Moving Target

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by Desiree Holt


  She could have passed for me a month ago.

  Not now, of course. One layer at a time Kate had buried Kathryn Burke. Jeans and a T-shirt replaced the pants suit. A shaggy, self-styled cut now tucked up into a gimme cap took the place of the long hair that had been her trademark. Dirty tennis shoes and an ugly nylon jacket with coffee stains completed the outfit. Whenever she looked in a mirror, she realized the metamorphosis from Kathryn to Kate was complete.

  She hoped—prayed—that Peter would think she didn’t have sense enough to change her appearance. Her name. Anything.

  Looking at the clock once more, she thought it impossible that only two minutes had passed since the last time she checked. Her stomach was doing funny thing, which she hoped was due to the rotten coffee and not her newly-developed early warning system.

  And then she saw them entering the terminal, two men who could have been clones of the ones in Charlotte. The same deadly air, the same carefully blank faces, the same hunter’s gleam in their eyes as they surveyed the waiting area. The image of the grubby thug making a furtive call on his cell phone popped into her brain. Every one of her senses told her she was their quarry. Bile rose in the back of her throat as nausea swept over her, and she swallowed hard against it.

  She watched them as they moved through the terminal. They spoke in quiet tones into the cell phones they carried, every few seconds checking the screens.

  “See that,” the old lady squeaked to the man next to her. “I’ll bet they’re police, after some criminal.”

  When the man ignored her, she turned back to Kate again. “Who do you suppose they’re after?”

  Me. They’ve got a picture on their cell phone screen and they’re looking for me. Adrenaline pumped through her veins, accelerating her heartbeat. Her pulse was beating a fierce tattoo, and a thin trickle of sweat ran down her spine.

  Thankfully the picture they had couldn’t bear much resemblance to her now. In Peter’s arrogance, he would never consider she’d have sense enough to change her appearance. Still, who knew what could give her away? She had to get out of here.

  Choking back the scream blossoming in her throat, she forced herself to move, rising as casually as possible from the bench. More than anything she wanted to run, but she made herself move slowly, one step at a time.

  Miss Pants Suit rose and started toward the rest rooms. Kate saw the men spot her and, keeping their cell phones open, move in her direction.

  They think she’s me. God, that poor woman.

  As Kate moved away from the bench, the men came abreast of the unlucky Miss Pants Suit, boxing her in between them. Each of them took one of her elbows and the one on the left leaned over and said something in her ear. Kate saw the woman try to jerk her arm away and open her mouth to scream.

  “My wife,” the man said apologetically to the curious crowd. “Given to unpredictable mood swings. Come, sweetheart, you need your medication.”

  Kate saw the desperate movements as the woman struggled to free herself. Her head whipping back and forth, she was yelling “Help me” to the people around her. Instead, they uncomfortably averted their eyes.

  Watching as she slithered toward the exit, Kate saw one man put his mouth to the woman’s ear and say something. The one word she caught chilled her. Kathryn. Then his hand moved, and in seconds Miss Pants Suit was limp in their arms. They moved away with her, the man who’d pretended to be her husband arranging his face in a sad expression.

  Kate nearly passed out. For a moment, she almost screamed out, “Leave her alone.” She was sick at the thought of what would happen to this woman whose only crime was to look like Kathryn Burke. It wouldn’t take long for them to figure out they’d made a mistake. Maybe once they figured out she was the wrong woman, they’d let her go. She prayed that’s what would happen.

  But she had to get out of here, and she couldn’t wait any longer for the Albuquerque bus. She needed to get away now.

  Anywhere. I don’t care. Just as long as it gets me away from here.

  A city bus was idling at the curb, riders jostling each other in their haste to board. Kate pushed her way in front of everyone, fear making her aggressive. Any second she expected to feel a heavy hand on her shoulder, yanking her back onto the sidewalk.

  “Do you mind?” a girl in Goth makeup and spandex spat as Kate shoved her way onto the vehicle.

  “Sorry,” she mumbled.

  She dropped coins into the receptacle and made her way to the far corner of the bus, slumping into a seat as her rubbery legs gave out. Peering out from under the gimme cap, she watched to see if the men had realized their mistake yet and come looking for her. She held her breath, waiting for them to rush out to the sidewalk. When no one appeared, she released the pent-up breath with a whoosh. Good. Still occupied with Miss Pants Suit. She was safe for the moment.

  Her heart still thundered like a jet, and she gripped her duffel hard to control the shaking in her hands. They didn’t just want to kill her. That would come later. They were after the drive. The damned flash drive. If they got their hands on it she was history.

  The bus rumbled along, pulling up at a stop to let passengers off. Through the window Kate’s eye caught the sign for Highway Harry’s Used Car Lot—Try ‘Em and Buy ‘Em. Okay. Time to change transportation again. She hopped off the bus before the doors closed, shifted her duffel to a more comfortable position, and strode into Highway Harry’s.

  “She don’t look like much,” the oily salesman told her, patting the hood of an aging sedan, “but she’ll get you where you want to go.”

  Yeah, right. As long as I don’t want to go too far. “If you say so.”

  At least at Harry’s, they didn’t ask for any identification, and Harry was eager enough to take her cash.

  “You might want to check the oil after a little while,” he said, handing over the pink slip and the keys. “We gave her a good tune-up, but you know how these old babies are.”

  I’ll just drive it until it falls apart and find something else. Just let it get me out of here.

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” Did he even notice the sarcasm in her voice? “I probably won’t keep it that long, anyway.”

  “Well. She’s all yours now.”

  In thirty minutes, she was on IH 10 heading west out of L.A. But to where?

  Chapter Three

  Texas, the Hill Country

  “Damn!” Kate slammed the hood of her car shut and pounded it in frustration. Well, she’d told the disgusting salesman at Highway Harry’s she’d drive the car until it dropped. She just hadn’t expected it to happen at night in Texas in the middle of nowhere.

  Driving steadily since leaving L.A., fueled by gallons of coffee, she’d allowed herself only a few hours rest at a cheap motel. Her nerves were raw, she was riding a caffeine high, and now here she was, stranded and exposed on a highway somewhere in the middle of Texas.

  Her head throbbed, every bone and muscle in her body screamed for relief, and the hamburger from the drive-through hours ago still sat like lead in her stomach. More than anything she wanted to curl up in a corner somewhere and hide from everything.

  All her life she’d allowed herself to follow what other people had decided for her and look where it had gotten her. She’d mistaken her father’s obsessive attitude for one of protection and Peter’s attentions for affection and safety. Look where that had gotten her.

  She stared at the car.

  God, could things possibly get any worse?

  She’d kept it together day after day, even during those narrow escapes. She couldn’t believe the ease with which she’d created her new identity. All it took was watching enough television and having a little ingenuity. Was it all going to fall apart now because of this stupid car? She’d hoped to get as far as Houston or Dallas. What a pipe dream that was. The last sign on the highway said San Antonio was forty miles away, but it might as well be a thousand.

  On top of it all, her body was coming down from the adren
aline high that had kept her going after L.A. and fatigue was weaving its way through her system. She was hanging on by a thread, and this latest disaster was threatening to snap it. She bit her lip so hard she wondered why she didn’t draw blood.

  Reaching into her car, she pulled out her throwaway cell phone but stopped before she could punch in any numbers. Who did she think she was going to call, anyway? It wasn’t as if she had road service, for crying out loud. She didn’t even have a clue where the closest town was between here and San Antonio.

  Cars whizzed by her on the highway in both directions. Kate didn’t know whether to be glad or mad no one stopped. She didn’t think she’d left any leads for Peter to pick up, but after Los Angeles she wasn’t counting on anything. She swallowed the panic that kept clogging her throat. Here she was, out here in the open, vulnerable to anyone—

  A blinding flash of headlights and the crunching of tires on gravel startled her, freezing her in place. Her stomach clenched, and the familiar taste of fear crawled up her throat as a door slammed and a tall figure outlined in the lights moved toward her. God, could they have found her this easily? No, stop and take a breath, dummy. They’ve had all the miles since L.A. to catch her. Why wait for now?

  Then who had stopped? Someone just as bad?

  Kate looked frantically around her for a place to hide.

  Too late. Here he came, whoever he was, a dark shadow moving toward her with panther-like grace.

  “You look as if you could use some help.” The disembodied voice was deep, rusty, as if it wasn’t used much, and she detected a hint of a drawl.

  Then he was in front of her, materializing like smoke out of the blackness of the night. Kate took a deep breath. Her heart was banging against her ribs like a jackhammer and not just from fear. The unexpected visceral punch of his powerful male presence caught her totally off guard.

  It was the fatigue. It had to be. She hadn’t felt sexual awareness in more months than she could count, but now? Now, when she was in the worst jam of her life, her body stood up and shouted hurrah for a stranger? She actually had to squeeze her thighs together to still the tingling in her belly, even as she wondered if this man meant her any harm.

  I have truly lost my mind.

  “Sorry I scared you.” His voice was deep and gravelly, the sound resonating through her. “I spotted you over here on the side of the highway and figured you had car trouble.”

  “Y-Yes.” She cleared her throat. “Yes, I do.” As he came closer and the truck’s headlights shown on him, she got a better look.

  Holy Mother!

  When was the last time in the mess her life had become that a man had affected her this way? He was tall and lean, a black T-shirt and worn black jeans molding his body, outlining every muscle. The jeans brushed the tops of scuffed western boots. Thick dark hair, just a little bit long and so inky it barely reflected the headlights, accentuated a lean face full of sharp planes and angles. She had an almost uncontrollable need to reach up and run her fingers through it.

  Dark stubble shadowed his jaw, and deep lines bracketed his mouth and the corners of his eyes. Not the face of someone who smiled often. His black eyes, looking out from beneath thick, dark lashes, were like coal that had been chipped from the earth.

  Why wasn’t she running from him, scared to death? Why was she trying to imagine what he looked like without those clothes? She had truly lost her mind. What was wrong with her hormones, anyway?

  “Let’s see what kind of problem we’ve got here.” He looked her over from head to toe with a critical eye, then started toward her car. Two steps, and he was right next to her, all that masculinity overpowering her and crowding her space. The faint scent of sandalwood and man tantalized her nostrils.

  “I’m fine,” she said, backing up to the side of her car, desperately needing to put space between them. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

  Right. Who am I kidding here?

  “I’m pretty good with engines,” he said, as if she hadn’t even spoken. “Move over and I’ll take a look.”

  When he put his hands on her arms to shift her out of the way she jerked as if he’d touched her with a match. Heat traveled through her, liquefying her muscles.

  “I’m sorry.” He studied her face, frowning. “I just want to pop the hood of your car, and you’re standing in the way.”

  She rubbed her arms nervously. This man was all rough edges. Take it or leave it, his attitude said. She didn’t want to take it, and she was afraid she couldn’t leave it. She had managed to get herself in a stupid predicament, leaving herself exposed not just to Peter and his hunters but to any predatory male who came along. Was that what this man was? A hunter?

  She sucked in a huge breath and somehow pulled herself together. “Oh. Okay.”

  He took a cautious step forward again. “I’ll see if I can find out what’s wrong here.”

  “I-I hate to bother you,” she stammered.

  What if her car really wasn’t broken and he did something to it? What if somehow he was…no! She had to wipe those crazy ideas from her mind. She was seeing demons where there weren’t any. Except that was how she’d been staying alive, watching every corner for shadows.

  “It’s no trouble.” His voice was flat, neither friendly nor unfriendly. She could have been a telephone pole he was talking to. “Anyway, I’m already here, so let me eyeball this. Maybe I can spot something and fix it easily.”

  “All right.” She backed up, needing to put space between them. Her skin still sizzled where he’d touched her, and her pulse was still thumping erratically. “Thank you.”

  His gaze raked over her face, something indefinable flashing briefly in his eyes. Then he blinked, and it was gone. Whatever it was, she was sure she’d imagined it.

  He turned back to the car, popped the hood, and looked inside. In just a few minutes, he closed it again, shaking his head. “I don’t know where you got this piece of junk, but I hope you didn’t pay too much. You can’t drive this anywhere tonight.”

  All her carefully constructed defenses were beginning to fall apart, and the effect of this man on her senses wasn’t helping. She tightened her hands into fists, desperate for some shred of control. Now was not the time to lose it. She’d known the car would die sooner or later. She’d just hoped it would be later, and not in the middle of no place without any other options.

  “Are you positive it won’t move?” She shoved her hands into her pockets, knowing how stupid the question sounded. “Maybe you missed something?”

  He looked at her, his eyes now like black ice, so intense she shivered slightly.

  “Believe me,” he insisted, “I’m sure. I know cars. The carburetor is a mess, and I think the engine block’s cracked. Neither of those are good.”

  “You’re kidding.” Crap.

  “Unfortunately, I’m not. Do you by some chance have anyone you can call?” He looked at his watch. “Because at this hour every garage close enough is closed. You’re at least an hour from San Antonio, and unless you’ve got some kind of road service you’d have a hard time getting anyone out here this time of night.”

  “N-No road service,” she told him, feeling more and more like an idiot. But running for your life didn’t allow for amenities or anything that would leave tracks for people to follow.

  He studied the car. “Those plates are from California. Did you drive from there in this piece of junk?”

  “It’s…just temporary. I’m traveling.” He had to know she was lying. God, maybe she’d be better if he just went off and left her.

  No! That would leave you with no options at all.

  The look he gave her seemed to see right into her. “Not in this car you’re not.” He kicked at a front tire. “I’m surprised you made it this far.”

  “It’s what I have,” she said with what little bit of defiance she could muster. “I just need to figure out how to fix it.”

  Again he stared at her with that penetrating look. “I don’t
suppose this happens to be the area where you were heading, is it? Maybe you have some friends around here you can call?”

  The only ‘friends’ I have right now are busy trying to kill me. I don’t think I’ll be calling them.

  She wet her suddenly dry lips with the tip of her tongue. “No. There’s no one.”

  He slammed the hood shut. “Whoever you are, this vehicle isn’t going to move and you sure as hell can’t sit here on the side of the road. Too many predators out there. Come on.” He touched her arm, lightly, as if expecting her to jump away. “I’ll take you somewhere safe.”

  “Take me somewhere? Why would I just go off with you?” She yanked her hands from her pockets and wrapped her arms around herself, her body quaking as the full impact of her situation hit her.

  “You’re trembling.” There was a faint note of surprise in his voice. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you, but this is a ridiculous situation. You can’t stay out here, and I can’t go off and leave you like this. The next person who comes along here might not be as harmless as me.”

  Harmless. Right. Wrapped in a blanket of pure sexual masculinity.

  When she still didn’t move, he drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Look. I’m just worried about you, okay?”

  “Why? I’m no one to you. Besides, where would you take me?” More crap. Just what she didn’t need. “I mean, I don’t know you. Why should I trust you? And what am I supposed to do with the car?”

  “You can’t drive this thing so you’ll need to get it towed and—”

  “Towed?” The word stuck in her throat. “Who would I call to tow it? You said yourself everyone’s closed around here.”

  A muscle jumped in his cheek. “I can help you with that if you’ll let me finish here.”

  “Okay. I’m sorry.” Did her voice sound as shaky to him as it did to her?

  “I have a friend who’ll do me a favor on the tow, and there’s a place you can stay for the night. Like a motel,” he explained with exaggerated patience. “Lucky for you there’s one just a few minutes away. I’ll drive you there. Okay?”

 

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