The Only Way Out. Susan Mallery
She turned around and glared at him. “Listen, Rambo, I’m not having a good day here. You didn’t kill me, so I assume you’re either toying with me, waiting to turn me back over to Kray or you’re genuinely trying to help. As you pointed out, you’re stronger than me, you’re armed and right now you’re holding my son. I think you’ve got enough of an advantage without resorting to giving me a hard time, as well.”
“The name’s Jeff,” he said.
Her gaze narrowed. “Is there a last name, or don’t I need to know?”
He didn’t answer.
“Figures.” She returned her attention to the empty road. “That way,” she said, pointing.
He followed her out of the brush. A hundred feet or so up the road there was a turnout. As she’d mentioned, the Jeep was parked behind a tree, partially concealed by brush. Someone driving by quickly wouldn’t spot it. Someone looking for it would see it in a minute.
He moved closer, then stopped dead. “That’s your car?”
She nodded cautiously. “What’s wrong with it?”
He looked from the vehicle to her. “It’s a rental.”
“I know. I wasn’t able to bring my own car across the Gulf of Mexico. The water was a little too deep for my convertible.”
“Let me guess. You flew in on a commercial flight, flashing your passport and credit cards at will.” He swore under his breath. “Stupid woman.”
“Don’t call me stupid.”
“Don’t yell at my mommy.”
Kray’s ex-wife and child both glared at him. He bent over and lowered Bobby to the ground. The boy scampered over to stand next to his mother.
“He’s mean,” Bobby announced.
The childish pronouncement shouldn’t have mattered, but Jeff felt a slight sting. Andie laid a protective hand on the kid’s shoulder.
“I may be inexperienced, but I’m not stupid,” she said. “I flew into San Juan, then took a series of tourist boats from one island to the other. I haven’t had to use my passport and I’ve paid for everything in cash.”
“Except for the rental,” he said.
“They wouldn’t let me pay cash. Besides there’s a hundred just like it on the island. The rental company only has Jeeps.”
“Did you pay cash at the hotel in town?”
“I haven’t been to a hotel.”
He raised his eyebrows. “When did you arrive?”
She brushed her hair out of her face. “Two days ago.”
“Where have you been staying?”
“In the Jeep.” She gestured wearily to the jungle around them. “I’ve been sleeping out, when I could sleep. Are there snakes on St. Lucas?”
“Some.” He looked her over, more thoroughly this time. Weariness lined her face. There were shadows under her eyes, and her jeans weren’t as clean as they could have been. Camping out in the jungle for two nights. Not bad.
He walked over and popped the trunk. She’d brought a small bag of clothing. He unzipped it. A pair of jeans, shorts for Bobby, T-shirts and underwear for herself and the boy. No makeup, no impractical shoes or fancy dresses. Next to the satchel was a cardboard box filled with bottled water, fresh fruit and a half-eaten loaf of bread.
“You buy this in a local store?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I went to the port when the cruise ship came in and shopped with the tourists. I’m obviously not a native. I figured it was the only way I would be able to blend in.”
“I’m impressed.”
He’d thought she might say something smart, but instead she smiled. A warm genuine smile that exposed perfect white teeth and made his gut clench. She’d been a model in Europe, earning a living on runways and in print ads. She’d never made it big, and after her marriage to Kray, she’d disappeared. God help the advertising world if they’d ever seen her smile. She could have made millions.
He ignored his typically male reaction to a pretty face, reminding himself it didn’t mean a thing. It sure as hell wasn’t about her specifically. She’d once belonged to Kray. He would rather be roasted over open coals than be attracted to a woman Kray had been with.
He walked around the vehicle. The glove box was locked. He held out his hand for the key. She reached into her jeans pocket and pulled it out. He opened the vehicle’s door, sat on the passenger seat and unlocked the glove box. Her purse spilled out. He dug around in it until he found her wallet. She murmured a protest, but didn’t try to stop him. He looked at her California driver’s license.
“Not a great picture,” he said.
“I was having a bad hair day.”
He flipped through the credit cards. There was enough plastic here to buy a car. She had a couple thousand in cash, and no traveler’s checks. He put the wallet back and searched until he found her passport. It was in her name. Bobby was listed on the document. That was something at least.
“What do you do in your real life, Andie?” he asked, stuffing the purse and its contents back in glove box and finally looking at her.
She stood by the edge of the Jeep. Her spine was straight, defying her weariness. “I go to law school.”
He laughed out loud.
Andie glared at him. “Why are you so surprised? Even bimbos have brains.”
He cleared his throat. “Look, I’m sorry I called you a bimbo. I’m sure you’re a great person, even if you have lousy taste in men. Does Kray know you’re studying law?”
“I don’t care if he does. Despite what you might or might not think of me, until three weeks ago I hadn’t seen or spoken to my ex-husband in over five years.”
Jeff stepped out of the car. “Kray doesn’t let go easily. Especially not a woman like you.”
She rubbed at her damp cheek, then stared at the dirt on her fingertips. “I’m a real prize. You can see the men lining up for miles. It made it hard to get away, as you can imagine.”
He had a feeling that if she stopped mouthing off, she would start crying. He couldn’t deal with her tears. It would make him feel sorry for her, and he didn’t want that. He didn’t want to think of her as a person. Not now, not after what had happened with Jeanne. He couldn’t forget and he wouldn’t forgive. It might not have been Andie Cochran’s fault, but he still blamed her for being alive when his wife wasn’t.
“How are you planning to get away?” he asked. “Back the way you came?”
She stared at him without answering.
He walked over to her, stopping so close that she had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze. Fear battled with exhaustion and determination.
“Kray controls this island,” he said quietly. “He comes here several times a year to relax.”
“I know that,” she said. “That’s why I was able to find Bobby.”
“You don’t get it. He owns the ground we’re standing on. He owns or controls all the hotels, half the banks and most of the people. He’s everywhere. You’ve been lucky, but don’t expect your luck to hold out. How are you planning on getting off of the island?”
“I won’t tell you. How do I know you’re going to help me? How do I know you aren’t with Kray? Maybe you’re keeping me hostage until he gets back and then you’ll turn me over to him. I won’t tell you anything.” She glared at him. “Not a word. I don’t care what