“A good friend, if he didn’t ask you any questions.”
“Yes, a good friend. We met about four years ago at a law-enforcement conference in Chicago. At that time I was with the U.S. Attorney’s office. Savich is into karate, big time, does an exhibition now and again. He got married about six months ago to another agent named Sherlock. Keep further back, Molly.”
“Oh no.”
The truck was slowing. The man in the passenger seat was looking back. “They’ve gone far enough to know we’re not there ahead of them. Slow down more, Molly. Yeah, let that Chevy get ahead of you. Good.”
He pressed Emma against him. “I don’t want them catching sight of you, kiddo. Keep down.”
“They’re pulling out, Ramsey,” Molly said.
He wanted to follow. So did Molly, probably. But they couldn’t, not with Emma such an open target.
“It won’t matter,” Ramsey said. “Once we know who owns the truck, we’ll have what we need. We don’t have to do everything.”
“I don’t know about that,” she said, her voice all rough and low. Then she smiled at Emma and said, “Sure thing,” and slowed down even more.
“They’re hanging on the side, just the way we did.” He weighed the options. “Drive like a bat out of hell, Molly. In a couple of exits, we’re out of here.”
She didn’t hesitate for an instant. She floored the gas pedal. The Jeep hit ninety miles an hour quickly. They sped by two exits, Molly weaving in and out like a pro, then she slowed and swung off at the third exit onto a high arcing road that flattened finally, headed due south.
“Good going. Just keep driving, then pull over about a mile toward-what’s the name of the town in this direction?”
“Paulson, according to the sign we just passed.”
“Yeah, it’s about three miles to Paulson. Let’s go nearly to the town, then take a side road. We’ll just sit there for a while. I’ll bet everyone’s thirsty. We’ll have to buy a bottle of water.”
“I have to go to the bathroom,” Emma said.
“I do, too,” Ramsey said, hugging her. “Hold it just three more minutes, Em.”
The cell phone trilled a soft high whine.
“Savich?”
“Yes. Since you didn’t have a clean set, we have three possibilities.”
“Okay. I’ve got a pen and paper.” Molly watched him pull a pad from the glove compartment and write down names and addresses. She heard him say, “Thanks, Savich. I owe you big time.” There was a long pause, then, “I’ll tell you everything when I can, but not just yet. Say hello to Sherlock for me.”
He shut down the phone.
“It appears that we’ve lost those guys from the restaurant. I still think we should call the cops, Molly.”
“No, not yet. Please, not yet.”
He sighed deeply. The last thing he wanted was for her to try to take Emma and go off on her own. He had a strong feeling she’d do just that if he didn’t play by her rules. It wasn’t just that she didn’t trust the police. It was something more, something she hadn’t told him. “Well, hell,” he said, “let’s go to Aspen and stay at the Jerome. I’ll take you guys to the Cantina for a good Mexican meal.”
Molly pulled off the road a minute later. She took Emma to the cover of some bushes. Molly met his eyes over a tangle of blackberries. He had eyes nearly as black as his hair, thick hair a bit on the long side since he’d been away from civilization for three weeks. He had a strong face, high cheekbones, an olive complexion. She wondered if he didn’t have some Italian blood lurking somewhere. He also had the beginnings of a five-o’clock shadow. Actually, now that she was really looking at him for the first time, she realized he was handsome, not drop-dead handsome like a film star, but handsome in a way that was calm and strong, a handsome that you could trust. She owed him the rest of the truth, but not just yet.
She thought, as she helped Emma with her clothes, that it felt rather strange not to be alone anymore. She’d known him for less than one day. It seemed longer, but the fact was that she didn’t really know him at all. She knew his reputation, but not the man. He’d saved Emma. That was really the beginning and the end of it. He’d have her gratitude forever.