One Tough Texan. Barb Han
to turn herself in and that would make things a lot easier on her legally. But then, she would already know that.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
“Do you live nearby or have a ride anywhere around here?” She kept a brisk pace as round two of pouring rain flooded them.
“Yeah, my Jeep’s a couple blocks away. But it won’t do any good.”
“Why not?” she asked, navigating them out of the dark parking lot as the sound of sirens neared.
Either she or Perez had shot the light out in back of the convenience store and his money was on her. “Out of gas.”
She muttered a curse as she led him into the field.
“Stay low,” she directed.
“You know that clerk can give the police our descriptions,” Joshua hedged.
“He was too surprised to pay attention. He won’t be able to give them anything more than a general idea. You’re tall and that might mean something outside of Texas but all the men seem over six feet here. Plus, we rushed in and straight to the back without showing our faces. No way will that young kid be able to give them anything they can work with and any recording will be too grainy to make out,” she responded matter-of-factly.
More proof that she knew a little too much about the process to hold up her claim of not being in law enforcement. Plus, he picked up on the fact that she was from out of state because of her height reference. No one in Texas really thought about whether or not six feet was tall.
“Why are you running?” Joshua asked.
“I’m not,” she dismissed him.
“Maybe the appropriate question is, Who are you running from?” It couldn’t be Perez since she was trying to be captured by him. She’d said they had boys together, another reason he should ignore any sexual current flowing between them. Once they were safe he’d ask her about her family situation.
“Stay down and be quiet if you want to get out of here alive,” she said, irritation lining her tone.
Since Alice, if that was her name, was already belly down he figured he’d better do the same. She’d holstered her weapon and that reminded him of the fact she wore an ankle holster in the first place. No one did that outside law enforcement.
“Where are you from?” he asked.
“Tucson,” she said.
“Why are you really here?” he asked, retrieving his hat.
“I already told you,” she said. “My ex.”
“You can drop the act,” Joshua said, not bothering to hide the fact he was done with lies. Besides, the thought of her returning for an ex stirred a different reaction inside him—jealousy? “Nobody and especially not me believes you came all the way out here to be abducted by the father of your children.”
He intended to find out what she was really up to and how much of what she’d said was the truth.
* * *
WAITING FOR OFFICERS to clear out of the gas station while lying belly down in two inches of water wasn’t Alice’s idea of a great Friday night. Then again, being dumped by the father of her twins two weeks before the babies had arrived hadn’t been, either. Fridays were right up there with poking her eyes with hot sticks.
Soaked to the bone, she shivered as she waited for the cruiser to leave the gas station. The cold front that had been promised was moving in. Experience told her that the clerk hadn’t actually witnessed a crime so there wouldn’t be much to investigate. A deputy would take a statement, file a report and move on. Then, he or she would keep an eye out for anything suspicious in the area for the rest of the night.
The deputy left ten minutes after he’d arrived.
“Take my jacket,” Joshua said, sitting up, water sloshing as it rolled off him and hit the puddle on the ground.
“It’s okay. I can handle it,” she said quickly. Being on the force, Alice had learned not to admit weakness. Officers depended on one another in life-threatening situations and being a woman she felt that she had to prove herself even more so than male officers. Men had a height and weight advantage, and they tended to be stronger. Alice wasn’t the tallest person at five feet four inches and she’d been mistaken for a teenager by people approaching from behind more than once while wearing street clothes. She’d had to work hard to compensate for her size differential.
“Your teeth are chattering,” the cowboy said. And his tone almost made her laugh out loud. He sounded almost offended that she hadn’t accepted his chivalry.
A female cop coming off as needy or not being able to pull her weight killed her career before it got started. It was a certain way to make the officer next to her wonder if she could come through in a clutch and since lives were at stake everyone took that seriously. So, even if it made her look stupid or she caught the death of a cold later she couldn’t accept his jacket.
“Believe it or not, I can take care of myself and I have been for a long time. I don’t need your charity,” she quipped defensively. Spending time with this cowboy was going to be fun. If by fun she meant stabbing her fingers with a serrated knife.
“Suit yourself,” came out about as flat as her pancakes.
Hey, it was the twenty-first century. Women weren’t slaves to the kitchen anymore. And that was pretty much how she defended her lack of cooking skills. She could, however, make one mean pot of coffee. And wasn’t that more important anyway? “The gas container you used to create a diversion earlier should be around here somewhere.”
“Yep.”
Great, now they were at one-word answers. She’d spent enough time around the opposite sex to know that she’d offended him, didn’t have time to care. He was alive. He could thank her later. “Think you can find it?”
“Of course.”
At least he was up to two words now.
Maybe she should’ve left him back at the station. Except that she was responsible for getting him into this mess in the first place and she couldn’t let him get himself killed given that he was genuinely trying to help her. And stupidity could be deadly.
Joshua was a liability.
She needed to convince him just how much danger he was in and that he needed to turn himself in. There was a reason she’d saved Perez’s organization for last. People didn’t walk away after they saw him. He had no qualms about erasing a threat, real or perceived. Precisely the reason he was considered one of, if not the most ruthless criminal in the United States.
It was getting late. The trail was a dead end now. Alice was starving and she needed to get back to her motel room to bunk down for the night while she came up with plan B. She also needed to touch base with her informant and let him know everything had gone south.
Pushing up to her feet proved more of a challenge than she expected. She landed down on her bottom pretty darn quick with a splash.
The cowboy was by her side in a half second, helping her to her feet.
“I haven’t slept in a few days,” she said quickly and a little too sharply.
“Yeah? Even Superwoman needs rest.”
She didn’t say anything and the cowboy didn’t budge.
“When was the last time you had a decent meal?” he asked, standing so close that her body was aware of his every breath.
“It’s been a while. I got distracted tracking this lead,” she quipped. Exhaustion was taking a toll and she couldn’t help herself. Her tone tended toward being harsh in a situation like this. “Thanks for the hand up, by the way.”
“No problem. You don’t have to sound like I broke your arm.”
What?