Fools Rush In (24 page)

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Authors: Ginna Gray

BOOK: Fools Rush In
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Damn! He hated feeling so helpless!

Chapter 13

Erin paced back and forth across the room. She paused by the balcony doors to check her watch and sighed. Max had been gone only twenty minutes, and already it seemed like hours.

Raking a hand through her short curls, she walked the length of the room again, mentally kicking herself for promising him she'd stay put while he checked around. "Why on earth did you let him talk you into it?" she demanded of her reflection when she passed the mirror.

The minute she voiced the impatient question her conscience pricked her. You know why. Because he loves you, and he's afraid for you.

Personally, she doubted that they had been followed this time. But she had seen genuine terror in Max's eyes this morning when he'd pleaded with her to stay out of sight. Lord knew, she hadn't wanted to, but all her arguments failed to reassure him. In the end, loving him as she did, she had given in.

After two more trips across the room Erin came to a halt beside the balcony doors and stared out at the picture-perfect scene below.

The small village, strung out along the base of Vail Mountain, gleamed, pristine and beautiful, in the brilliant sunshine. There was a definite Alpine flavor to Vail. Small plazas, fountains and sculpture abounded at various levels. Lining the narrow winding streets and alleyways were old-world-style half-timbered stucco buildings with rough-hewn beams and bay-windowed fronts that housed quaint shops, sidewalk cafes and Alpine lodges. Everywhere you looked were flowers—hanging baskets, landscaped beds, pots and planters filled with pansies, petunias, poppies and columbines.

From the balcony Erin could see the clock tower at the heart of the village, as well as the very top of the covered bridge over Gore Creek. Beyond, Vail Mountain's massive bulk loomed up against a vibrantly blue sky, its verdant slopes veined with ski runs that stood out as bright green swaths cut through the darker pines and aspens.

The only vehicles allowed within the village proper were the free shuttle buses and bicycles, and with mostly pedestrian traffic there was an air of tranquillity about the mountain town that was very appealing.

But its peace did not touch Erin.

Restless, she whirled away from the glass doors and made another circuit of the room. She stretched out on the bed, telling herself she would rest, but flounced off again a moment later. In desperation, she turned on the television and tried every channel, but nothing distracted her sufficiently and she snapped it off.

"If I don't do something, I'm going to go stark, staring mad," she snarled at the ceiling.

After a moment's consideration, Erin snatched up her purse and headed for the door. She would just pop down to the lobby and get a newspaper. That should keep her occupied for a while.

Erin had already pushed the button to summon the elevator when she remembered that she had not put on the wig. Frowning, she nibbled the end of her index finger and debated whether or not to go back for it, but before she could make up her mind the elevator doors opened. There were three other passengers inside. They looked at her expectantly, and when one young man said, "Well, are you going down or not?" she cast one last doubtful glance toward her room, shrugged and stepped inside.

It would take only a few seconds, she reasoned. The rack of newspapers was just a few feet from the elevator. She would step off, buy one and get right back on.

When the doors slid open Erin was the first one off, but three steps away she stopped as though she had hit a brick wall, every vestige of color draining from her face.

Across the lobby, not twenty feet away, Sam Lawford stood talking to the desk clerk.

For a moment Erin froze to the spot, her mind numb with shock. Then terror welled up inside her, and her heart began to pound so hard that she could barely breathe. She whirled around, but the elevator had already gone. She took a step toward the stairs, then realized she would be trapped if she went back to the room.

Panicked, she looked back over her shoulder. Sam was still at the front desk, but he would soon have the information he was seeking.

Oh, God, she had to get out of there! If he turned his head just a fraction, he would see her!

She looked around frantically. To go out the front she would have to pass right by him. No. No, she couldn't risk it. Keeping her eye on Sam, Erin sidled toward the terrace doors. Trying not to attract attention, she forced herself to move slowly at first, but halfway there panic overtook her and she broke into a run.

Erin snatched open the terrace door so forcefully that it slipped out of her hand and banged back against the wall. She moaned and kept going.

In warm weather the terrace was used as an outdoor restaurant. Erin darted past the startled hostess and cut a zig-zagging path through the tables. It occurred to her that there might be steps leading down to the street, but she did not take time to look for them. When she reached the edge of the terrace, she grasped the wrought-iron railing with both hands, vaulted over and landed hip-deep in a bed of columbine. Startled exclamations and murmurs arose from the diners behind her, but Erin hit the ground running. Hardly breaking stride, she tore through the flower bed, leaped into the street and sprinted away.

She ran full tilt, straining for all she was worth. She had to get away. She had to find Max. Oh, God! Where was Max?

At the corner she turned onto Bridge Street, but thick pedestrian traffic forced her to slow down. Nearly sobbing in frustration, Erin bumped and dodged and twisted, weaving in and out among the strolling tourists and bicycle-drawn rickshaws. Oh, please move. Move! she begged silently as she shoved her way through a clutch of people gathered around a sidewalk troubadour.

Every few seconds she darted frantic glances over her shoulder. There was no sign of Sam, but she didn't slacken her pace.

At the clock tower she turned right, raced through a wide pedestrian area for a short way, then veered off between two buildings and up a staired alleyway, taking the steps two at a time. Her lungs were on fire, and the muscles in her legs ached.

At the top, Erin found herself in a small plaza with a fountain at its center. Gasping for breath, she paused long enough to check the alley behind her. Two men were looking into the window of a small shop, and another had stopped to search in his pocket for something. At the bottom a woman and a little girl turned into the alley and started climbing the steps. None seemed in a hurry. More important, none was Sam.

Erin leaned against a building, took half a dozen deep breaths, then plunged across the plaza. The burst of adrenaline that had carried her that far was almost used up, and though she drove herself on, her steps began to lag.

Taking a wandering route around another cluster of buildings, Erin crossed a second plaza and stumbled down a short flight of steps that led to a rushing creek. Along its bank ran a row of shops and sidewalk cafes.

She was no longer running; it was all she could do to put one foot in front of the other. Her heart was pounding painfully, and her quivering legs would barely support her. She also had a painful stitch in her side. Erin glanced behind her, then headed for the nearest cafe. She had to rest.. .and think.

Even if Sam had given chase, she was fairly certain she had lost him. Just to be safe, though, she decided to go inside and take a seat where she could watch the entrance. Maybe she could get a table near the kitchen, so she could run out the back if she had to. She'd order something to drink and stay just long enough to get her second wind and decide what to do.

Before stepping inside the cafe, Erin took one last look over her shoulder, then nearly screamed when someone grasped both her arms just above the elbows.

"Why, Ms. Blaine. Where are you going in such a rush?"

Rendered senseless by terror, Erin stared, wild-eyed, at the man a full five seconds before she realized he was not Sam. Her relief was so great that her knees buckled.

"Here now! Easy does it," he exclaimed with a chuckle, tightening his grip as she began to sag. "Why, you're as white as a snowbank." Her chest was still heaving, and perspiration-darkened curls clung to her face and neck. Inspecting her, the man frowned and shook his head. "Don't you know it's not wise to exert yourself at this altitude until you've had time to get acclimatized? Two days just isn't long enough. Here, let's sit down."

Two days? Erin blinked in confusion as the man led her to one of the sidewalk tables.

When they were seated he poured a glass of water from the pitcher on the table and handed it to her. "Here now, Ms. Blaine, you just relax and sip this, and when the waitress comes we'll order you a soft drink. You'll feel better in no time."

It hit her then that that was the second time he'd used her name. Sipping the water, she studied him over the rim of the glass. He was tall, in his mid-forties, with a hawkish face that would be difficult to forget, but Erin was certain she'd never met him before in her life. Yet he knew her name.

"By the way, I apologize again about the problem with your family's cabin," the man added. "If I had known in advance that you were coming, I wouldn't have rented it, of course. But I've removed it from the listing, so when the Morrisons leave tomorrow I'll bring you the key and you can stay as long as you like."

Erin's heart gave a little leap as, suddenly, it all clicked into place. Elise had talked to this man! And she had used her maiden name! Leaning forward, she grasped his arm. "You're the agent who handles our cabin?"

"Yes. Yes, of course I am," he said, clearly startled. "We met on Thursday when you came by my office to pick up the key. Are you feeling all right?"

"Look, Mr....?"

"Ledbetter. John Ledbetter."

"Mr. Ledbetter, the person you talked to wasn't me. That was my twin sister. I came here expecting to find her at the cabin. I've been worried sick, not knowing where she was."

"Ah, now I understand," he said, looking vastly relieved.

"I take it you know where Elise is staying?"

"Why, yes. I rented her another cabin for a few days until yours is vacant. The next one up the road, actually. I'll take you there, if you'd like."

"Oh, would you? that would be..." She stopped, her expression uncertain. Max. She needed to find him and let him know. About Sam and Elise. But how? She hadn't the slightest idea where he was, and she couldn't go back to the hotel. All she could do for Max, she realized with a sick sensation in the pit of her stomach, was pray that he somehow managed to elude his partner.

But she could find her sister.

She gave Mr. Ledbetter a determined smile. "That would be wonderful. Thank you." Standing, she hitched her purse strap onto her shoulder. "I'm ready to go whenever you are."


In his excitement, Max fumbled with the room key, cursing under his breath. When the lock finally clicked, he pushed the door open and quickly stepped inside. "Erin! Sweetheart, I found where Elise is stay—"

He halted, his face registered shock, then fury.

"You!"

"Hello, Max." Sam stood up, his rangy frame unfolding from the chair with that peculiar grace of a big man.

"What the hell have you done with Erin?"

Sam's brows rose a fraction. At the same time another man stepped out of the bathroom. Max swung to face him and found himself staring down the barrel of a gun.

The man smiled, but his eyes were deadly. "Funny. I was about to ask you the same thing, Delany."

It took a second, but when his meaning sank in, relief poured through Max. They hadn't found her. Somehow, Erin had gotten away. A sardonic smile tipped up one corner of his mouth. "Now, if I knew where she was, you don't seriously think I'd tell you, do you?"

"I would if I were you, Max," Sam advised matter-of-factly. "This is David Blaine. Erin and Elise's brother."

Max turned on his partner with a murderous look. "When I want your opinion I'll—" The furious words halted in mid-spate, and his head swung back toward the man with the gun. "You're the brother?"

"That's right."

Max subjected him to an intense, narrow-eyed scrutiny. His brown hair held only a hint of red, but the eyes were the same. Yes, despite his lean, mean, slightly battered look, there was definitely a family resemblance, Max decided. Especially around the mouth. And there was that same stubborn chin. He judged him to be around thirty-six, which would be about right.

David withdrew a wallet from his pocket and flipped it open. "Here's my driver's license. And there's a social security card in there somewhere, if you're still in doubt."

"No, I believe you. but what the hell are you doing here with him?" Max demanded, hooking his thumb toward Sam.

His eyes narrowing, David looked from Max to Sam and back. "You have a problem with that?"

"What's the matter with you, Max?" Sam demanded, and for once his voice was tinged with anger. "I'm here because I'm your friend. I've been worried sick, wondering what happened to you. Why the hell did you stop calling?"

"Because I didn't want those two goons on our tail again, that's why. Hell, Sam, I may be gullible, but I'm not stupid. How long did you think it would take before I realized that every time I called you, they showed up?"

For an unguarded moment Sam looked stunned; then every trace of emotion vanished, and his face took on that set, distant look. "Are you saying you think I sent them after you?"

"Oh, c'mon, Sam!" Max gestured impatiently, his expression disgusted. "What else could I think? I called you from Albuquerque and told you Elise was in trouble and I was flying to San Francisco to intercept a bus, and two guys show up at the terminal and shoot at Erin and me. Then, like a fool, I called and filled you in on everything and told you our plans, and the next morning when we left Bakers-field, lo and behold, the same two appear out of nowhere. Only this time they were just following us. Someone had obviously told them Erin was the wrong sister. You were the only one who knew that, or where to find us."

"I had nothing to do with it," Sam said stonily.

"Did you tell anyone else where Max was or what was going on?" David asked.

"I may have after the first call. Several people did ask where he was," Sam replied after giving it some thought. "That was before I knew how serious the situation was. But after the shooting? No. No, I didn't say a word to anyone."

"Then there is no way anyone else could have known about Erin or that we were in Bakersfield," Max said, his voice rough with bitterness.

"Unless," David offered, "someone tapped Sam's phone."

The comment drew sharp looks from the other two. "Or..." Sam began.

"...someone could have simply listened in." As he completed the thought, Max's gaze sought Sam's, his eyes filled with regret and contrition. "God, Sam, I'm sorry. That possibility never occurred to me."

Sam waved aside the apology. "Don't worry about it. It didn't occur to me, either, and in your place I probably would have reacted the same way.''

Helplessly, remorse, regret and a dozen other painful emotions gnawing at him, Max watched the shutters come down, watched his friend retreat still further behind that icy wall. Though Sam dismissed the misunderstanding with that maddening imperturbable stoicism, Max knew his friend was far from unaffected. His own lack of faith was another in a long series of low blows against this man who'd had far more than his share. And the hell of it was there was nothing Max could say or do to change it.

David holstered his gun, faced Max and planted his hands on his hips. "Now that we've got that settled, where the hell is Erin?"

"I don't know." Max raked a hand through his hair. Fear welled up anew as several horrifying possibilities occurred to him, shoving aside, for the moment, his concern over Sam. "Dammit! She wasn't supposed to budge from this room. She knows it's not safe for her to be running around."

David gave a snort of mirthless laughter. "That's never stopped her before. Even scared stiff she'd never be short on bravado," he said with mingled pride and exasperation.

"Or sheer raw courage," Max added. His tone stated plainly that he would stand for no criticism of Erin, not even from a brother.

Faint surprise flickered across David's face. Narrowing his eyes, he fixed Max with a flinty look. It met a blue stare as unyielding as stone. The air vibrated with challenge as the two men appraised each other in silence. On the sidelines, Sam watched the exchange with interest, an atypical smile twitching about his stern mouth.

"So that's the way it is," David finally murmured.

"That's right. Any objections?"

"I'm not sure. Check with me later. After we've found my sisters."

"If you two are through bristling at each other, I suggest we get on with it," Sam commented, and both Max and David had the grace to look sheepish.

David walked to the dresser and picked up the brown wig, fingering the silky strands with a musing smile. "Sam and I went to the cabin last night when we arrived, and there's a family there by the name of Morrison. According to them, no one fitting Erin or Elise's description had been by, just a tall dark man and a woman with long brown hair. The description threw me at first." He tossed the wig back onto the dresser, his expression darkening once again. "Obviously Erin was mistaken about Elise's being here."

"No, she wasn't!" Max's earlier excitement returned in a flash as he remembered what had brought him back to the room. "I don't know where Erin is, but I did discover where Eliseis staying."

"All right! What are we waiting for?" David said, striding for the door. "Let's go."

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