Slow Dancing With a Texan
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Suzy. My goodness, what had happened to her?
“Please,” she yelled over the roar of the engine and the screech of tires. “The others…we have to make sure they’re okay. Turn around.”
“The HPD are there by now,” he muttered without looking in her direction. “And probably the paramedics. I heard the sirens. They can handle them a lot better than we can.” He dragged at the wheel again and the truck slid around a corner.
Whoa! Her questions would have to wait, as the ride got rougher and she had to fight to maintain her balance. Lainie moved her arm to get a better hold on the seat as the truck rocketed into a left turn. She gasped when she caught a glimpse of her own bloodstained sleeve.
The lawman’s head jerked around at the sound. “Where are you injured?” He’d obviously spotted the blood, too.
“I…I don’t know. I…don’t think I am.” She wasn’t sure. Trying to concentrate on both her body and her balance, she’d discovered that her arms and legs were definitely cramped by being shoved under the dashboard. But the rest of her mostly just felt numb.
“The van’s side windows are blacked out but I think I can see at least three of them through the front,” he yelled, not waiting for the rest of her answer. “I’m going to lose them. Another block and we’ll hit the freeway on-ramp. Can you stay put until then, Lainie?”
She didn’t think she had much choice, so she nodded her head. He’d called her Lainie. It gave her a solid, calming feeling to hear him say her name. She realized that anyone might know who she was from reading her daily column. But still, this man’s very presence said he was a lawman—her very own Texas Ranger bodyguard.
“You’re Sloan Abbott, aren’t you?”
He nodded his answer but didn’t take the time to speak. The truck tires squealed in protest as he made one more fast right turn. She was sincerely relieved she hadn’t been able to see that maneuver.
The truck accelerated as she felt it travel up a hill. They’d apparently hit a freeway on-ramp, but she couldn’t be sure which one. The newspaper’s office was located within a few minutes of a half-dozen different interstates near downtown Houston. But since she couldn’t see out the windows, she had no idea of where they were.
Sloan suddenly reached his long arm over and grabbed her by the front of her sweater, pulling her up and onto the seat. “Buckle up, Ms. Gardner.”
Lainie yelped in protest at being so roughly buffeted, but she turned around and did exactly what she’d been told. After buckling her seat belt, she hung on to the door handle with one hand while bracing herself against the seat with the other. The scenery whizzed by in a blur.
She wasn’t sure she could catch her breath, and silently begged him to stop this madness and pull over. When he did, she owed him a piece of her mind. His driving was scarier than whoever was chasing them.
He whirled his truck past a few speeding cars as if they were standing still, whipping in and out of all three lanes. Lainie checked him out with a speculative glance.
His jaw was set, his dark eyes concentrated on the road. But even in profile, she could see he was easy to look at. If it had been any other time, she’d be interested in getting to know a man who looked as good as this one. With a hard but handsome face, he looked strong and slightly dangerous. Just the way a lawman should. The thought gave her a little thrill, but this wasn’t the time for that, either.
She watched him check the rearview mirror again, and automatically shot a glance behind her through the back window. Sure enough, a plain black van was keeping up with them, just a few cars back.
Yikes! Was this whole thing really connected to the nasty letters she’d been receiving? Lainie had thought they were just a joke—one in very bad taste to be sure, but not terribly scary.
The Houston Police Department hadn’t thought this stalker business was very serious, either. Because, although they’d taken statements from Lainie, her staff and family, the police told her there wasn’t too much they could do unless the writer made an overt move to harm someone. That practical stance had seemed reasonable at the time.
But all this shooting and chasing was certainly overt enough for her now. Silently she thanked heaven for her mother’s old friend, Chet Johnson. At least he’d taken the threat seriously enough to insist on finding a man to be her bodyguard in his off-duty hours.
The idea of a bodyguard had initially seemed silly. She didn’t have time or the patience for such nonsense. In fact, she’d been surprised that her mother made such a big deal over something she’d considered so unimportant.
Maybe Lainie would consider apologizing to her mom now. But it still seemed a little overboard.
“Pros,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Hang on. We’re about to shake them loose.”
He put his foot on the gas and sped out of the left lane, making the next exit ramp on two wheels and with no room to spare. Without bothering to stop for the light at the bottom of the ramp, he made two quick left turns and headed up the on-ramp going in the opposite direction.
Positive they must’ve lost the van with that move, Lainie caught her breath. Looking into the setting sun, she realized for the first time that they’d been heading east toward Louisiana. And now they were headed…where? Back to the city?
“Where are we going?” she croaked past a dry mouth.
Ignoring her question, he reached inside his jacket and pulled out a mobile phone. He punched in one number, then threw her a narrowed look as he spoke.
She overheard him making some reference to her and the Houston police, and guessed that he was speaking to his boss, Captain Johnson. Lainie was desperate to speak to Chet, too.
“Right. Code twenty-seven. Got it,” he said into the phone. Then he flipped it shut and stashed it.
“Wait! I wanted to talk to him.” She swiveled in her seat and glared at the side of Sloan’s head.
“Sorry.” He didn’t turn but continued to pay attention to the road ahead. “The captain said the Houston police want to talk to us, but they’re going to have to wait until tomorrow. It’s too risky for you to show up at one of the substations right now. Too obvious.”
“But you didn’t ask about my sister. I have to know what happened to her…to everyone.” Lainie was unaccustomed to being out of control.