Tall, Dark And Wanted. Morgan Hayes

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СКАЧАТЬ hard-packed snow, while others struck deeper in the forest where the road curved to the left.

      “Go, Mitch!” Molly shouted between bursts of gunfire. “Drive!”

      But he hardly needed motivation. There was the unmistakable whack of one bullet striking what had to be the Blazer’s steel bumper. And then another. And another.

      Before he’d even slammed the door, he’d jammed the car into first gear and his foot was on the gas. The wide tires spun, throwing snow and gravel up against the vehicle’s underbelly, until they found purchase.

      Molly looked at the passenger-side mirror. In the flickering illumination of the fire, she saw the two figures. Their pursuit by foot was no match for the accelerating vehicle, and when Mitch steered into the curve, Molly could no longer see them.

      In the dim glow of the dash lights there was no mistaking the tension in Mitch’s face. Molly had heard about his valiant attempt to escape Sabatini and his men that night ten months ago—the high-speed chase to the expressway and the violent tactics used by the pursuing men to force him off the road. She’d seen the police photos of the wrecked sports car and remembered wondering how anyone could have survived in it.

      As she watched Mitch’s knuckles whiten around the Blazer’s steering wheel, she could only imagine the kind of fear he was reliving now. He didn’t check the rearview, but concentrated on the road as the gunfire from behind continued.

      Ahead, just past the curve, Molly spotted the thugs’ SUV at the shoulder. Exhaust curled up from the idling vehicle, caught in the glow of the rear lights.

      “Stop,” Molly ordered as they neared it.

      “What? Are you insane? They’re—”

      “Stop,” she said again.

      “Molly, they’re right behind us.” Amplifying his concern, another burst of gunfire erupted around them.

      “Just stop!”

      She heard him curse as she started to open the door, and—with no choice—Mitch brought the Blazer to a skidding halt. She was out of the car in a flash. Icy wind blasted against her. With freezing fingers, she tightened her grip on her gun while she grappled at the door handle of the other vehicle.

      She had no idea if there was a third man behind the tinted windows of the four-by-four. She could only pray.

      Flinging open the door on the driver’s side, Molly brought her other hand up to her gun, prepared to fire. But there was no one inside. As another rain of bullets pierced the air, Molly reached across the driver’s seat and turned the key. The heavy engine shuddered and died, and in the same second she tore the key from the ignition. Mitch shouted something then, but over the gunfire there was no making out the words.

      Behind them she thought she could just discern the two figures running up the middle of the road.

      “Molly! Let’s get the hell out of here!”

      This time she heard Mitch. She turned, reaching for the Blazer’s door handle, but not before hurling the keys to her right, deep into the forest and the snow. She’d barely landed in the passenger seat when Mitch gunned the engine and they sped away.

      MITCH HAD TO TAKE the roundabout way back to Barb’s house in order to avoid Sabatini’s thugs. It entailed a good twenty minutes of driving, the buffeting wind and snow making the going even slower. And although there wasn’t any sign of headlights in the rearview mirror, Mitch’s heart rate didn’t slow one bit. Even after he closed the garage door, his pulse raced and the adrenaline continued to lick through him.

      The snow was coming down thicker as he and Molly made their way to the house. He tried to take comfort from that. If Sabatini’s men did have a second set of car keys, the tracks left by the Blazer would be covered in a matter of minutes. They’d have to search the entire community along Bass Lake, and that was providing they even knew Mitch was here.

      Still, Molly didn’t seem willing to take a chance. Before he’d closed the front door behind them, she kicked off her boots in the foyer and started to move through the house, turning off lights. She hadn’t said more than a dozen words during the drive back. Then again, he hadn’t been any conversationalist himself. He’d been practically speechless, thinking about what he’d just witnessed, amazed and shocked at the extreme courage Molly had displayed tonight. It was a side of her he’d never seen, even though he should have expected it from her.

      Molly had always been somewhat fearless. Bold and spirited. Always prepared to do battle for whatever person or cause needed defending. He hadn’t been at all surprised to learn about the bronze star she’d received from the police department. It had been four…no, five years ago, when she and her patrol partner had single-handedly saved the life of a convenience store owner during an armed robbery while they’d been off duty.

      But seeing Molly tonight, atop the snowbank, firing one round after the next, and then racing out into the spray of bullets to steal the thugs’ car keys…

      It was like a movie, Mitch thought. Only the bullets had been real.

      Very real.

      He shuddered now at the thought of how the night could have taken a very different turn. No, he shouldn’t consider how close they’d both come to being killed tonight. Mitch focused his attention instead on the fire in the hearth. He stirred the ambers with a poker and was just reaching for a fresh log when Molly stopped him.

      “Leave it,” she instructed. “Let it die. Turn up the furnace if you need to, but if they do come looking for us tonight, we want the house to look empty.”

      “You think they will?”

      “Maybe not tonight. I’m guessing they didn’t have a spare set of keys. But I’m sure they’ll be rolling before long. Let’s hope they wait till morning to start searching.”

      Mitch turned from the fireplace. Molly stood in the middle of the living room, facing him. And for a moment, illuminated by the warm glow from the hearth behind him, she looked nineteen again. It was one of the images that Mitch had carried in his mind all these years…of her standing in the middle of her bedroom with the light of a dozen candles dancing across her face.

      Molly stared back at him, and he wondered what memory, if any, she was conjuring up herself.

      “I, uh, I need to use your washroom,” she said at last, obviously feeling awkward at the sudden silence.

      “It’s upstairs. To the left.”

      He watched as she tossed down her scarf and lifted her anorak over her head. It wasn’t until then that Mitch saw the blood. There was only a hint of it on the dark-colored anorak, but beneath it, and the green fleece under that, the startling crimson stain had spread across the snug-fitting thermal top.

      “Jesus, Molly, you’re bleeding!”

      “I know.” Her tone sounded so matter-of-fact. However, Mitch thought he detected a slight waver in it.

      In a second he’d crossed the room. Before she was able to cast aside her jacket and fleece, Mitch was gently tugging the top from the waist of her jeans. It was soaked, as was the heavy denim. He thought he heard her quick intake of breath and sensed her body stiffen as he lifted the top farther. The hearth provided enough СКАЧАТЬ