Capitol Offense (Texas Heroines in Peril) (2 page)

Relief rushed over her. The policeman's
interest in her was no different than most men's. Her good looks
never went unnoticed. She told herself she should be used to it.
For her entire 25 years, she had been a noted beauty. But any man's
interest baffled her today. She could not believe anyone could find
her attractive after all she had endured and the miles she had
traveled since she had donned her suit and applied her makeup at
seven that morning in Austin.

Had that been the same day? Her mind quickly
traced over the day's movements. Yes, she thought, it was on this
same morning she had taken breakfast as usual. And she had dressed
for work as usual. But nothing about the remainder of the day was
routine. Her heart hammered as she recalled climbing out the
bathroom window at the Sears.

What would have become of her if she had not
been able to leave Austin and flee to San Antonio? She wondered by
what method they had planned to kill her. She was by no means safe
yet. Just because she had removed herself from the eye of the storm
did not mean its devastating gales could not reach her.

Perhaps the most despairing aspect of her
situation was that she had kept the dangerous secret to herself far
too long. No one would believe her story. The FBI agent who was now
dead had told her so two weeks earlier, and her story had not been
as ridiculous as it was now. Others who might listen to her could
be bought off.

She wondered again if there was anyone to
whom she could turn. And again, she thought of Mike. It wouldn't be
right to get him mixed up in this mess. Her mess. A mess he had
instinctively warned her about. Oh, God, why hadn't she listened?
Why hadn't she flown to Houston to repair their rift? Why had she
let the love of her life get away?

Night crept up so slowly, she was startled
when at last she noticed it.

As she paused to catch her
breath, an ancient hotel—
not
one that had been refurbished in recent
decades—caught her attention, and a force from within pulled her to
it. She soon found herself in the lobby of the half-forgotten
downtown hotel. It was a shabby old place with a skinny little
lobby filled with derelicts sitting around on banged up benches and
cheap vinyl couches. The badly worn carpet looked like something
from a grand old movie house of a bygone era. She didn't know what
had attracted her until she saw, almost hidden over in the corner,
two mahogany phone booths.

She tossed a glance at the middle-aged man
behind the desk. "Do the phones work?"

"They shore do, ma'am."

Her mouth curved into a smile as she strode
to the first one. She sat on the interior stool, closed the door
and lifted the receiver to place a telephone call to Mike Talamino
in Houston.

Chapter 2

Until she placed the call, Lacy had not
known she was going to call Mike. She had not seen him in nearly
two years. But now that her life--as well as the lives of
others--was in danger, he seemed the only one in the state who
could help. If she was sure of anything, it was of Mike's complete
honesty. No one could corrupt him.

After the second ring, she mumbled a plea.
Three rings and still no answer. Surely he wouldn't have changed
his cell number. He was her only chance. Four rings. He
answered.

The warmth of his voice reassured her that
calling him had been the right thing to do.

"Hello, Mike."

"Lacy?"

"Yes."

There was a silence, then he spoke. "Is it
really you? God, I was just thinking about you today. I heard on
the radio about you and Chambers." His voice was dry. Cool.

"I'm not going to marry him." Her voice
shook. "Oh, Mike, I can't say much on the phone, but please believe
me. I'm afraid I'm going to be killed. I've managed to escape, but
I've got to have help---"

"Slow down. What's wrong?"

"I can't go into that now. Please don't tell
anyone. It could be---"

"Where are you?"

"I'm in San Antonio." She paused. "Could you
possibly come here?"

"Of course. I'll leave right now."

"Thank God." Her voice cracked. Tears
spilled from her eyes. "How long will it take you?"

"It's a four-hour drive, but maybe I can get
there sooner on a plane. Let me check the airlines and call you
back."

The ensuing wait worried her. What if his
phone was bugged? Or would someone be watching his house? Would
they be watching the airports? If a five-minute wait was this hard
on her, how could she manage a four-hour one?

He rang back after five minutes. "Listen,
I'm on the way to the airport. I got a flight and can be in San
Antonio in about two hours. Where do you want me to meet you?"

"How about the little
Mexican restaurant on the river,
Casa del
Rio
?" She had passed by it earlier in the
evening and thought the name appropriate.

"I'll be there before ASAP."

"Mike . . ." She paused, remembering the
confiscated letter.

"Make absolutely certain no one follows you.
There's a remote possibility you might be under surveillance."

"Me?"

"Possibly."

"Why?"

"I'll tell you all about it when you get
here. Just please be careful."

"You too."

Her step seemed lighter as she set off for
the Mexican restaurant. She had not eaten since breakfast, and that
had been twelve hours ago.

If anything could be enjoyable after the
harrowing events of the day, the Mexican food the little restaurant
offered was. She ordered the Mexican platter: enchiladas, tacos,
refried beans, Spanish rice and guacamole salad. Normally she would
not have finished it, but she cleaned her plate and began snacking
on chips.

The dozens of colorful umbrella tables
scattered along the riverfront had caught her attention when she
entered the restaurant, but her table was not on the water. She
could be spotted too easily there. Instead, she had selected a
table on the restaurant's veranda. It was a good thing. There was a
lengthy line of people sipping cocktails while waiting for a
riverfront table.

With her food gone and her apprehension over
the impending meeting quickly mounting, she began to think about
Mike. Lacy knew Mike was close to asking her to marry him when she
joined the staff of Lieutenant Governor Jim Chambers. Mike did not
like Chambers. She frequently broke dates with Mike so she could
work overtime drafting speeches for the boss she adored.

She and Mike had argued over the lieutenant
governor constantly. "What amazes me," Mike had said, "is that you
can't see through him. You believe Chambers cares about people."
She had defended her boss, and the relationship between her and
Mike fizzled away, spat by spat. Finally, Mike's position in
Houston gave them a good excuse to dispense with the pretense of
harmony.

In the midst of her reverie, she saw him. He
stood at the side entrance to the cafe, scanning over the tables
until he saw her. When their eyes met, her stomach nearly gave
away. Seeing him brought back feelings she had forgotten she had
for the lean, dark lawyer. By other people's standards, he might
not be considered handsome. He was nice looking, and tonight he
seemed unbelievably good-looking standing slightly over six feet
with long, lean trunk and shoulders that were wide but not muscle
bound. His face was pensive with piercing brown eyes framed with
rimless glasses. He had not smiled, but she could not help
remembering that crooked, almost sensuous grin of his.

The dead-sexy smile did not seem to go with
the rest of him. There was an almost OCD neatness about his
appearance that coupled with an air of intelligence was wildly
divergent from that devilish grin.

As she remembered his deep
tenderness, she caught her breath.
What a
fool I was
.

His face betrayed no emotion. He stalked
across the floor to her table, his eyes sweeping over those who
surrounded her. "Ready?"

She nodded, and with a grim face, rose,
still queasy inside.

When they reached the street, he spoke. "I
suppose you've a long story to tell."

She nodded and let him lead.

"Well, we'd better find a safe place. I
don't think it's the kind of thing you talk about in the rear of a
cab, is it?"

"No."

"You say you've been followed but you
managed to lose them?"

"Yes. In Austin. As far as I know, they
don't know I'm here." She tried to sound casual. She wasn't quite
ready to bare her fears to him. She would need a while to slip back
to their former familiarity.

Right now she still felt adoring and
awkward. "We're talking powerful people."

"Good grief, Lacy, why haven't you tried to
disguise yourself? You know, you might be considered uncommonly
beautiful."

They walked in silence, Lacy feeling feather
light because he had said she was uncommonly beautiful. They
entered a downtown variety store that was still open. It was one of
those large stores that stocked everything from cosmetics to cheap
dishes. Mike marched to the closest thing the store had to a men's
clothing section, and he grabbed a straw hat.

Lacy would be hard pressed to say what kind
of hat it was. It looked like something her grandfather wore
fishing. Mike stuck it on her head. It was much too big.

"Got anything to pin up your hair with?" he
asked.

She shook her head.

"What about a rubber band?"

She suddenly remembered she had in her purse
some index cards with bits of research and topic ideas for future
speeches. And around them was thick rubber band. She reached in her
purse and removed the band from the cards. Then she swept back her
dark hair and secured it with the rubber band.

Mike checked several hats for size until he
found one marked small. "Try this," he said, smashing it on her
head.

"Mike, I couldn't possibly---"

"You will," he commanded.

They walked down another aisle. He pointed
at the eye makeup. "You better pick up some of this stuff, too. How
about some of that purple eye goop and lots of that red junk for
your cheeks?"

She wanted to protest but didn't dare. She
was clearly in the subservient position now.

"You need to get out of that suit," he said,
sorting through a pile of Alamo souvenir T-shirts. "Get one of
these and some jeans. Sloppy, loose fitting jeans."

"You want to get men's?" she asked
sarcastically.

"Not a bad idea." He said returned to what
passed for a clothing and held up a the smallest pair of men's
pants, looked at her petite body, and said, "No way. We'd better
get women's."

"I promise to get two sizes too big."

The first hint of his old smile
returned.

She put cheap blue denim jeans and canvas
tennis shoes in the basket which held the hat, T-shirt and make
up.

Before leaving the store, Mike selected
still another guise, a pair of cheap reading glasses.

"I may end up with Barnum and Bailey yet,"
she said dryly.

His crooked grin reappeared.

The bond between them was still there. She
was comforted by the thought.

After paying for the camouflaging devices,
they trekked back to the River Center mall, where he selected an
inexpensive overnight bag.

"What's that for?"

"Part of my plan."

"Oh, that explains a lot."

"You'll see."

They walked toward the cash register.

"Now," he said, "we need to find a place
where you can put on your disguise without anyone seeing the
transformation."

"No one would notice in this store. It's
pretty busy. Why don't I find the women's restroom, put on the
stuff and meet you outside?"

"Sounds good."

He slowly turned his head, his eyes sweeping
across the floor of the store. "No one seems to be watching," he
whispered. "Meet me where we came in."

He walked away.

She located the women's restroom easily,
relieved that she did not have to make any inquiries. Calling
attention to herself was the last thing she wanted to do.
Especially since her picture was in the news today.

No one shared the restroom with her. She
entered a stall and took off the navy suit, swapping for the sloppy
T-shirt and sloppy jeans and stuffing what represented a week's
salary into the plastic sack. Next, she left the stall, quickly
applied the purple eye shadow and red blush under the harsh lights
of the restroom's mirrors. Last, she plopped on the hat and put on
the glasses. No way could she wear that hat. It was night, for
crissake! She'd really call attention to herself if she walked
around with the straw hat on. Mike had selected the lowest
magnification number for the glasses so they would not be too
different from normal vision.

They met at the assigned
place and began to walk along the
Paseo
del Rio
until they came to a tile-roofed
Spanish looking hotel. Its rooms featured iron-railed balconies
that overlooked the river. "We'll stay here," he said.

"That's why you wanted the suitcase."

He gave her a sly nod.

As soon as they got to
their room, she sat on the sofa. She was so glad to sit down. There
were blisters on her heels. Her gaze fanned over the spacious room.
It featured French windows which led out to the balcony that
overlooked the
Paseo del
Rio
. Mike came to sit beside her and
stretched his arm across her back, pulling her to him. Her heart
fluttering, she scooted closer. He made her as lightheaded as
champagne.

"I'm surprised you've restrained your
laughter." She yanked off the reading glasses."What name did you
use to check us in?" She'd told him not to use his real name.