Page 7

Oh, it had existed, once. When he’d asked about it, it had seemed like a gift—a distraction to toss his way just to get him to leave.

But then those others had arrived, and she’d realized she needed him to keep her alive.

The key in her pocket went to her PO Box in nearby Pine Lake. If he got a close look at it, he’d know that.

She just needed to get him out of here, and then find an opportunity to ditch him. She’d come back just long enough to grab Jax, and then she’d find somewhere safe to hole up while she dug into this nonsense and found the truth.

She needed to prove her father hadn’t done what he was accused of. God, if she’d been worried about what extreme end-of-life dementia would do to his legacy, what would this do to it?

Not to mention, to all his other work. Vital work. And to the university and to his team! And to all the victims of viruses who wouldn’t be protected if her father’s work came to a grinding halt.

She stood on the ground below her bedroom window, watching the man descend. She could hear the others, inside, shouting and moving through the place, and she felt no further hint of that brave woman she’d temporarily become.

The stranger jumped when he was still ten feet from the ground, rolled to his feet, gripped her arm and pulled her into the snowy pine forest beyond her back lawn.

She wished for boots. For a coat. For a hat. It was freezing outside.

He seemed to know where he was going, and that gave her a little confidence. Getting lost in the vast Adirondack preserve was a terrifying prospect.

He veered westward, cutting a diagonal path through the woods that would bring them around to the only road.

She had to struggle to keep the pace he set, but at least the snow wasn’t as deep here where the pine boughs interlocked to form a canopy.

Wintry night air rushed in and out of her lungs.

She kept looking back over her shoulder as they ran, expecting to see an army of thugs chasing them.

But there were none in sight. Not yet, anyway.

They’d know where to look for them, though.

The rope ladder was still hanging from the window.

Maybe Jax would find it and use it to escape. Or maybe he’d stay hidden until those men left. The poor thing.

Finally, he stopped at the edge of the woods near the winding dirt road.

He wasn’t even winded, though Lexi panted like a racehorse and hoped no one could hear.

She sank to the ground and its cushion of pine needles, watching him stare out at the road.

Her heart was racing again, and she automatically pulled her pills from her purse and took another one.

Two were okay. More than that, not so much.

He tilted his head, listening.

Then he turned to her and jerked his head.

She rose, though she wanted to stay right where she was.

He led her out onto the road. A car sat a few yards away, and that was where he took her, moving fast and silent.

She tried to be as quiet as he was, but wasn’t having much success.

He stopped beside the car, slipping a penlight from a pocket.

Then he was on his belly, shining the light underneath.

He got up, checked the car’s interior and opened the driver’s door. “Get in.”

“But—”

“Hurry, Lexi. The keys are in the switch. Don’t start the engine yet. There’s a phone in the console.”

“There’s no signal?—”

“Use it to mark time. When five minutes have passed, start the car. Wait two more minutes. If I’m not back by then, get the hell out of here.”

“Where are you going?”

“No time. Just do what I said, okay?”

“I don’t think I can?—”

“You'll be fine. Just give me those two counts to get back. Don’t ditch me, or I’ll be dead. Okay?”

She nodded, sliding into the driver’s seat. He opened the trunk, took out a small satchel. Then he closed it without making a sound, turned and ran into the woods.

She slid her damp palms back and forth over the steering wheel as she dug around in the console for his cell phone. Its background image brought her up short. Two little boys posing in front of a decked-out Christmas tree.

This man definitely didn’t seem like daddy-material. They were probably nephews or something.

She sat there, watching the area around her, waiting, keeping track of the time. She spotted movement in the trees, then realized it was just the pine limbs swaying lazily in the wind.

His car was a Porsche with an aggressive, snarling grill. Jet black, inside and out. Expensive. It smelled new.

The digits changed. Five minutes had passed.

She prayed the bad guys had all gone deaf, depressed the clutch and started the car.

It growled to life, then sat purring like Jax after a big meal.

She stared at the phone, adjusted the mirror so she could see behind her.

She checked the emergency brake. It was on, so she released it.

As the clock ticked another minute away, she slid the shift into first gear and tried to remember the last time she’d driven a stick.

Why was she even waiting for him? Why didn’t she just leave? She had his car, she had his keys, she had his phone. She could get away.

Don’t ditch me or I’ll be dead.

She closed her eyes and told herself she wasn’t waiting one second longer than those two minutes.

The passenger door flew open and he dove in, tossing his satchel into the back. She was so startled her foot slipped off the clutch and the car stalled.

He swore. “Come on, Lexi! Go!”

She started the car, released the brake and managed to take off this time, quickly shifting into second, then third. “Are they following us?” she asked, looking up at the mirror.

“Shift! Come on!”

She shifted into fourth gear, negotiated a curve, picked up speed and shifted again. Behind her she could only see the snowy rooster-tail thrown up by the car’s tires. Ahead, only darkness. She reached for the headlight switch. He covered her hand.

“Not yet.”

“I can’t drive at this speed in the dark!” She’d get them both killed if she tried to go any faster. “Are they?—”

“Yeah, they’re coming.”

Her foot pressed harder on the accelerator. “This is insane. I’m running for my life in the middle of the night with a total stranger. I can’t drive this car! I’ve never driven a car like this in my life!”

“Wouldn’t have known that. You’re kicking ass. Go faster.”

“God, I don’t even know your name!”

“Romano,” he said.

She glanced at him briefly, not daring to take her eyes from the barely visible road ahead for more than an instant. He was turned in his seat, staring behind them, and he held something in his hand that she couldn’t identify. Not a gun.

“Romano?” she repeated stupidly.

“Molotov to my friends.”

“Molotov?” She swung the wheel and the car veered wildly. She’d almost missed that curve. “Why Molotov?”

His answer was a slow grin, and he lifted the thing he held, pointing it behind them and pressing a button with his thumb.

An explosion rocked the earth. The car vibrated with it. The night glowed for a moment, and Lexi jammed the brake and the clutch at the same time, skidding to a stop.

She looked behind them, saw what had been that another dark van, minus several important parts. A bumper landed right behind the Porsche and she jumped so hard her head bumped the ceiling.

The van was on fire and men were spilling out of it like cockroaches when the lights come on. They scurried, then regrouped and ran forward, and she heard a rat-a-tat sound she couldn’t place at first.

Then the back window exploded, and she screamed.

The man who called himself Molotov—for obvious reasons—gripped her waist in his large hands and pulled her onto his lap.

Before she could yell again, he was sliding out from beneath her into the driver’s seat.

In what seemed like a heartbeat, they were flying, and one of his hands rose to the back of her head.

“Stay down, Lexi.”

Lexi stayed down.