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Undercover Vows

Page 19

by Judi Lind


  “Oh my god—not Dad!” She jumped to her feet and picked up her purse. “We’d better hurry.”

  She had wondered what ruse Dale would come up with if she faltered, and like a trained assassin, he’d aimed directly for her most vulnerable spot. Even knowing it was a lie, her heart still pounded with anxiety. Dale Cabot was a desperate man. There didn’t seem to be any depth to which he wouldn’t sink to achieve his end.

  Leading the way into the lobby, she said, “The package is in the hotel safe.”

  He followed close on her heels as she walked toward the registration desk. The “clerk” on duty was Lieutenant Reseda. But he scarcely made eye contact when Keely handed him her claim check. A moment later he returned with the package. “Will there be anything else, Ms. Travers?”

  “No, that’s all. Thank you.”

  “Don’t you have to check out, pay your bill?” Dale asked, taking the parcel from her hands.

  “No. I paid when I checked in. I’m ready to go.”

  “What about your luggage?”

  She shrugged. “Everything got left on the ship. This is it.”

  “Good. My car’s in the parking lot. Let’s go.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Reseda pick up the in-house telephone. As per their arrangement, he was calling Noah in the bar to let him know it was going down.

  Stalling in order to give Noah time to follow them, she said, “You brought your car down here? Your prized Mustang?”

  “Nah. I rented a car.”

  “What kind?”

  He stopped cold and stared at her. “What does it matter? What’s going on, Keely—is this a setup?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Grasping her roughly by the elbow, he hurried her toward the door. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

  Outside, he took a quick look around and hustled her to the parking lot. Stopping at a blue sedan, he opened the door and pushed her into the passenger seat. He rushed around to the driver’s side and slipped behind the wheel. He started the engine, and with an ear-splitting scream of tires spinning on gravel, sped out of the parking lot.

  A moment later they were in heavy traffic heading for the border crossing at San Ysidro.

  While they plodded along the rutted side streets of Tijuana, Keely tried several times to glance in the rearview mirror to see if Lieutenant Reseda and Noah were behind them. With the hundreds of cars clotting the narrow thoroughfares, it was impossible to tell.

  She might very well be on her own with a killer.

  At last they reached the border. She glanced at Dale. Even though it was a mild morning, a bright sheen of perspiration shone on his face and his breathing was hard and jagged. During the ride he’d been almost silent, only speaking occasionally to mutter imprecations to other drivers. He hadn’t uttered a single word to Keely since they’d left Rosarito.

  The strain between them was a throbbing, palpable entity, a third being in the car.

  As the other vehicles in front of them inched toward the Border Patrol officers at the checkpoint, she tried again to peek into the rearview mirror.

  “Who are you looking for—your boyfriend, Bannister?” His voice was as loud and disconcerting as a shotgun blast.

  “I was just looking to see how much traffic is behind us.”

  He grunted noncommittally and inched forward. There was only one car remaining in line ahead of the them. Soon they would be back in the States. Whatever move he had in mind would be coming soon.

  A shiver of apprehension raced down her backbone. She closed her eyes in a silent prayer that the border guards wouldn’t stop Noah and Lieutenant Reseda.

  The car ahead of them pulled out and the guard waved them forward. Dale eased forward a few feet and rolled down his window. “Morning, officer.”

  The Border Patrol agent was a woman, sturdy and competent looking in her olive green uniform. “Hi, folks. What’s your citizenship?”

  “U.S.,” they answered in unison. The guard’s eyes scanned the interior of the car with a practiced motion. “What are you bringing back today? Any alcohol?”

  “Not a thing,” Dale said with an affable smile. “We just went over for a breakfast on the ocean.”

  The guard smiled back and waved them through. Keely had forgotten what a devastating effect he often had on women.

  A moment later they were back in the U.S.

  “CAN’T YOU GO any faster?” Noah demanded as the blue sedan disappeared from sight.

  “Would you like me to go over or through these other cars?” Reseda countered as he calmly maneuvered through the heavy traffic. “We’ll catch them at the border. Everyone’s been alerted.”

  Noah leaned back in the car seat and tried to force himself to relax. But Keely was alone with a murderer and he was stalled in traffic. He’d been a fool to let her talk him into this crazy scheme in the first place. Sure, she was a trained police officer and, under most circumstances, more than able to fend off a physical attack.

  Unfortunately, this time her opponent was also an expert in martial arts. And Noah had no doubt he was armed and extremely dangerous. If Cabot thought he was being double-crossed, Keely’s life wouldn’t be worth a peso on the open market.

  The light changed and Reseda surged ahead of the rumbling truck that had been keeping them back. Turning down a side street, he drove like a demon along the cobbled road, then turned again, and again, until Noah was completely disoriented. “Where are you going?”

  Reseda grinned and winked. “Shortcut.” He angled down an alley that was so narrow that Noah knew a skateboard wouldn’t fit through. Reseda wasn’t daunted by the lack of space. Easing the left tires up onto the sidewalk, he bypassed a car parked in the alley and swerved around a corner.

  When Noah opened his eyes again, they were at the border.

  He leaned his head out the window and stared at the slow, congested lines of traffic waiting their turn to cross. Finally he spotted the blue sedan. “Lane six!” he shouted, and pulled his head back inside just as Reseda cut into the lane beside them.

  There were still at least a half-dozen cars between them and Keely.

  Noah knew that as soon as Cabot crossed through to the other side, he’d have a six-lane freeway at his disposal. He could disappear with Keely and they’d never find him. “Come on, come on,” Noah muttered to the slow-moving traffic.

  Then he saw Cabot’s car pull between the guard’s stanchions. In an instant he was out of sight.

  There was nothing they could do except wait their turn and inch forward, one excruciating car length at a time. Suddenly Reseda shouted, “Hang on, gringo!” and jerked out of line.

  His experienced eye had noted a new lane opening up and he expertly guided his cruiser to the gate. As they pulled up beside the bewildered Border Patrol agent, Noah glimpsed Chief Kapinski standing in the shade a few feet away.

  “Looks like the cavalry has arrived,” Reseda said, nodding toward Kapinski.

  Noah opened the car door and slid out. “Hey, Reseda, I, uh, I really want to thank you for all your help. I don’t know—”

  “Well, what’re you waiting for? Go save that gorgeous woman. And name your first kid after me.”

  “You got it, amigo.” Noah darted toward Chief Kapinski.

  “Sir! This isn’t a pedestrian exit,” the guard protested as he trotted past.

  Kapinski stepped forward and flashed his badge. “Police business, officer. This man’s with me.”

  “If you say so, sir.”

  “I do say so.” Turning to Noah, he flipped the younger man a set of car keys. “You drive and I’ll navigate. They were just spotted driving down Dairy Mart Road. Know where that is?”

  “Sure do. We used to drag race out there when I was in high school.”

  “Now why doesn’t that surprise me?” the chief muttered as Noah slid behind the wheel. Within seconds they pulled into the flow of traffic heading north toward San Diego.
/>   THEY’D ONLY DRIVEN a short distance when Dale took an exit ramp off the freeway. Still playing her part as the distraught daughter, Keely asked, “Where are we going? There’s no hospital out here.”

  In fact, there was nothing out here, if her memory was correct. This area was so deserted it was a prime thruway for the transportation of illegal aliens into the United States. Every night, the “coyotes”—smug glers of human flesh—delivered their hapless victims to this empty stretch of wilderness and left them on their own to make their way north.

  As a police officer, Keely knew that these poor, uneducated farmers from the interior were often robbed and even killed by the same men they’d paid exorbitant sums to help them. Sometimes their bodies lay undiscovered for days, even weeks in these desolate fields.

  Suddenly her apprehension escalated into pure horror. Dale Cabot meant to kill her and dump her body in the brush that grew waist high in these parts.

  The realization was paralyzing. But Keely refused to admit defeat. She wouldn’t make it easy for him. She also knew that Noah, and any help he might bring, might as well be light-years away. If she was going to live long enough to see another sunset, she would have to save herself.

  As if sensing her sudden awareness, Dale pulled the car over to the side of the road and stopped. Drawing his police revolver from beneath his jacket, he said coldly, “Well, looks like the end of the line, Keely. Let’s go for a little walk.”

  Stalling, she shook her head as if she didn’t understand what was happening. “What are you doing, Dale?”

  He laughed mirthlessly. “You know, you’re not a bad actor, Keely. In fact, if you’d chosen the stage instead of police work, you might have had a long, happy little life.”

  She didn’t have to fake the terror that was stalking her heart, turning her insides to quivering jelly. “But why, Dale?”

  “Why? Don’t be such a fool! Now get out of the car.”

  Ignoring his order, she said, “What would make an honest cop turn, Dale? Tell me.”

  “The money, of course. I’ve always needed a lot of money to live the life I wanted. You know that.”

  And so she did. She thought back to all the signs—the expensive clothing, the fancy apartment she knew he could ill afford. Even his treasured Mustang was an expensive collector’s model. Everything about Dale Cabot shrieked of his love of money. Why, oh why, hadn’t she seen it earlier?

  He nudged her with the gun barrel and she opened the car door and slid out. His own door slammed loudly. Then he was walking toward her.

  Behind him, in the distance, she saw a tiny speck on the road, a speck that grew slightly larger as she watched. Could that be a car approaching? Noah? Oh, God, please let it be Noah, she prayed silently.

  She kept her eyes on the dark flash on the horizon. Yes! It was a car, and it was moving fast.

  To distract Dale, and keep herself alive a few moments longer, she waited until he was beside her and said, “At least tell me why. I think you owe me that much.”

  “I don’t owe you a damn thing, but I told you—the money they offered beat the hell out of my salary.”

  “No. I mean why me, why my sister—my father?”

  He laughed again. A callous, ugly chortle that made her flesh creep. “Because you were so easy, Keely. You told me all your family secrets. You were a chicken just waiting to be plucked.”

  “But why involve Rosie?”

  “I needed her. She was so easy to blackmail. I stole one of your deposit slips from your purse, then all I had to do was deposit a little money into your account and show your sister. I told her your reputation and your career as a cop would be ruined if she didn’t go along with me. I even convinced her it was all her fault.” He paused, his expression stormy. “You should have loved me back, Keely. I told you that you’d be sorry.”

  No, for once she was anything but sorry. In her lifetime, Keely had loved and been hurt by those she cared about the most. She’d been wrong, as well. She should have trusted her sister, and the chief. And all those years ago, she should have trusted Noah.

  Her instincts had been right on target when it came to the devastatingly handsome Dale Cabot, however. And if dying was the price she paid for not falling for his practiced line, then so be it. Her only regret was that she might not live long enough to tell Noah how wrong she’d been, and that she still loved him.

  She raised her chin and stared into his cold, spiritless eyes. “You’re a snake, Dale Cabot, and a disgrace to your badge. I couldn’t love you if we were the only survivors of a nuclear holocaust.”

  His face reddened with rage and hate filled his eyes.

  She felt polluted by his venom and allowed her gaze to flicker over his shoulder.

  The blur on the road behind him had taken on a shape now, and she could make out the distinct features of a car. Two shadowy figures were visible behind the windshield. Fearful of attracting Dale’s attention to the speeding auto, she looked away from the mesmerizing image and focused again on her captor. “One thing I don’t understand.”

  “Keep walking.” They crunched along the sandy soil, between patches of chaparral and around spiny cactus. When they’d gone a dozen yards from the road, he said, “There’s lots you don’t understand, babe. What in particular?”

  “Why did you kill Willie Hebert? Wasn’t he working with you?”

  “That fool, Hebert!” Dale spit out the name as if he’d tasted something vile. “He was supposed to stick to you and Bannister until the plates were safely back across the border and in my hands. The idiot lost track of you for a full day. He was, shall we say, eliminated, because he failed in his simple job. These plates are worth millions. My employers don’t tolerate incompetence. Or witnesses.”

  The car was coming up close now. So near she could make out the faint whir of its tires on the pavement.

  “This is far enough, I think.” He turned around to gauge the distance between them and the road and spied the car speeding in their direction. “You bitch! You set me up.”

  He lunged for her but Keely sidestepped and pretended to fall. Scooping up a double handful of the gritty dirt, she leapt up and pitched both handfuls into Cabot’s eyes, momentarily blinding him.

  “I’ll kill you,” he screamed, swiping his hands across his face.

  In the distance, Keely heard the car screech to a halt, but all she could see was the barrel of Dale Cabot’s revolver, aimed directly at her heart.

  NOAH PULLED UP to the curb in a squeal of brakes and threw open the door. Cabot and Keely were out in the brush, facing each other. He didn’t need the eyesight of an eagle to see the gun pointing at her.

  Fueled by fear and adrenaline, Noah bolted across the empty field. His mind screamed with the vision of a thousand horrors, all of them involving losing Keely. God, he had to reach her in time, he just had to.

  As he drew closer, he saw Cabot glance his way. As if in slow motion, Noah saw the ragged fury on the man’s face, saw him swing back around and point the weapon at Keely.

  With the mindless ferocity of a submachine gun, Noah flew across the desert, his feet raising tiny dust devils as he lightly touched ground.

  He could see Cabot’s jaw clench, his knuckles whiten as he lifted his gun higher. He was going to shoot her!

  With a last flying leap, Noah covered the remaining few feet and barreled into him just as the weapon discharged. The roar was deafening, its impact immediate. Like a beautiful doe, brought down by a high-powered rifle, Keely slumped to the ground.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Cabot was writhing on the ground. Consumed by rage, Noah pounced, subduing the man in scant seconds. He wanted to beat Cabot until his fists were raw and bloody, but he couldn’t allow himself the luxury. Keely needed his help.

  Chief Kapinski puffed up and knelt at her side. “She’s still alive,” he shouted, “But I don’t know for how long.”

  Noah rolled the unconscious villain over until he was facedown in the sand. He wa
ited until Kapinski pulled out his handcuffs before he stood up and let the older man subdue their prisoner.

  Quickly closing the gap between them, Noah dropped to his knees beside Keely. Her pretty white blouse was stained a bright crimson. There was so much blood, it didn’t seem possible that she could survive. Ripping off his own shirt, Noah rolled it into a ball and pressed it against her chest to stanch the flow of blood.

  At that moment several police cars, sirens blaring, pulled up.

  As Mike Travers and his retinue of fellow officers raced across the sand, Noah screamed, “Get an ambulance! No, call for a helicopter! Keely’s been shot!”

  Mike Travers’s steps faltered, but he turned to bark an order to a uniformed policeman before he loped toward his daughter.

  He knelt in the sand beside Noah, who was cradling the injured woman in his arms. Damp tracks glimmered down Noah’s face as he whispered, “Hang on, Keely. Don’t leave me now, hang on. I couldn’t stand to lose you again. Please don’t leave me.”

  But she was so pale. So frightfully pale.

  SHE WAS IN SURGERY for nearly four hours. Tense, endless hours in which Noah did nothing but reflect on the emptiness of his life. And pray for Keely.

  What a damned fool he’d been all these years. Blaming her for not taking his side, for not standing up for him. But he’d never taken her into his confidence. Never trusted her enough to tell her what was really going on.

  He’d been too young, too full of the importance of the role that had been thrust upon him. When everything had fallen apart, he’d taken all of his anger, his disappointment, out on Keely.

  Like a callous fool, he’d left town without saying a word.

  She’ll be sorry when I’m gone. He could almost hear the younger Noah’s self-pitying thoughts.

  Now, though, he understood the selfish motivations of his youth. What he’d wanted, of course, was for her to somehow follow him. Maybe she was supposed to have begged his mother or Todd for information. He had expected her to demonstrate her love by finding him.

 

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