Moving Target

by Desiree Holt

  “A motel?” God, I sound like a moron.

  “Jesus. Yes. A motel. You know. Where people rent rooms and go to sleep? Which, by the way, is something you look like you haven’t done for a long time.” His eyes scanned her from head to toe. “Can you even afford a room? Maybe we should think of something else.”

  “I can handle it. No problem. I have money.”

  She forced herself not to touch the fanny pack where she’d stashed all her cash rolled up in tight bundles, along with the all-important flash drive. Hidden beneath her shirt, the pack burned against her skin like live coals.

  He waited the space of one heartbeat. Two. “That answer all your questions? Can we go now?”

  The calm, reasonable tone in his voice washed over her, taking the edge off her anxiety. She had to trust someone. She couldn’t keep running aimlessly around the country with death breathing down her neck. Minutes ago, she’d prayed for someone to help her. Here he was, and in a minute, he’d decide she was too much of a pain in the ass and leave her stranded. It would serve her right.

  “This isn’t an open-ended offer.” Irritation was obviously getting the best of him. “If you want to just hang out here on the highway, be my guest. But it’s late and I’m tired, so what are we doing here? You staying or coming with me?”

  For the first time, she noticed the fatigue shadowing his eyes and deepening the grooves in his face. He’d stopped at this late hour to see if she, a total stranger, needed help, yet here she was, giving him nothing but grief. He had no way of knowing why she was so terrified and that trusting him would be a real leap of faith for her.

  But it wasn’t so much whether she could trust him, as whether she could trust herself with him.

  At that moment, as if to underscore the tenuousness of her situation, fat raindrops began to splatter everywhere—the shoulder of the road, the highway, her rattletrap car, and most of all, the two of them.

  “Oh, great,” she muttered, shivering as the density of the rain increased. In a moment, she was soaked, rubbing her arms to chase away the chill.

  “Okay. If you want to stay out here in the rain, fine by me, but I’ve got better sense than that.” He started to turn away.

  No. Don’t go.

  She almost shouted the words. She sure didn’t have a lot of choices. It was either stay here like a stupid fool catching pneumonia in wet clothes or take a chance with a complete stranger. A complete sexy stranger.

  “O-Okay.” The rain was coming down more heavily, and her clothes were plastered to her. “Th-Thank you.”

  “The first thing to do is get you out of this rain and dried off. Come on.” He held out his hand and reluctantly, she took it. They jogged to his truck, a black leviathan as dark and dangerous-looking as he was. He opened the passenger door and practically threw her inside.

  Guiltily she realized he was as drenched as she was.

  He opened the back door of the dual cab and pulled out a torn towel and an old blanket.

  “I always carry odds and ends,” he told her. “Dry yourself as much as you can with the towel and wrap the blanket around yourself. Do you have anything you need in your car?”

  “A duffel. A tote bag. Oh, and my cell phone.”

  “A cell phone.” He grunted. “At least you have one necessity. I’ll get them and be right back.”

  Kate didn’t argue with him. She had no desire to get out in the rain again, and there was nothing in the car that could give away her real identity or she’d never have let him near it. She was scrupulous about not leaving anything lying around that could identify her or scratch at someone’s curiosity.

  She blotted the rain on her clothes and hair, then wrapped the ragged blanket around her shuddering body. She was huddling into it when the door on the driver’s side opened, the man climbed in and tossed her tote and duffel in the back seat. Digging around, he pulled up another towel that he used to wipe himself off as best he could.

  “I’ll turn on the heat in a minute,” he told her, “and see if we can ward off pneumonia.”

  Suddenly, she was so tired she could hardly keep her eyes open. “Where did you say this motel is you’re taking me to?”

  “There’s a little town where I live just off the next exit. The motel’s on the main street. You’ll be safe there.”

  No place is safe for me. But maybe…

  Okay, here goes nothing.

  Silently praying she’d made the right decision, she wrapped the blanket more tightly around herself…and was immediately hit with another problem. He must have slept on this at some time or wrapped himself in it, because a distinctive, tantalizing male scent clung to it. And in the unexpected intimacy of the cab, this dark and mysterious man was having a sudden effect on her. There was an air of raw sex about him that stole her breath.

  Great. She was exhausted, terrified, soaking wet, and hanging onto the end of a frayed rope, and now her hormones decided to wake up. She inched as close to the door as her seat belt would allow.

  When he started the engine and pulled out onto the highway, she cleared her throat. “Excuse me, but I don’t even know your name.”

  He glanced sideways at her but said nothing.

  “This isn’t a trick question,” she pushed. “You do have a name, don’t you?”

  After another long silence, he spoke. “Quinn. My name is Quinn.”

  Chapter Four

  Tampa

  Peter was in a rage. Too many days had ticked away since the night Kathryn made her unexpected appearance at the office and disappeared with the key to his life. Two very long weeks, and they were no closer to finding her and the tiny memory stick.

  He looked up at Miguel Osuna, the ever-present reminder of his situation, and slammed his hand on his desk. “God damn it, I don’t know what she was doing here that night. I’ve told you that again and again. She was supposed to be at home.”

  That was the unanswered question. Why had Kathryn decided to show up with no warning? Whatever the reason, she’d run smack into a conversation not meant for her ears. Because of that a copy of the entire operation was now missing.

  Every day Miguel materialized at his office to ride his ass about Kathryn’ disappearance and the loss of the flash drive. The daily process never varied. The questions. The accusations. The threats.

  Peter ground his teeth in frustration. Frantic was not a usual part of his personality, but right now he was as close to it as he could get. Running the business operation for the powerful Osuna cartel had its benefits but also put him in a vulnerable position.

  “Most unfortunate that she heard us discussing her future,” Miguel pointed out yet again.

  “Or lack of it,” Peter said, tossing a pencil he’d been fiddling with onto his desk.

  Miguel raised an eyebrow. “The fact she also heard us mention the flash drive and made off with it is what makes this whole situation so volatile. A woman whose life is in jeopardy will use any advantage that comes to her. And unfortunately for you, we gave her one as a gift.”

  “I shouldn’t have waited to get rid of her.” A muscle jumped in his jaw. “You were right about that.”

  Miguel’s face was like stone. “That’s correct. I urged you to get it done and over with.”

  “You know the reasons for it, though,” Peter reminded him. “So many deaths, coming one right after the other…”

  “Nevertheless, you have made an unforgivable error, Pedro. And because of that Kathryn Burke has disappeared with something that could destroy us all. If we hadn’t heard her and chased her to the garage, we might never known she has it. You’d find it gone, and we’d all be screwed. Unfortunately, she was too quick for us and now she’s gone.”

  “We’ll find her.”

  “You’d better be right about that. You know what’s on the line.”

  Peter dropped into his chair and raked his fingers through his hair. Rage at the situation Kathryn had put him in surged through his system. “I’ll kill that fucking
bitch when I get my hands on her.”

  “If is the operative word,” Miguel snapped. “Not when. I wouldn’t count on anything at this point. It seems Miss Burke isn’t quite as manageable as you thought. And how did you not know she still had a set of her father’s keys?”

  “It never came up. I thought the set I took from her was the only one.” Peter grimaced as he forced out the words. He hated admitting failure of any kind.

  “Your lapses in judgment will cost us dearly. You have much to answer for.” Miguel’s voice had the sharp sound of the executioner’s axe. “You’ve put us all at risk. Our entire operation. This is the result of stupid carelessness.”

  The air in the office was thick with tension. For the first time in his adult life, Peter Fleming knew what fear was.

  He scrubbed his hands across his face. “At least the files on the flash drive are encrypted.”

  “And a damn good thing. Consider yourself lucky that she didn’t take any of the hard copy files with her, which aren’t so protected,” Miguel pointed out.

  “I’ll find her. Count on it.”

  “We’ll find her.” Miguel pulled a cell phone from his pocket.

  Peter stuck his jaw out belligerently. “What does that mean? Your men missed her twice already. What more do you think you can do that I can’t?”

  “I’m calling in my contacts everywhere. Everyone who owes me a favor. It’s time to pay up. I want every corner of this country searched.” He punched in a number, and in a moment began speaking in rapid Spanish.

  “She can’t have gone far,” Peter told him when he hung up. “She hasn’t the experience or the guts to figure out how to hide herself away. Luck. That’s what she’s had. She’ll run out of it sooner or later.” He tried furiously to think of what to do next.

  Miguel stabbed a finger at him. “I hold you completely responsible for this. There will be consequences, once I report everything.”

  Then, thankfully, before Peter could frame a reply, he was gone with his bodyguards closing ranks behind him. Peter slumped back in his chair, rubbing his temples. Hell and damnation. He’d planned so carefully for everything. How had it fallen apart like this?

  ****

  Somewhere in Texas

  “Quinn what? Is that a first name or last?” Kate tried to keep her gaze away from his thighs and the muscles flexing under the soft denim.

  “Just…Quinn. That’s good enough.” When she didn’t comment, he said, “Well?”

  “Well, what?”

  “When someone tells you their name, it’s customary to give them yours.” A tiny rough edge of humor colored his words.

  “Oh.” She twisted her fingers together. “I’m Kate. Kate Griffin.”

  “Well, Kate Griffin, you’ll be a lot better off at this motel than out on the highway. As soon as you get inside take a long hot, shower. Do you have anything warm to wrap up in?”

  “Um, I think so.” Actually, she was shivering so badly she could hardly think at all.

  “You have to get warm, or you’ll get sick. While you register, I’ll call my friend Mike to tow your car to his garage. Tomorrow, we’ll see what needs to be done.”

  “Exactly where am I, anyway?” she asked. They’d exited the highway and were driving into a small town.

  “Welcome to Windswept,” Quinn said, sardonic humor edging his words. “People say one day the wind swept through and when it left, there was the town.”

  Kate stared out the window, but it was dark and she was too fatigued, waterlogged, and cold to make much sense of anything. In a few minutes, Quinn wheeled the truck up under the archway of a two-story limestone building. A sign hanging from it had the legend “Windswept Inn” sandblasted into it.

  “Must be a busy place,” she commented. The parking area was filled with cars, pickups, and motorcycles.

  “The Inn’s been around a long time,” he told her as he jumped down from the truck. “They have a lot of repeat customers.”

  He jogged to the passenger side and opened her door. She clung to the blanket as he helped her down. When his hand touched hers, the strangest feeling stole through her.

  Safe.

  She mentally shook herself because, really, no place was safe, but when he dropped her hand the feeling didn’t disappear. Her mind was turning somersaults. What was happening here?

  “I need my tote bag,” she told him.

  He handed it to her, and she followed him toward the entrance, feeling like a leftover from a cat fight. Her clothes were still damp, but warmed by the heater in the truck, they stuck to her like a second skin. Her hair, cut more for serviceability than style, straggled around her face. She used the fold of the blanket to cover the fanny pack, which the shirt in its bedraggled condition could no longer disguise.

  “I have to know about my car,” she reminded him.

  She was already feeling helpless and vulnerable, the panic working its way through her again. She couldn’t just hang around to see what happened. Give Peter time to root her out.

  “I said I’ll take care of everything,” he told her, “and I will. While you get registered, I’ll get that pile of junk towed. Then you need a hot shower and a good night’s sleep. Which it doesn’t look as if you’ve had for a while, by the way.”

  Sleep. He was so right about that. For days she hadn’t closed her eyes except for brief periods. Even when she napped on the bus, she was never fully at rest, and it was catching up with her. The fatigue that had grabbed her on the highway washed over her again. A full night’s rest beckoned so invitingly.

  Wait! Was she crazy, trusting this complete stranger? She’d just spent days running away from the last man she trusted, a man she knew a lot better than this one, and look how that had worked out.

  She nibbled her lower lip. “I’m not sure…”

  Not sure she should put herself in the hands of a stranger? He couldn’t be any worse than someone she knew.

  “Jesus.” He rubbed his hand over his face, as if wiping away his own weariness. “Are you for real? Can we please not argue about this anymore?”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry. Let me go take care of business.” The last thing she needed right now was for him to get mad at her. She was disintegrating bit by bit. The necessity of staying alive and keeping ahead of the hunters had been the glue that held her together, had formed who she was now, Kate Griffin, and Kate Griffin didn’t come undone. Couldn’t afford to.

  The minute they entered the lobby, Kate was slammed by a blast of frigid, artificially-cooled air, and she began shivering harder.

  Quinn cast a studied eye at her and pulled the blanket tighter around her. “Come on. I’ll talk to Anna for you.”

  The motel lobby was small but neat and clean. Leather furniture was scattered over terra cotta tiles, and two tall cactus plants guarded the entrance. The woman behind the counter smiled as they approached.

  “Brought you a stray, Anna. Got a single she can have?”

  “I think I might just have one tucked away,” she grinned. “It’s Key to the Hills Race Week, and everyone’s jammed, but I always hold one or two rooms back.”

  “Great. We’ll take one.”

  Kate, who had been standing next to Quinn shivering in her damp clothes, turned as the door to the lobby swished open, and nearly fainted. Oh, Holy Mother, they can’t have found me again. So soon. In this godforsaken place.

  Two unsmiling men, dressed in jeans and T-shirts rather than suits, were advancing on the desk, eyes focused on her. It didn’t have to be them. It could be just two strangers here to see the race, but she couldn’t take any chance.

  “I have to get out of here,” she whispered to Quinn. “Right this minute.”

  He looked at her and raised an eyebrow. “Get out of here? Why?”

  “I just do. Please. Don’t ask any questions.” She tugged on his arm and headed to the hallway off the lobby. “And don’t leave me, okay?”

  “Kate, what’s going on?” He hustled al
ong with her.

  She literally ran for the truck, threw herself inside, and locked the door.

  “Lock your door, too,” she told Quinn as soon as he climbed inside. “Can we get out of here? Right now?”

  She was shaking so badly she could hardly get the words out. He turned on the ignition and flipped on the heater again, then sat behind the wheel staring through the windshield at the rain dripping off the motel. There was tension in every line of his body.

  He’s probably wondering why the hell he ever stopped in the first place, trying to figure out how and where to dump me.

  “Can we just go? Please?” Before those men come back out here.

  Quinn looked at her once, then cranked the engine and backed out of the parking lot.

  “You want to tell me what this is all about?” he asked when they were back on the highway.

  “I…I thought I recognized those two men. I-I’m trying to get away from a bad situation and I thought…someone…had sent them.” She hugged her arms around her body, the chill still knifing through her.

  Bad situation. Boy, that’s the truth.

  Quinn sighed. “Okay. The next town’s only thirty miles away. It’s bigger so they’ll probably have a room.”

  Thirty miles away. With no car. Her own about to be towed to some stranger’s garage. And who was to say they couldn’t follow her there.

  “Are you married?” she asked.

  The look of pain that flashed briefly across his face stunned her, but he shook his head. “No. I live alone.”

  “Then will you take me home with you?” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. How insane was that, asking to go home with a man she’d known for five seconds. And she didn’t even know where he lived.

  But there was something so solid about him, so strong. Not a man to be cowed by Peter’s thugs. She didn’t know how she knew that, but she did. She held her breath as she waited for his answer.

  “You want to tell me exactly what kind of trouble I’d be bringing into my home?”