If Stephen Douglas had realized he’d be driving down the back streets of a seedy Los Angeles neighborhood, he wouldn’t have rented a red Cadillac convertible. Instinct told him he should put the top up, but it was easier to see the house numbers in the fading September light with it down.
He pulled out the post-it note he’d written the directions on and reread the address. Damn, he had to be close. For the third time, he made a right-hand turn to circle the two block area when a medley of rapid-fire cracks split the air. They were followed by a cacophony of men shouting and more shots now recognizable as gunfire.
Shit.
He pushed the lever to fold the top over him. It was halfway closed when a body literally flew into the back seat. He hit the brakes at the same time a husky voice yelled, “Keep moving. Stop the car and you’re dead.”
For emphasis, a hard object jammed his ribcage between the bucket seats with enough force to make him wince. He had no reason to believe it wasn’t a gun. The top closed into place and he moved his foot back to the accelerator.
“What do you want?” Stephen asked the hunkering figure behind him.
“Just drive a few blocks and I’ll get out. Stop now and we’re both dead.”
That’s when Stephen realized the voice came from a female. What the hell. She was no less threatening than a man, however, not with the weapon biting a dent in his side.
“Make a right turn at the light. Don’t speed and don’t make any noticeable moves. Drive normal.”
“It’s tough to drive normally with a gun puncturing my ribs,” Stephen said.
A sound that might have been laughter came from the back seat. “Better than bullets, which we’ll both get if we’re caught.”
Stephen made the right turn and continued straight for another two blocks. He pulled to the side as two police cars, sirens wailing, passed him from the front. At the same time, he heard more gunshots, muffled by distance now.
“How far do you want me to drive?”
“A couple of miles. Make a left at the next light.”
“Since I’m obviously cooperating, would you mind getting the stick out of my ribs?”
He couldn’t believe it when she actually chuckled. She pulled the weapon back just enough to let him know it was still there.
“Who’s after you,” he asked. “Good guys or bad guys?”
This time she full-out laughed. “You’re certainly curious for a man with a gun on him.”
Stephen glanced in the rearview mirror, hoping to get a glimpse of her, but she was plastered to the floorboards. “In situations like this, I like to know who I’m dealing with.”
“You’re an idiot,” she said. “What the hell were you doing driving a forty-thousand-dollar car around this neighborhood with the top down?”
“Maybe I was looking for a hooker.”
She made a noise of derision. “And here I thought you were a priest coming to save me from the fires of hell.”
He’d already driven the two miles she asked him to. “Don’t you have a car or something where I can drop you?”
“Only if you have a death wish.”
“Then it is the bad guys after you?”
“I wouldn’t bet my life on that if I were you,” she said.
“Exactly what would you do if you were me?”
That made her pause. He made another turn, a left this time.
“That should be far enough,” she said. “You can stop and I’ll get out now.”
He couldn’t let her go without knowing who she was. “What will you do then?”
“Why do you care?”
“Maybe my life is in the crapper and I need something to care about. Do you need any money?”
“You’re shittin’ me, right?”
This time it was Stephen’s turn to pause. He took a moment to consider what he was getting himself into. He had a thousand dollars in cash on him. Driving a Cadillac convertible, she might have anticipated he had money on him, but all she asked for was a ride out of the danger zone. She couldn’t go back to her car, so she’d be stranded. He wasn’t sure why he should care, or trust her, for that matter.
The voice behind him interrupted his thoughts. “I’m not a hooker, if that’s what you really were looking for. You do seem squirrelly enough to come to a neighborhood like this, in a rich boy’s car, looking for a two-bit tramp to get your rocks off. If you are, watch yourself, because if I was a cop, I could arrest you.”
“And what if I was the cop?”
She made another snorting sound. “Cops don’t drive Cadillac’s—unless they’re crooked.”
“Know a lot of cops, do you?” He made another turn, wending away from the place he’d picked her up. When she didn’t answer, he prodded her. “What’s your name?”
“Why?”
“So if they mention names on the evening news, I’ll know which one is you.”
She swore, using words he’d only heard in back-alley barrooms.
“Does that mean you’ll be on the ten o-clock news?” he asked.
“Life’s a bitch and then you die,” she muttered, pulling the gun out of his ribcage.
Stephen smiled to himself. “So…who will they say you are?”
“Dani,” was all she said.
Hot damn and bingo. Danielle Lovato. How lucky could a man get?
Stifling a grin, he pushed his hand back between the bucket seats. “Hello, you can call me Stephen.”
Danielle slapped his hand. “Four million people in this city, and I abduct a lunatic. You think you’re my guardian angel or what?”
“Sounds like you’re in need of one,” he said.
“Stop the car and I’ll get out.”
“I want to help you. Why are you fighting me?”
“Because I’m getting bad vibes. Are you part of Deluca’s gang?”
“I have no idea who Deluca is. I’m not even from LA. Besides, you have the gun.”
Danielle considered that. She did have the gun. “Why do you want to help me?”
“Do I need a reason?”
“In my world, nobody does anything for nothing. What’s your game, Stephen?”
“All I’m offering you is a place to get cleaned up and distance from whatever trouble you’re in.”
Danielle hesitated, trying to decide if he was for real. “And what do you get out of it?” she asked.
“The feeling that maybe I did someone a good deed.”
She snorted. “Oh, yeah, I believe that all right.” She pushed herself up on the seat, staying far enough to the side so he couldn’t see her in the rearview mirror. She looked around, trying to determine if they were being followed. She saw no cars closer than a block.
“Well, you must. You took the gun off of me.”
“It’s pointed straight at your back, so unless your fancy seats are lined with metal, consider it still on you. What were you doing in that part of town anyway?”
“A personal favor for a friend.”
Danielle swore. “Halleluiah, St. Stephen. You are so full of crap.”
He had a deep husky laugh. It actually made her smile. It had been a long time since she smiled.
“So… St. Stephen. Where are we headed?”
“My place.”
“Bad idea. If we’re being followed, you’d be up to your neck in more trouble than you want.”
“We’re not. I’ve been watching.”
This guy was starting to worry her. She reached for the door handle, intending to bolt at the next light. She heard the door lock slide in place and knew he must have anticipated her move.
She leaned over to glare at him in the mirror. “What was that for?”
Pale gray verging on blue eyes stared back at her. She could tell by the crinkling around them that he was grinning.
“We’re only a couple of blocks from my motel,” he said. “You can run then if you want to. At least there’s a bus stop out front.”
“Motel? You’re in a motel.”
“I told you I’m from out of town. I’m here on—business.”
“Where are you from? The loony bin?”
“Minnesota.”
She rolled her eyes. “Well that should explain it. Except your car has a California license plate.”
“It’s rented.”
“Just don’t tell me you’re a psychiatrist.”
That husky laugh again. “I’m not. I’m a lawyer.”
He drove to a Holiday Inn and pulled up in front of room number one-twenty.
“Is this your room?” she asked.
“No, I’m on the upper floor right above it.”
“Don’t park here,” she said. “Go around to the back.”
“Why?”
“Just do it! This damn car sticks out like a full blooming rose in a potato patch, and if anyone saw me get in it, they could be on top of us before you turn the lock on your door. I see no reason to make it easy for them.”
“Who are these people?”
“It’s a long story.”
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