Defending the Eyewitness. Rachel Lee

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      Chapter 2

      Austin awoke in the morning considerably refreshed, knowing instantly where he was. He’d acquired that talent during his years as an agent. It was dangerous not to know exactly where you were and exactly what was around you, even when you slept. You never knew what you might wake up to.

      He needed to rearrange the room a bit, but even as he sat up with the thought, he realized that would be overkill. He was in a safe little town in Wyoming, as far as he could be from anyone who might want to come after him...and no one should. They never knew his real name, he’d been whisked out of that damn Mexican prison so fast that the most his old compadres could believe was that he had been moved to another prison. Even if they suspected, they’d have no way of tracing him. Besides, by now, the rumor was probably running through the grapevine that he was dead. Killed in an escape attempt, maybe. That was the usual cover story when someone didn’t survive manhandling by the Federales.

      So it was needless to think of having another way out of here besides the stairs. He didn’t have to live like that anymore. He repeated the mantra to himself several times. It was over. He didn’t need to live like that anymore.

      It should have been reassuring. Comforting. Something. Anything except make him feel utterly at loose ends.

      He rose and headed for the bathroom, where he erased the beard he’d worn religiously for six years. Sometimes he’d let it become scruffy, sometimes he’d neatly trimmed it, but it had been like a mask, concealing his real features just enough. He didn’t need concealment anymore, but by the time he got done, he looked at his unfamiliar reflection and could have laughed. The skin beneath the beard hadn’t tanned along with the rest of him, and the paleness almost glowed. His skin had a natural olive tone, but right then, in comparison, it didn’t look like it. He wondered how long it would take to catch up so he didn’t look like a clown.

      It was time, he decided, to get the lay of the land around here and figure out what kind of clothes he’d need to fit in. If it didn’t involve a necktie, he’d be happy.

      He heard a church bell ringing as he descended the stairs and realized it was Sunday. Hell, what did that mean for shopping around here?

      He smelled coffee at the foot of the stairs and hesitated. Maybe he should just keep going and get breakfast somewhere.

      But then he heard Corey. “I’m in here, Austin. Coffee’s fresh.”

      Well, that drew him. He found her sitting at the kitchen table, newspaper in hands, a pair of reading glasses perched on the end of her nose.

      “Help yourself,” she said pleasantly. “There’s cereal in the cupboard, if you like.”

      “I need to go shopping,” he remarked. After the way she had looked at him yesterday, he wondered why she was being so friendly. At first sight, he’d been sure she wanted to send him packing.

      She must have looked up as he went to get a mug, because he heard her say, “Oh, my gosh...”

      He turned to look at her and she had clapped her hand over her mouth. Her blue eyes seemed to dance. For the first time, he allowed himself to notice what a pretty woman she was. Sort of like a Viking princess, maybe, with her long blond hair, milky skin and brilliant blue eyes. Even a nice figure, as he recalled, although it was invisible now in layers of thick blue terry cloth that seemed to cover a long flannel nightgown. He usually went for darker women, but this one was getting his attention. In the wrong way, considering.

      He touched his cheek. “Beard?”

      “You can’t exactly call that a shadow.” A laugh trembled in her voice.

      “I know. I was thinking I looked like a painted СКАЧАТЬ