry, I’m a little jumpy.”
She gave a small nod, then gestured toward the TV. “I guess it wouldn’t have done much good to clear out of the area.”
“This is the modern era with the twenty-minute news cycle where a juicy local story leaps into the national spotlight. Like that woman who rescued her husband when he was being transported from court to jail and they killed a cop in the process.”
“We didn’t kill anyone.”
“Let’s hope we can prove it,” he said, his voice grim.
She walked past him and picked up the remote control from the coffee table.
“I think we’ve had enough television,” she murmured. After shutting off the set, she turned back to Gage and took in the bleak look on his face.
“What’s wrong? Did something else happen?”
He looked down at his hands, then back at her. “You were gone a long time. I thought maybe you weren’t coming back,” he said, his voice gritty.
“I thought about leaving,” she whispered.
“I understand why you wouldn’t want to stick with a murder suspect.”
“Lord, Gage, that’s not it at all.”
“Then what?”
“I was feeling like I screwed things up for you. I was thinking that if I’d never come looking for you, you’d be a lot better off now.”
“No!” She saw him swallow hard. “It means a lot to me that you wanted to be with me. A hell of a lot,” he said, his voice full of emotion. “It wasn’t your fault how it turned out.”
She could have debated the point, but he didn’t let her. He was seven feet away from her, and he didn’t get up from the couch, but she felt something like the touch of his fingertips against her hair, sweeping loose strands gently back from her face.