Gray, Ginna (21 page)

"Mmm, that was good." Lauren leaned back in the chair
and patted her lips with the linen napkin. "I didn't realize how hungry I
was."

Sam fixed her with a steady stare. "That's what happens when
you work up an appetite."

He watched her cheeks pinken, but she met his gaze squarely. Damn,
she was really something, he thought. Sexy one minute and demure the next, but
always full of that gutsy determination.

Rising, Lauren tightened the belt on the terry robe that the inn
provided. "Yes, it has been a strenuous day. As soon as I push this room
service cart into the hall I'm going to brush my teeth and go to bed. I feel as
though I could sleep for a week."

"While you do that, I'll make my calls."

Sam fished Edward Stanhope's home number out of his wallet and
picked up the telephone on the bedside table.

The other man answered on the second ring. "Ed. It's Sam
Rawlins."

"Sam. Thank God. I was hoping you'd call. Where the hell are
you?"

Sam stiffened, instantly alert. "Why? What have you
heard?"

"Enough to know you're in a heap of trouble."

"Yeah, you could say that. Look, Ed, I don't know what you've
been told, but we have a witness who can put Giovessi away for good."

Quickly and succinctly Sam related Lauren's story and the chain of
events that had followed, ending with their wild escape that afternoon.

"Without knowing who's dirty and who's not, I don't dare
contact anyone in the Denver office for help. It's even possible the corruption
goes higher than that. That's why I'm calling you. I'm hoping you can get a
message through to the top and get me some help."

"That may not be easy. Is there a television where you
are?" Ed asked.

"Yeah. Why?"

"Turn it on to a news channel."

Frowning, Sam picked up the TV remote and clicked it toward the
set across the room. The first thing he saw was a split screen, with his face
on one side and Lauren's on the other. Lauren's photo was obviously a publicity
shot from her concert days that someone had unearthed. Dressed in an elegant
evening gown, she looked poised and sophisticated, even a bit aloof. And
gut-wrenchingly beautiful.

"I repeat—a nationwide search has begun for Special Agent Sam
Rawlins of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, and Ms. Lauren Brownley, a witness
in the government's case against organized crime boss, Carlo Giovessi,"
the news anchor announced in his most serious voice.

"According to the FBI, they have evidence that Agent Rawlins
has been taking bribe money from Carlo Giovessi for years in exchange for
information on any evidence the Bureau had against the mob boss or any move
planned against him.

"It is believed that Agent Rawlins has fled with Ms.
Brownley, Mr. Giovessi's latest mistress, so that she can avoid testifying
against him during his upcoming trial."

"What?" Lauren squawked around the toothbrush in her
mouth, poking her head around the edge of the bathroom door. She stomped into
the bedroom and stared at the television screen. Toothpaste foam still covered
her lips.

"Agent Rawlins is believed to be armed and dangerous,"
the newsman continued. "If you see either of these people, please contact
the FBI office nearest you or your local law enforcement agency."

Sam cursed roundly, then growled into the phone, "It's a
setup, Ed. And the SAC knows it. I've been trying for months to flush out the
rat—or rats—in the Denver office. At Harvey's insistence. He and everyone else
in the office knew that I was getting close. Personally I think that's why he
yanked me off that job and assigned me the job of protecting Lau...Ms.
Brownley."

"Actually Harvey says he didn't want to believe you were
dirty, but several of his agents convinced him otherwise."

"Yeah, right."

"The good news is, Giovessi has been arrested and charged
with a laundry list of crimes," Ed went on. "He's being held without
bond and a trial date has been set for March 20. The Federal Prosecutors are
ready to go, but without Ms. Brownley's testimony they can't charge Giovessi
with murder. Frank Pappano's body hasn't been found yet."

"What about the drug trafficking?"

"Giovessi's slick lawyer has gotten him off on that several
times before. Harvey and others are urging the Federal Prosecutor to drop all
charges."

"Damn."

"They do have a point. The two charges are connected, and
both hinge on Ms. Brownley's testimony. If Giovessi is found innocent, and they
dig up more evidence later, he'll be protected under double jeopardy."

"Look, Ms. Brownley
is
going to testify," Sam
snapped. "My assignment is to keep her safe until the trial, and that's
what I intend to do. Whatever it takes."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line.
"I have your word on that?" Ed asked finally.

"Yes. You just make sure there is a trial and I'll have her
there."

Another silence followed. Sam could almost hear Ed thinking.
"All right. You've got a deal. I still have some clout within the Bureau
and the Federal Prosecutor's office. I'll make some calls. In the meantime, you
keep your charge safe and show up at the Federal Courthouse in Denver on March 20
and we'll nail the old bastard."

"You got it."

"And, Sam. Be careful. With your mug plastered all over the
television someone is sure to spot you. If I were you, I'd find a safe hideaway
and dig in for the next couple of months."

"Right."

The instant Sam hung up the telephone he sprang to his feet and
started snatching up their belongings and stuffing them into the duffle bag.
"Get dressed. We're getting out of here."

"What? Now?" Lauren wailed. "But we just got here a
couple of hours ago."

"It isn't safe. Did you notice how nervous the room service
waiter was when he brought our dinner? Or the strange looks he gave us?"

Her face paled. "You think he recognized us?"

"Maybe, maybe not, but it's not worth taking the risk."

Lauren agreed. She dressed and tossed her things back into the
duffle bag in under three minutes. Out in the hall, she turned toward the
elevators.

"No, this way." Sam grasped her arm and led her toward
the fire stairs at the other end of the corridor. They clambered down the metal
steps as quickly as they could, wincing at the racket they made. On the ground
floor, Sam eased open the exit door and peered outside, looking up and down the
narrow service alley that ran behind the inn. "Okay, all clear. Let's
go."

They followed the alley for a ways, then cut between two buildings
that faced onto the village courtyard. The crowd had dwindled but there were
still a few people milling around, moving from bar to bar or window-shopping.

Staying in the shadows as much as possible, Sam hustled Lauren through
the courtyard and down the terraced steps that led to the upper level parking
area. They had almost reached the bottom when two cars turned off of the
highway below and came racing up the steep, winding entrance driveway.

"C'mon, hurry," Sam ordered, grabbing her hand.

They ran down the last few steps and ducked behind the first row
of cars in the lot. Hunched down behind a minivan, they watched through the
vehicle's tinted windows as the two patrol cars screeched to a halt just a few
feet away at the bottom of the stairs. They had barely stopped when the doors
were flung open and two sheriff's deputies jumped out of each car and dashed up
the terrace steps.

"Looks like I was right about that waiter," Sam
murmured. "C'mon, we don't have much time. It won't take them long to
discover that we've flown the coop."

He started down the line of cars, darting in and out, trying the
door handles. "Bingo," he murmured when the fifth one opened.

He ran his hand under the floor mats, checked behind both visors
and in the ashtray and console. "Looks like I'm going to have to do this
the hard way. Stay here."

He walked away, searching the ground. Moments later he returned
with a grapefruit-size rock and sat down in the driver's seat of the SUV.

"What're you going to do with th—! For heaven's sake! What're
you
doing?"
Lauren squeaked when he smashed the rock against the
steering column and shattered the outer sleeve.

"What does it look like? I'm hot-wiring this car."

"What! But that's stealing!"

The car started, and Lauren jumped and darted a guilty look
around.

Sam jumped out of the vehicle and planted a hard kiss on her
mouth. "Commandeering," he corrected. He grinned at her startled
expression. "Don't worry, babe, it'll all come out in the wash eventually.
Now get in. We gotta get outta here. Now."

"We're coming into Durango," Sam announced a half hour
later. "Climb into the back and lie down out of sight. They'll be looking
for a man and woman traveling together."

Lauren quickly complied, stepping over the console to squeeze
between the two captain's chairs. "What about this car? Won't they be
looking for it?" She found a wool throw tossed over the rear backrest. She
curled up on her side on the bench seat and pulled the cover over her.

"I doubt the owner will miss it until morning. Maybe not even
then if he's going to be at the resort for a few days."

Sam drove with panache, sitting slouched casually in the seat as
though he hadn't a care in the world, but at the same time being careful to
stay well within the speed limit and obey all traffic laws.

Durango was a long, narrow town built along the Animas River, and
it seemed to Lauren that it took forever to go from the north end of town to
the south end. She lay tense as a coiled spring beneath the blanket, jumping at
every bump in the road or unexpected noise.

Finally the lighted areas grew farther apart as they reached the
southern outskirts of town, but just when Lauren began to relax Sam pulled over
and stopped.

"What is it? What's happening?" She peeked over the back
of the front seat and saw that they were parked in a service station driveway.

"Take it easy. I'm just going to call my aunt from that pay
telephone. I'll be right back."

Lauren huddled beneath the thin throw, expecting at any second to
hear a police officer bark at her to put her hands up. She jumped when the
driver's door opened and Sam slid back inside.

"All set. My uncle is going to pick us up in Cortez. We'll
ditch this SUV there."

"Is it safe for me to sit up?" Lauren asked when they'd
left the lights of Durango behind.

"As safe as it'll ever be. But why don't you just grab some
shut-eye while you're back there? You said you were sleepy."

That was before they had become car thieves and fugitives from the
law. Lauren didn't think she could sleep a wink now. She was fairly
comfortable, though, and most important, out of sight, so she decided to stay
put.

The next thing she knew someone was shaking her shoulder.

"Wake up, Lauren."

"Wha—" She sat up with a start, her gaze darting all
around. They were in the parking lot of an all-night grocery store, she
realized vaguely.

"C'mon, let's go."

Responding automatically to the sharp command in Sam's voice,
Lauren scrambled out of the vehicle. At once he ushered her into the battered
pickup parked beside the SUV and ordered her to scoot over.

"Sorry," Lauren murmured, shooting the old man behind
the wheel an apologetic look. He merely nodded.

They were driving out of the parking lot almost before Sam slammed
the pickup's door.

"Lauren, this is Walter Price. He's married to my dad's
sister, Eunice," Sam said. "Uncle Walt, this is Lauren Brownley, the
woman you've been hearing about on the news."

Walter Price nodded and touched the brim of his battered Stetson
with the tips of his first two fingers. "Miss."

"Has anyone been around looking for me?" Sam asked.

"Nope."

"Good.

"How about Dad's place? Anyone nosing around there?"

"Don't know. You'll have to ask him."

Sam snorted. "Not likely."

The taciturn old man kept his eyes on the road and said nothing,
but he shook his head almost imperceptibly.

The steady hum and crackle of the tires on the snowpacked highway
was the only sound for several minutes.

"I know you've seen the news on TV and read the papers,"
Sam said after a while. "Do you want to hear my side?"

"You do what those fellers said?"

"No."

"Then save the rest till we get home and your aunt can hear,
too. No sense telling a story twice."

That was it? That's all it took for Sam to have this crusty old
man's unquestioning trust? Lauren thought in amazement.