by Rebecca York
Grimly she carried his papers and the tan bag out of the cottage and put them in the trunk, along with her own overnight bag and the desserts she’d brought.
When she climbed in, Luke breathed out a small sigh.
“Where are we going exactly?” she asked.
“There’s a motel about twenty miles from here. The Lazy Bayou. It’s not…plush, but I wasn’t thinking I’d be taking anyone with me.”
“Why were you looking for a motel?”
“In case I had to get out of here in a hurry. Come on. You can call your boss when we get there.”
“I’ve put you in danger. Gotten you shot,” she whispered.
“I was having the same thought—about the danger part. When I didn’t know your attacker wasn’t one of the New Jersey mobsters.”
“You don’t think he’s one of them now, right?”
“Do you?”
“No.”
“Let’s get out of here.”
Lips set in a grim line, she started toward the access road that led to the highway when a flash of sunlight made her stop abruptly, pitching Luke forward before he settled back in his seat.
He groaned.
“Sorry.”
“What was that?”
“I spotted a car down on the driveway.”
Luke peered down the access road. “Where?”
“You can’t see it. I wouldn’t have known it was there except that the sun just glared off his windshield. It must be him—waiting for us.”
Chapter Six
Gabriella watched Luke’s expression turn angry. “Tricky bastard! Is there some other way out of here?”
“There’s a back way through the swamp, but it could be under water for all I know.”
“We have to chance it.”
As she backed up, they saw the other car coming toward them. He must have seen her change direction and figured he could cut them off.
“Lucky I’ve got four-wheel drive.”
She headed past the house, watching the rearview mirror as much as the barely visible road in front of her.
Luke twisted around and winced. “I’ll keep track of him.”
“His name is George,” she said.
“What?”
“George.”
“How do you know?”
“I just do. I mean, it leaped into my mind,” she said as she focused on the rutted dirt road that led back into the plantation grounds. Long ago she’d played in what she called “the wilderness,” but she hadn’t been through here in years, and she had no idea if the road was even passable.
Still, she kept going because she had no other choice. The lane wound under the trees, where the thick foliage instantly darkened their surroundings. She wanted to turn on the lights, but the guy would see them in the gloom, so she kept driving until she suddenly had to slam on the brakes.
“What?” Luke asked.
“A tree across the road.”
“Can you go around?”
“I don’t know.”
“Try!” She heard Luke’s frustration. Probably he wished he were driving, but that was out of the question.
As soon as she turned off the road into a flat area, she could feel mud sucking at the tires but she kept moving, bouncing over ruts and splashing through puddles and avoiding other fallen logs that partially blocked the way. As two deer sprinted in front of them, she braked hard, making the car rock.
When she tried to start up again, the wheels spun, and panic made her grip the wheel.
Luke turned toward her. “Don’t tense up.”
“I’m trying not to.”
“Back up and ease forward.”
When she tried to follow his suggestion, nothing happened. A panicked glance in the rearview mirror told her that the other car was weaving through the trees, coming at them.
“He’s going to get us,” she gasped.
“No. I’m going to push.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “You can’t.”
“The hell I can’t.”
Luke clambered out and got in back of the car. “When I call ‘now,’ press on the accelerator.”
She wanted to scream at him that he was crazy, but she knew they had to escape. Looking out the side mirror, she saw Luke had turned sideways, positioning his good shoulder against the back of the car.
When he shouted, she gunned the engine. At first she was sure they were stuck for all eternity. Gritting her teeth, she gave the car gas slowly, forcing herself not to stab down on the accelerator. Finally, after centuries, the car lurched forward, and Luke ran around to the passenger side, jumping in and slamming the door behind him.
George, if that was his real name, was almost on them. As she tried to put distance between the two cars, Luke leaned out the door, the gun in his hand.
He fired behind them, and the other vehicle stopped abruptly.
“Did you hit him?” she panted as she wove her way back onto the road.
“I wasn’t trying to hit him. I was just trying to make him think it was a bad idea to follow us.” He cursed.
“What?”
“I forgot the damn gun I keep in the nightstand.”
“Don’t worry about it now.”
“Stupid!”
“You were thinking of other stuff.”
She could hear the engine of the other car roaring as the guy behind them tried to get out of the same mud where she’d been mired.
For the moment, he was stuck. But they still weren’t out of the woods. The narrow track was now slick with scummy water, but at least there was some gravel helping to make the surface less slippery.
Praying that they didn’t wind up in a lake, she kept going, stopping once and backing up so she could go down the side of the road where the water didn’t look too deep.
Beside her Luke was breathing hard. And when she glanced at him, his face was pale as death.
“Luke?”
He gritted his teeth, and she couldn’t stop herself from covering his hand with hers. Instantly, pain leaped through her, pain so bad that she almost lost control of the vehicle and crashed into a tree.
Somehow she managed to stay on the road because that was her job.
“Oh, my,” she whispered.
“I’ll be okay.”
“You…”
“Wrenched my arm. I’ll be okay.”
When she heard the pain in his voice and felt it echoing through her, she ached to stop and take him in her arms. Or tear off his jacket and shirt and have a look at the wound.
“It won’t do you much good out here,” he said, apparently picking up on her thoughts.
“I threw a first-aid kit into the car.”
“Later. Keep going,” he ordered. “We don’t know when he’ll get free.”
She clamped her hands on the wheel, forcing her attention back to the driving, praying that they would get to the motel soon.
He glanced behind him.
“Can you see him?”
“He’s still stuck. Just keep going. Not too fast.”
She agreed, but it was difficult to keep from pressing down heavily on the gas pedal.
The track was barely passable, and it got worse the farther they drove. She was thinking that they were going to bog down again when she saw the blessed blacktop of the highway ahead. No stretch of road had ever looked more welcome.
Just before pulling onto the highway, she opened the door and inspected the side of the vehicle. It looked like an elephant after a mud bath.
“Which way?” she asked Luke, who was leaning heavily against the headrest.
His eyes blinked open.
“Where are we in relationship to the plantation’s main entrance?”
“About a mile east.”
“Turn left. Keep going until you see a commercial area.”
After giving her directions to the Lazy Bayou, he leaned back and closed his eyes again, and she thought he was probably at the end of his resources. His skin was wh
ite, and sweat wet his brow. She wanted to reach out and cup his forehead to find out if he had a fever. But touching him was a bad idea.
Yeah.
The agreement echoed in her mind.
“You were thinking that, too?”
“Uh-huh.”
His voice sounded thin. He didn’t speak again, and when she glanced at him, she knew that he had drifted off to sleep.
While she headed for the motel he’d mentioned, she reached for her cell phone. As she had the day before, she took a chance on talking while driving.
Tommy, one of the assistant chefs, picked up on the second ring.
“Chez Emile’s.”
“It’s Gabriella.”
“Gabriella, where are you?”
“Long story. Is Emile there?”
“Yeah. And he’s annoyed with you. He was expecting you back this morning. There’s a big list of desserts you’re supposed to do.”
“I assume other people are filling in for me.”
“Yeah.”
“Let me talk to him,” she said, wondering exactly what she was going to say.
As soon as Emile picked up the phone, he took control of the conversation.
“Gabriella, where the hell are you?”
“Emile, my mother died. There are some things I need to take care of down here,” she answered, pretending that was the reason for her absence.
“I’m sorry about your mother,” he said in a grudging voice. “But you should have called last night.”
“I was caught up in…the arrangement,” she answered. It wasn’t exactly a lie, depending on your definition. “It will be a few days before I can get back to town,” she added.
“We have a lot to do here. Remember, that congressional delegation is coming for dinner.”
“Oh, right. Sorry.”
The dinner was a big deal for Emile, but she’d forgotten all about it.
“I have Janie covering for you. And I took on a new guy to fill in. He’s a graduate of L’Academie de Cuisine in D.C.”
“That’s good,” she answered, wondering if it was—from her point of view.
“Janie is doing a wonderful job. We may not need you.”
“I…”
“I’m sorry, I have to keep up the restaurant’s standards.”
She couldn’t stop herself from challenging him. “What if I were sick? Would you just let me go?”
“I’m sorry, Gabriella. We can talk when you’re back in town and feeling more yourself,” he said before clicking off, leaving her listening to dead air.
Numbly, she put away the phone. She’d expected Emile to be angry that she wasn’t giving him top priority, but not to, in effect, fire her. What a self-centered jerk. He owed her back pay, which she was damn well going to collect when she got the chance.
Which was when, exactly? Certainly not until they’d dealt with the man chasing her.
When she slowed at the entrance to the Lazy Bayou Motel, Luke jerked awake, looking wildly around.
“What?”
“The motel.”
“Don’t stop yet.”
“Why not?”
“Because we’re hiding out, and I don’t want the clerk to see a woman in the car. George, if that’s his name, is looking for you. I want you to lie down in the back. I’ll drive in and get the room.”
“You can’t drive in your condition.”
“We’re not going far.”
She gave him a critical inspection. He still looked like hell. But she understood the wisdom of his plan. After continuing past the motel, she pulled into the parking lot of a fast food restaurant, where she got into the backseat while Luke eased behind the wheel. She wanted to ask if he was going to pass out, but she kept her mouth shut as she scrunched down and tried to get comfortable on the floor mat.
She heard Luke cursing under his breath as he turned the car around. His driving was jerky, and she prayed that he could make it as far as the motel. The car turned in and lurched to a stop, a few feet from the front wall of the office, but she didn’t comment.
“Stay here,” he ordered, then got out and walked toward the building. “And stay down.”
She did as he asked, hoping he didn’t pass out before getting them a room.
One room, of course. Which would mean there was no way to avoid touching him. She thought of the implications and shivered with a mixture of anticipation and dread.
LUKE STEADIED HIMSELF against the car door as he looked around. They were in a rural location, backing up to a wooded area and probably a bayou.
He dragged in several breaths and let them out, trying to compose himself as much as possible.
The bullet had knocked the stuffing out of him, but he had to think it wasn’t actually life threatening, or he’d already be out cold.
He glanced into the car and saw that Gabriella had followed directions. She was one hell of a woman. Too bad he hadn’t met her under calmer circumstances. There was something between them that the two of them had to explore, but it would have to wait.
Simply walking across the gravel parking lot to the office door used up most of his energy. If he were honest, he would admit that he was in no shape to be on his feet.
He gritted his teeth. He wasn’t going to admit to Gabriella that it hurt like hell. But he didn’t have to. She’d picked it up from his mind.
He paused to adjust his baseball cap so that it partially covered his features, then took a breath and opened the door.
A bell rang, but nobody was in the office.
Damn. Just what he needed. A delay.
“Anybody home?” he called out as he leaned against the counter to stay upright.
A young man with short blond hair and a long face came running from a room in back of the counter. Not the same guy Luke had talked to before, which was probably a good thing. One meeting would make him less memorable.
“Sorry about that,” the clerk said. “I was in the can.”
“No problem,” Luke answered in a mild tone when he wanted to snap at the guy. Which was a good indication that he was in bad shape because he didn’t lose his cool easily.
“What can I do for you?”
Luke was tempted to answer sarcastically that he wanted to order an alligator dinner. Instead, he said, “I’m doing some wildlife photography in the area, and I need a room for a couple of nights.”
The clerk peered at him, and he resisted the impulse to pull the cap farther down over his face. “You okay, buddy?”
He forced a laugh, wishing he’d thought about his story before he’d opened his mouth. “Well, that’s not the only reason I’m in town. My friend’s getting married. We’ve been doin’ a little celebrating.”
The clerk made a disparaging sound. “Hope he’s still celebrating this time next year.”
“You and me both. That woman has him running in circles already.”
Luke filled out the registration form, giving a fake license plate number.
“You got a quiet room around the back where I can sleep off this hangover?” he asked.
“Number fifteen.”
“Thanks.”
He thought about the guy looking for them. Would he check at every motel in a fifty-mile radius? Farther? Would he think they’d tried to get as far away as possible before stopping? Luke cast around for some way he could ensure that the clerk wouldn’t talk about him if asked.
When he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, the man behind the counter gave him an inquiring look.
He cleared his throat, deciding he might as well spin another story. “My buddy and I got into some trouble last night. Some guys might come looking for me.” He pulled out his wallet and extracted fifty dollars. “If someone comes asking questions, I’d appreciate a call in my room.”
The clerk accepted the money. “Sure.”
Would he do it? Would he even be here if the man looking for them showed up?
He had no way of answering the questions and n
o energy to reinforce the request. He’d done all he could—short of putting a hundred miles between them and the guy Gabriella called George. And that wasn’t going to happen.
He made it out of the office, sweating heavily as he wove his way back to the car.
From the floor of the backseat, Gabriella gave him a long look as he climbed back behind the wheel. “Did he ask you if you wanted a hospital bed?”
Luke glanced back at the office window. “He thinks I’ve got a hangover from a hard night of partying.”
“I guess that’s as good an excuse as any for looking like hell.”
“The room’s in back where nobody could see the car from the road. Number fifteen.”
He drove around the end of the building, where there was another row of rooms similar to the ones in front.
The parking lot bordered on the wooded area they’d seen from the road.
His energy level falling rapidly, Luke climbed out and headed for the motel room door. But when he got there, he wasn’t quite able to insert the key in the lock.
“Let me,” Gabriella said gently.
He held out the thick plastic disk with a fifteen printed on it. She took it without allowing their fingers to touch and opened the door, stepping aside so he could enter.
The room was shabby but clean, with a queen-size bed, dresser, older model TV, and table and chairs by the window. He wanted to flop right onto the bed; instead, he stood swaying in the center of the worn carpet.
“Maybe it’s better not to get blood on the spread.”
She made an anxious sound as she rushed over and pulled down the covers. He kicked off his shoes, collapsed gratefully onto the bed and lay with his eyes closed. The damn arm was throbbing like crazy, probably because he should have gotten horizontal hours ago. But when could he have done it?
“I need to look at your wound,” she said.
“Need to sleep,” he said, hearing his own slurred speech.
“After I look at the arm,” she said, her voice making it clear that she wasn’t going to leave him alone until he complied. And she was probably right. Maybe he should delegate the thinking to her for the time being.
He sat up. Teeth gritted, he tried to pull off his jacket. Gabriella helped him, keeping her hands on the sleeves.