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Authors: Pam Richter

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"I know she'd be safer at Dad's," Robin was saying
on the telephone, "but I don't want my parents involved.  It's too inflammatory. 
Yes, I know we have to get away.  You just get Tony over here to take the material
from Sandy.  We're making two copies.  And you better keep this under your vest,
Jay.  Don't involve the police again.  Tony can meet us there with a rental car. 
And tell Bob to get my car.  It's parked up the street from Quijada's.  Sandy will
have the key."

Robin slammed down the phone and handed it to Julia.  "Call
the Beverly Hills Hotel and tell them you're authorizing a woman named Carolyn Tandy
to come and get your things.  Tell them to give you the fax number, so you can send
a note.  Make a copy of your driver's license and credit card so they'll know it's
genuine.  Say there was a family emergency, that you have to leave now."

During all the frantic activity, she watched Robin as he
worked the computers, faxes and telephones in this sophisticated home office as
though he belonged here.  She had never seen anyone move with such efficiency and
speed.  He was on the telephone several times, giving instructions to other people
about complicated things he seemed to be working on.  Finally he made a personal
call to his father.  He was relating what had transpired that day.  Apparently his
father was trying to persuade Robin to take her to his own home, as his friend Jay
had done.

"Dad, I can't let you be involved in this situation...I'm
pleased that you want to help, but it's better this way.  Yes, I will promise to
be careful.  Of course.  Give love to Mom.  Yes...I promise you'll meet Julia when
this whole thing is over."

Robin slammed down the phone and ran out of the room. 
Julia helped Sandy put the ledger books back together and wondered what he was doing. 
It didn't take long to find out.  He returned with two leather jackets, two helmets
and a large briefcase.

"Try this one," Robin said, handing her a jacket. 

It almost reached her knees and the sleeves covered her
fingers, but Robin seemed pleased.  At least he was smiling.

He had repacked her camera bag with the original documents
and videos she had taken from Quijada's safe.  They had only been in this home for
about twenty minutes.  Julia realized he had intended all along to copy the information
she would give him here, at his friend's house.

"I'm going to give the camera bag back to the men
in the car outside," Robin said.  "I'll say there was a mistake and you
just realized you had some of Quijada's property.  When I do, I want you to go out
the side door and wait for me in the garage.  Try to slip outside when I'm talking
to the men, so they don't see you."

Robin had placed one copy of each of the ledger books in
the briefcase, along with the copies of the videos.  He handed it to her and they
started down the stairs at a run.

"I don't think they'll believe we could copy the stuff
this fast.  But if anything happens to me, you just hand over the briefcase to whomever
asks for it.  Sandy will have duplicates, but I want to look the material over,
too.  Also, if they capture us, it'll be safer if I have something to give them."

They reached the front door and Robin said, "I'm sorry
about the camera bag, but I want them to believe I'm handing the items back in it's
original package.  That it hasn't been tampered with.  I'll get you another one."

She wanted to say it didn't matter.  She wanted to say
that she couldn't believe she was only paying two hundred dollars a day for a man
who had saved her life; a man who took drugs to help her find her brother's killer. 

She looked at Robin and saw the man who had been there
when her brother died and had comforted her; the man who had agreed to her crazy
scheme to steal and replace damming information about Quijada; the man who hugged
her and didn't try to take advantage.  She thought she was in love with him, and
put it down to gratitude.

Julia threw her arms around his neck, hugged him tightly,
and kissed his cheek. 

"What was that for?" Robin asked.  He looked
a little astonished at her uncharacteristic behavior, but now Sandy was pulling
on her arm, trying to rush her away.

"Everything," Julia said, unable to express what
she was thinking within the time constraints.  "Be careful." 

Sandy pulled her roughly toward the garage side of the
house, through the kitchen and to the side door.  When she let go Julia rubbed her
arm.  Sandy's grip had been a painful vice, but maybe she was scared.

Sandy carefully slipped outside and hurried to the garage. 
When she saw it was safe she motioned for to Julia to come.  Sandy was already packing
the briefcase on the back of the Harley-Davidson when Julia sneaked inside the garage.

"I really appreciate all your help," Julia said
to Sandy. The woman had not uttered a single word that Julia had heard during the
whole time they were in the house.  The woman nodded grimly, "If you hurt Robin,
in any way, you won't have to wait for Aaron Quijada to come get you.  I will personally
find pleasure in causing you great bodily damage, myself."

Julia felt struck dumb.  "I don't understand."

"You have tricked Robin into a very dangerous situation,
with your pretty face and fancy ways.  But it was a very reckless and stupid thing
to do." 

Sandy had heard Robin talking to his father and knew all
about the theft.  She was extremely angry.

Julia felt immediate guilt wash over her because the woman
was right.  In committing a felony, she and had induced Robin into becoming her
accessory. 

"You're right, Sandy.  I wasn't thinking of the consequences. 
I'm very sorry."

"Sorry isn't good enough.  He's a wonderful young
man, with a brilliant career, and you may have ruined everything."

The woman looked at Julia contemptuously.

"Robin must be good friends with the person who owns
this house, because you seem to know him well," Julia said, trying to draw
the woman out so that she could learn more.

"I've known Robin since he was a baby.  And the two
are inseparable," Sandy said. 

"So Robin keeps his dog here?  And his truck?"

"I said they were inseparable," Sandy repeated
impatiently.

"That's quite enough!"  Robin had entered the
garage and he was glaring at Sandy.  "Everything will be okay.  I don't want
you to worry.  Just take care of Scooter and we'll be back in no time."

Robin grabbed one of the helmets, plopped it on Julia's
head and fastened the strap under her chin.  "Tuck your hair in, or it'll get
tangled in the wind.  The people out front want to talk to you, and are not leaving,
so we have to escape."

Robin put on his helmet and stomped on the starter pedal. 
The machine let out an enormous roar.  Robin threw his right leg over the saddle
and sat down.  He motioned for Julia to climb on behind him.

Sandy took gloves and a pair of riding goggles out of her
pocket and handed them to Robin.  He winked at her and tousled her hair because
it was too noisy, now, in the garage to speak.  Then he nodded at Sandy and she
went over to the garage door and pushed a button.  The garage door started opening.

Robin took Julia's hands, which she had placed tentatively
on the front of his jacket and pulled her forward, locking her arms around him. 
She could feel him leaning forward, pulling her with him, as they hurtled out of
the garage.

CHAPTER 17

J
ulia screamed the first time Robin took a fast
corner, which was immediately out of his driveway when he passed the black Mercedes
parked at the gate.  He almost laid the huge motorcycle over on it's side.  Julia
closed her eyes and prepared for a violent crash, in that instant imagining herself
sliding over asphalt on the side of her face.  But miraculously he righted the vehicle
on the road down toward Sunset Boulevard. 

Julia saw the black car make a clumsy turn behind them,
but she was too petrified with fear to glance back again, as Robin went through
a series of tricky and sickening maneuvers, with what felt like lethally inclined
turns through a maze of alleyways in back of the homes in the area, where trash
was picked up out of sight of the wealthy homeowners.  He skipped several blocks
going through the alleys in an effort to confuse the men following, who would have
a hard time trying to guess which block he would come out on.

Robin was hunched over the bike and Julia held on for dear
life, burying her head in the back of his leather jacket and closing her eyes, as
they progressed through the alleys, down Alpine Way and then crossed Sunset Boulevard. 
They went through the 'flats' of Beverly Hills and rode at breathtaking speed north
down Santa Monica Boulevard. 

Robin drove up La Cienega Boulevard, and then they were
moving more sedately down Fountain Avenue, which ran parallel to Sunset.  Every
once in a while she could see Robin glancing behind them and feel the movement in
his large shoulders.  She felt like a bug plastered on the back of a speeding shark,
but after a while she started to enjoy the thrilling ride. 

When there were two lanes of traffic in the same direction
Robin sometimes sent the motorcycle down through the narrow middle, so that they
were at the front of the line of cars waiting for a red light.  Some cars honked
at them, but in Los Angeles the drivers seemed used to reckless and rude motorists.

At one of the red lights, Robin turned and looked at her.
"You all right?"

Julia didn't have any breath left for a reply, she had
been holding it for most of the trip, and merely nodded.  She thought of the title
of a book, 'Waiting to Exhale.'  She didn't feel safe enough yet for the deep exhale,
but she gave Robin a small smile.

"I think we lost them.  Watch out for police cars. 
Quijada may try to use the ones in his pocket for surveillance."

Oh great, Julia thought, as they took off again.  They
weren't safe anywhere if they had to be afraid of the police, too.  Quijada probably
already had his drug gangs watching for them.  They would never recognize a snitch
who happened to see them passing the corner where he sold heroin or cocaine.  She
craned her neck looking for police cars, and noticed that the area they were now
in, West Hollywood nearing the freeway, was rife with shabbily dressed people who
all seemed to be staring as they passed by.  Any one of them could be in Quijada's
army of drug peddlers.

Julia wondered if Robin would take her totally out of Los
Angeles.  He wanted to get rid of her, she was sure.  Put her on a plane and send
her back to Boston.  She wanted to be in on the investigation of Quijada, which
would be initiated when they had a chance to see the books and videos from the safe. 
Since she had risked stealing the stuff, she wanted to see the secrets that would
be revealed.

Julia was not used to the confusing freeways in Los Angeles
and her hope that they would not have to travel on one, especially on a motorcycle,
was quickly dashed when Robin went hurtling up an on-ramp to join the crowded 101. 
There were clusters of baffling signs pointing in every direction where the freeways
connected near the downtown area, but Robin seemed to know exactly how to navigate
from one freeway to another and they rode in the fast lane most of the time.  On
the motorcycle it felt like they were flying, and even riding a Harley-Davidson,
the biggest of all motorcycles, Julia felt they were extremely fragile and exposed
with all the other cars around them appearing as hostile, aggressive and malevolent
unthinking machines, bound to crash and crush them with their superior weight and
bulk.

They rode on for what seemed like hours.  Julia became
numbed to the bumpy vibration which traveled throughout her body.  It felt like
they had been riding for days or even weeks.  Her arms were clamped so tightly around
Robin that she could hardly feel them any more, but the worse thing was that her
hands were so exposed to the cold wind that they felt like they had frozen.  Her
feet, in her flat leather pumps, were also freezing. 

When she looked around, mountains appeared in the distance. 
They had passed small towns, but riding the freeways it became more clear than ever
that the whole Los Angeles basin had at one time been a desert.  The land had a
dry and barren feel; one could see the flat land forever in the distance, and the
wind was harsh, dry and cold.  She could feel her skin becoming desiccated as a
hungry vampire.

Robin turned on a less traveled freeway toward the peaks
ahead, and suddenly they were on a road that was winding up into the mountains that
had appeared so distant.  Julia enjoyed being off the freeway for only a little
while, because the temperature dropped alarmingly as they rose higher and she was
sure her hands and feet would be useless when she finally got off the bike.  Except
for the leather jacket, she was dressed for the summer, in linen slacks and a matching
blouse.  She now felt paralyzed with the cold.

The other unnerving aspect of the mountain ride was that
they were on a two lane highway that had a sharp drop on the right side as they
ascended in the outside lane.  There was a small guard rail, but the whole valley
was spread dizzyingly below them, when Julia got the nerve to look down.  In a car
it would have been beautiful, but on the motorcycle it was frightening because the
road twisted and turned.  Julia's imagination had them slipping over the edge dozens
of times on the hairpin curves.  They had left the desert for a cold winter landscape
in just a couple of hours.

The clumps of white on the side of the road were actually
snow, and there were large pine trees blocking out the sunshine on a smaller road
that Robin had taken.  Julia shivered impatiently and wondered where they were going. 
Was he going to hide her in some remote mountain town where she would be totally
isolated from civilization?

Finally they reached a quaint looking village with a sign 
proclaiming they had entered Lake Arrowhead.  Robin drove up what must have been
the main road and stopped the bike in a parking area in front of Joe's Restaurant. 

He took off his helmet and rolled his head around.  It
must have been exhausting driving all that way, at such reckless speeds, but he
looked at her with bright energy, smiling with dimple power.  "Are you hungry?"

"Starved," Julia said.

"Lets go."  He couldn't get off the bike until
she did.

"I can't."  Julia was embarrassed that she was
still holding on to him.

Robin gazed down at her hands, which were still locked
together, hugging him tightly.  "You can't?"

"I've tried.  My hands seem to be frozen." 
She was so tired she felt like crying.  She wanted to go to sleep right now.  Just
forget the food and lean against his back and snooze.

"You poor thing," Robin said, surprising her. 
She had expected him to laugh and treat the fact as insignificant, since he was
male and probably thought frozen hands a minor discomfort, but he took off his gloves
and covered her hands with his own.  "Why didn't I think of gloves for you? 
They feel like ice."

"Red, icy claws, by now," Julia said, smiling
a little at her predicament.  She really couldn't make them move of her own volition,
it was too painful.

"No.  They're a pretty shade of blue," Robin
answered soothingly.  He was rubbing them gently, and squeezing, trying to help
get the circulation back, warming them for some time.  "Now we're just going
to try and get the fingers apart.  One at a time."  He started working on each
finger, talking as he went along.  "First the little finger...there, it moved. 
Now for the next one.  Two fingers free!  Now to the middle finger.  Ah...that's
a hard one.  It won't budge.  We have to squeeze it a little bit, get the blood
in, there...fine, it moves too.  Now for the last one...."  All the time he
was manipulating her fingers he was talking to each one.  Squeezing gently and prying
them apart.

"Robin!"

"What?"

"You sound like you're talking to a tiny baby,"
Julia said, laughing.

"Well, these poor little hands are frozen stiff." 
He went back to the finger manipulation and baby talk.  She had a surprising flash
that he would make a wonderful father.

"That's nothing."  Her hands, finally getting
circulation, were tingling in a painful fashion.  "My feet are even worse."

Robin turned around and looked at her.  He had each of
her hands now in one of his and he was still squeezing gently and rhythmically. 
He smiled broadly, "I'm even better with toes."

Julia snatched her hands away.  "No way, Robin." 
She shook her head, but couldn't help laughing.

"Each toe will need it's very own proper massage." 
Robin nodded his head judiciously, looking very serious.

"No one touches my feet," Julia protested.

"Can you walk?"

"Sure," Julia said, not at all sure she could. 
"I wasn't clinging on with my toes.  They should be movable."

"Squeeze back a bit so I can get off."

Julia wiggled back to give him room.

"You just wait here a minute."  He put the bike
stand down and went into the restaurant.

Julia frantically tried to move her numb feet.  She didn't
want him playing with them on a public street.  She took them off the pedals, dangling
them and rotated her ankles.  They started that awful pin-pricking sensation that
begins when circulation starts up again.

"Put your frozen fingers around this," Robin
said, handing her a mug of coffee.  "I'll see to your feet."  He hunkered
by the side of the bike and took off her left shoe, and Julia didn't care.  The
cup was warm and felt wonderful in her hands.  Robin held her foot in both his warm
hands and rubbed it. 

"Umm.  This is wonderful."  She was so cold she
could feel the liquid progress down her throat, warming her with each sip.

"The foot?"

"Yes.  That feels good.  The coffee is excellent,"
Julia said as he went around the bike and took her other foot in his hand.

After a couple of minutes she handed him the coffee and
tried to get off the bike.  She was clumsy and awkward.  It felt strange standing
on her own two feet, and she staggered a bit.

"You lost your land legs," Robin said.  "When
you're on a motorcycle for a long time, it's like being on dry land after riding
a ship at sea.  I could carry you?"

Julia shook her head.  She did exercises religiously, so
being almost unable to walk was disconcerting.  She didn't like losing control,
either of her physical body or of her life.  Robin had taken her from the clutches
of the bad guys, and she was grateful, but it almost felt like he had taken over
her life as well.

The other thing she was annoyed about was that Robin was
constantly surprising her.  She enjoyed being with him so much that it worried her. 
She wanted to spend time with him and get to know him better.  On the other hand,
she didn't want to need him and she didn't want to be in this god-forsaken town;
beautiful, old fashioned and cute though it was, with it's all-wooden buildings
and signs, picturesquely piled with snow.  She knew she was tired and irritable. 
"I can walk."

Robin held her arm, but she stumbled on the wooden steps
up to the restaurant, anyway.  She was glad he didn't say anything as she staggered
into the restaurant like a drunk and almost fell into a booth.

Julia desperately needed to go to the restroom, but knew
she couldn't make it on her own, all the way across the whole place.  She sat and
drank coffee, which made the problem worse, while Robin rushed off to make phone
calls. 

The restaurant was empty after the noon trade and Julia
finally decided there was no one to see her but a lone waitress, if she fell on
her butt.  Just as she was getting up to try and make her feet take her where she
so desperately needed to go, Robin returned.

"What are you doing?"

"I need to go to the restroom," Julia said with
dignity, holding on to the table.

He nodded, went over to her and bent down, putting an arm
under her knees.  The other arm was around her shoulders.  She didn't say anything
as he started striding across the restaurant, holding her like a feather.

The waitress had just come out of the kitchen and she stood
there, transfixed.  They were close enough to the kitchen to talk to her, so Robin
said, "My friend got frost bite.  Is a hamburger all right with you?"
he asked, gazing down at her.

Julia nodded.  "And I want french fries and a chocolate
coke."

Robin went to the women's room, deposited her outside the
door, and she stumbled inside.  She hobbled into one of the stalls.  When she came
out she started doing stretching exercises, holding on to a sink for support.  She
ran in place for a minute and felt almost normal. 

When she got back to the table, the food had arrived but
Robin was not eating.  She decided he had been watching like a hawk to see if she
would have to be carried back to the table. 

"I have good news and bad news," Robin said.

"Bad first," Julia said, biting into a juicy
hamburger.

"The bad news is that your clothes and cameras aren't
going to be delivered any time soon.  Jay thought he was being followed, because
the police he was using are definitely corrupt.  Pawns of Quijada.  So he led them
on a wild goose chase, to San Francisco.  That's where all your things are now."

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