The Great Escape (10 page)

the door for her. As she hesitated, he told her, a thread of amusement

running through his low voice, 'Tired though you may be, I don't

think I'd trust you as far as I could throw you. If you wouldn't mind,

I'd like your company while I register for a room.'

She grimaced and heard him laugh, and who could blame him? she

thought. I wouldn't trust myself either. Sliding out of her seat, she

stuck her hands into her front pockets and joined him as he went into

the motel's office. Behind the counter was a scruffy little man with a

drooping moustache. He was reading a dogeared Western novel and

looked up uninterestedly as they entered. Mike went forward and

requested a double room for one night, and Dee flushed as the greasy

little man's eyes slid over her with an oily,, insinuating look. But one

glance at the set face of the man in front of him quelled any remark he

might have made, and he sullenly asked for the payment for the room.

Mike gave him some bills, received a key, and then turned away from

the counter, his dark face holding a fleeting look of disgust.

She had been looking at him thoughtfully, her large blue eyes

understanding, and for one moment they were both in perfect accord

as his eyes met hers. He smiled then, wryly, and put a casual hand on

her shoulder as they walked out of the office. 'Sorry about that.'

She was concentrating on her own mixed-up emotions. 'Why?'

'I wish you hadn't had to see that greasy little bug back there,' he said

a little tightly. 'I didn't mean for that to happen.'

'Oh!' she replied, a little fluster and then amused. 'You mean that guy

thinking we were having a one-night stand?'

He gave her one look, a swift piercing glance. 'That's exactly what I

mean. I won't let you have a room of your own, you know.'

'But of course not!' she exclaimed, surprised. 'I would have been

astonished if you had. I certainly didn't expect to.' She heard a low,

masculine laugh, and her brows shot up as she realised that he was

shaking his head and chuckling.

'You amaze me at every turn!' he told her. 'I half expected a tantrum

or perhaps a show of hostility when I caught up with you this time,

but you calmly tell me you hadn't expected anything else. And now

this . . . the things you manage to take into stride! You're something

special, Dee.'

'I like to think so,' she murmured, taken aback at his words of praise.

She then noticed the suitcase he hauled out of the trunk, along with

his own. 'Oh, marvellous! You brought some of my clothes! Thank

you very much.'

'You're welcome,' he replied, still laughing at her. They strolled along

the shadowy sidewalk, looking at room numbers on each door, and

when they came to their room, he stopped, put down the suitcases,

and unlocked the door. She went on ahead of him and turned on a few

light switches while he deposited their suitcases on the two beds

before locking and bolting the door.

She sank on to one bed and asked him interestedly, 'So you really

understood why I drugged you?'

Mike hesitated and then admitted slowly, 'I'm beginning to see your

perspective a bit, yes.'

'That's a handsome thing to admit—and by the way, I do feel awful

about that, really. I'd never done anything like that in my life. And I

think you're taking it amazingly well.'

A strange, slight smile split the hard quality of his features. She felt

something hit her in the region of her stomach and she stared,

obviously. The gleam of his white teeth showed against a naturally

dark complexion tanned to an even darker brown. He dragged a chair

around and relaxed into it, and she was struck anew at his long length

when he stretched out his legs, much like the earlier afternoon.

'Perhaps it's because I sympathise with you more than I should,' he

murmured, and she felt so jolted by that admission, she didn't know

what to say. There was a strange look invading his eyes, making them

cloudy. 'You feel threatened; it's understandable. Besides, as I said

before, if I'm that easy to dupe, then I deserve to be drugged. It'll

teach me a lesson.'

'Never to trust me again, I'll bet!' laughed Dee, her eyes crinkling at

him. She saw his widen briefly before his lids came down to hide

them. 'You know, I have to say I really admire your work. You've

done an excellent job hunting me down. It's nothing short of

incredible how you've managed to unravel my tangled trail.'

'I thank you,' he replied, with a jaunty inclination of his head. 'And I

should return the compliment by saying that I can't remember when

I've felt so challenged. Your brain must be very twisted to come up

with some of the stunts you pulled. That was very clever, hiding away

in the attic to wait for the uproar of your disappearance to go

elsewhere. The one place in the world where no one thought to look.

Well done, indeed!'

She felt a flicker of uneasiness lick at her mind again. This man was

so frighteningly, formidably alert—only one person in a thousand

could have guessed her ruse from that night. And she was pitting her

wits against him. She felt a sudden keen regret that fate had placed

her in opposition with him. She liked and admired him. 'How did you

know I'd camped in the attic?'

'Merely chance. After a few days of checking around the airports and

bus depots, I returned to the scene of departure and went over your

room inch by inch,' he explained, putting a lean fingered hand up to

rub at the back of his neck. 'When I idly pushed on the loose panel of

wood that lay across the hole, I realised I'd hit pay dirt. That was

when I finally began to realise what kind of intelligence I was up

against. Fresh breadcrumbs and a half used gallon jug of water gave

you away, I'm afraid.'

'I'd forgotten about that?' Dee shook her head at her own

forgetfulness. 'Well, it served its purpose at the time.' ..

'Served its purpose quite well, I should think,' retorted Mike, standing

to go over to the phone and picking up the phone book lying beside it.

'I'd been meaning to ask you—were you the smart aleck who called

the press and told them you were missing?'

She gurgled with laughter. 'Yes, I am. It was the only way I could

think of to handicap your movements. Did it work?'

'Infuriatingly. I swore several times that when I caught up with you,

I'd wring your pretty little neck! Would you like some pizza?' he

asked, running a neatly manicured finger down one side of the page

slowly.

'N-not really,' she murmured, feeling very full from her supper. 'I had

quite a bit to eat just a little while ago. I might manage a piece or two.

Are you hungry?'

'Starving,' he told her, 'famished, and otherwise ravenous. I haven't

eaten since early this afternoon, and for some inexplicable reason

seemed to lose my appetite at the truck stop.' His finger stopped for a

moment.

Dee felt just terrible as a pang of guilt shot through her. For the first

time she realised just how much she had upset this man's life,

dragging him all over the country and upsetting his schedule. Her jaw

and eyes hardened at that thought, and she got angry at herself for

getting too sympathetic with someone who was perfectly able to take

care of himself. He had taken the job. It wasn't her fault that he had

galloped all over the place, looking for her. And he probably was well

paid for it, too.

Mike glanced up just then and caught the hardened, bitter look on her

tired face, and his own expression changed. Putting down the phone

book, he crossed his arms in front of his wide chest and kicked one

leg over the other. 'You've just remembered, haven't you?' he

murmured. 'For a few hours you actually forgot that I'm the bad guy

in this situation.'

And suddenly the veneer was stripped away and she was seeing again

the purpose behind all the charm and pleasantness, and a feeling of

anger and, strangely, loss welled up inside her. Being lonely when

one is not alone is a frustrating emotion, and she experienced it as she

stared across the room at the man who was against her at every turn.

'Well?' she asked, flippant and not caring that she was. 'Aren't you?

Just along with all the others who never took the time to ask what

would make me happy, instead of telling me? Pardon me, mister, but

I don't think very highly of your methods!'

A brow cocked at that. He was angry. 'And you're the original "poor

little rich girl", is that it? The usual outcry of the teenager—nobody

understands me! Do you have any idea of the amount of worry and

care and trouble that you've brought to so many people? Do you even

care?'

It had been quite some time since she had thought of herself as an

adolescent, and the suspicion that he thought of her as such hurt

unbearably. She felt a wave of fury so deeply intense that she wasn't

sure she could control it, and she stood, her eyes blazing brilliantly in

her suddenly white face. They looked like jewels, liquid and

sparkling, and the man across the room watched her intently. For a

moment she wasn't sure if she was going to walk up to him and slap

his face hard or walk out of the room, and the struggle for control

seemed to take forever, though in actuality it was only a few

moments. She just looked at him, turned on her heel, and headed for

the bathroom.

Suddenly he was there, grabbing her shoulders and forcing her to turn

around, and this was heaping insult upon injury. Her eyes spat hatred

at him; how could she have considered him someone she could like

and respect? 'Running away seemed to be a habit with you!' he gritted

between his teeth. 'Perhaps it's because you don't want to grow up, is

that it? You can't stand it when things don't go your own way, can

you?'

She thought the top of her head would come off with the pressure of

trying to keep her temper in control, and she said slowly,

measuringly, bitingly, 'I am not, as you so eloquently put it, "running

away" from what you have to say. I merely think it's unimportant and

irrelevant to this topic of conversation.' She paused and drew in a

deep breath, and it sounded ragged even to her own ears. 'I know

more than you could just exactly the extent of worry I caused some

people, and frankly it leaves me unimpressed. I suggest that you keep

both your hands and your meaningless homilies to yourself until you

know the full situation and know just what the hell you're talking

about!' With her two hands stiffened, she swept his off her shoulders,

then left the room with dignity.

Mike stood a long time, just staring after her, in the middle of the

room after she had disappeared.

Dee sank down to the floor in the bathroom, her leg muscles

quivering weakly from reaction. She was appalled to think of the two

of them, apparently rational and calm-tempered people, just blowing

up at each other like they had. Granted, the last few days had been a

bit hectic, but that last tangle had not been at all what a hired private

investigator and a found runaway would normally have had. It was

more—personal than that. It shouldn't have been. They were in

opposition with each other on an issue that should be the sole point of

contention between them, and yet it was pushed to a level beyond

that. He had actually been angry, deeply, emotionally upset at

something just now, and she—well, she had felt somehow betrayed

by his reaction to a situation that he should not be personally involved

in. And the question that she asked herself was, why?

It was all too tangled for her to fathom. Life, nine months ago, had

been much more black and white, the good guys and the bad, the

prison and the escape. And now she was tired and she was lonely, and

she only wanted to live her life in peace. She never wanted to hear

Mike Carridine's name again. And this thought made her very upset,

because she knew it to be a He.

After a time she stirred and reached out a lethargic hand to turn on the

water taps for a bath. Steaming hot water gushed out and she stripped

eagerly. She was aching, and a soak in the tub would do her good. She

sank into the painfully warm wetness with many sighs and upstarts

from the heat. Then, as her body adjusted to the temperature, she

leaned back and closed her eyes. Some time later, she sudsed busily

and rinsed herself, and as she rose out of the tub, she realised that she

didn't have any clean clothes with her. She hated to get dressed just to

get her nightshirt, just to come back and change again, so she called

out, 'Mike? Mike?'

Footsteps sounded just outside the door and his voice wafted through