Doranna Durgin - Survival Instinct

He should start with an apology. Whatever his intentions, he’d walked into the middle of a fugitive’s cover situation and stomped it all to hell. But they already somehow seemed past that.

Or maybe just not ready to talk about it.

So when he finally cleared his throat and spoke, his rough-edged voice came out with, “How?”

She didn’t turn around. “How, what?”

“You said you could help.”

“That depends, really.” Her voice might have been a little huskier than normal; hard to tell. She was no longer offering him any of those glimpses of the Ellen Sommers he’d known.

Dave pushed off to his feet, uncrossing his legs along the way. “Depends on…what? You have conditions?”

She glanced back at him. “No. This is something I want to do, for my own reasons.”

“What, then?” An anxious twinge surprised him. Three days gone, and no closer to finding the boy he sought. Not even a clue. Being convinced Longsford was behind the kidnapping was one thing, and finding the boy was another.

She turned to face him then. “Whether I help depends on you. On if you can bring yourself to do things my way.”

“I don’t-”

“Look, the law’s not getting anywhere. Your feebies aren’t getting anywhere. You’re all constrained by legal niceties. What you need is a way to slip up on Longsford from the other side.”

“You?” His voice may have been skeptical, but something in him already believed.

She dropped her head ever so slightly. It emphasized the size of her eyes, the way she could use them to say whatever she wanted to say, entirely without words. Yes. Of course me. Out loud, she finally said, “If Longsford’s as greedy as you painted him, I can rope him in with a layered long con. It’ll get me close. Once I’m in…” She shrugged. “I know what to look for. I’ll find Longsford’s little hidey-hole.”

“It takes a thief,” Dave said flatly, unable to lighten his tone.

“No. It takes Longsford’s greed and power thirst. Without that, I’d have nothing to exploit.”

“You want to what-make him an offer an e-mail scammer couldn’t refuse?” That was insulting, and he knew it.

She didn’t pretend it wasn’t. Her expression turned derisive-and then hard. “Whatever it takes,” she said, and looked away, back out over the farm. “It seems Rumsey taught me well after all.”

Dave thought to say no, that much was obvious to Karin. He didn’t want any part of her scheming.

She reminded him that he’d offered her the safe house. That she had to leave this little farm in any event. That he had time to think about it. If it occurred to him that he’d be making this decision while in the company of a woman who knew exactly how to get what she wanted, it didn’t show.

And so they left the farm to Amy Lynn and Karin kissed Dewey goodbye and told him to watch the property, and they drove off toward Alexandria.

Karin Sommers’s Journal on the Road, March 16

I’m getting used to the car. From the farm to the big city…lotta hours. And then there’s Perfectly Gloomy Gus, my travel companion. He thinks he’s gonna dump me in his brother’s safe house and rush on with his investigation. He thinks he’s going to sift through the same old information and find a new trail somehow. Yeah, right.

He needs the angles I can work. And dammit, doesn’t it seem only fair that Rumsey’s teachings might actually do someone some good? Wouldn’t he just be disgusted?

Perfectly Gloomy Gus has his knickers tied in a knot because of what happened between us. He forgets himself, responds to our us-ness, and then clams up tighter than a righteous virgin.

Poor guy. Mr. Straight-and-Narrow, stuck with Ms. Take-What-You-Can-Get, However-You-Can-Get-It.

It’s not like I was born that way.

And it’s not like I had any trouble leaving it behind. Some habits die hard, but jeez, Ellen, the most I’ve done since the accident is a little finders-keepers. And no, I’m not racked with guilt over what came before. We both took early beatings for ratting him out-such great imaginations we had, weren’t we precious!-and I still have that scar on the back of my leg. So I didn’t have a lot of choice. Not-and don’t get all guilt-racked over this, but we both know it’s the truth-not once you so dramatically opted out of the life. Me…I just opted out of high school early. Out of proms and slumber parties and sweet first dates…and a future.

Nothing comes sweet in Rumsey’s world, not unless it’s for Rumsey himself.

Dave doesn’t get it. He doesn’t get that I left that world behind. You know, I was thinking of getting my GED. Of working in criminology, even. But things don’t exactly bode well for that particular option anymore. Especially now that Mr. Straight-and-Narrow knows who

I really am. He knows I want to keep your identity; he knows it’s because of Rumsey. But the warrant-the one in my name, for who knows what except I damn well didn’t do it-is the real problem.

Gotta wonder how long it’ll take before Dave figures it out.

Karin fiddled with the radio stations, hunting for something between outright country and hard rock. Surely there’d be one little station with an independent bent, one that played music that crossed the lines…just like her.

Bored, bored, bored. She gave up and sat back in the car seat as Dave linked his laptop to his cell phone and checked out the Front Royal Yellow Pages. “There’s a bed-and-break-fast that looks good,” he said. He disconnected the laptop and dialed the cell phone as Karin contemplated the brick restroom building not far from them. “Going for a walk.”

He hesitated, as though he might put the call through later and walk with her now. He might not like her scheming, but he fully intended to deliver her to that safe house.

What he didn’t realize was that she no longer had a reason to run. She’d already lost what she’d been trying to protect. “Dude,” she told him, “if I wanted to ditch you, I’d ditch you. And the whole escape at the bathroom thing has been done to death.”

“Dude,” he mused, one of those rare moments in this day when a genuine smile teased along his mouth. “Go, then. I’ll see if we can get a suite at this place.”

So she went, wrapped in her old army jacket and pretending she didn’t know about the tears and scuffs the cliff had wrought. Her poor stiff body sure knew about it. Her wrist ached inside the cast, and every bruise and cramp protested her movement. She walked the perimeter of the area, stopping to watch as a boy played with the family dog. She realized, to her astonishment, that she missed Dewey. Ellen’s dog had come into her life with no choice in the matter. Yeah, she missed him.

And the sheep. And even the demanding goats.

Great. She was homesick. Farmsick. And it wasn’t even her farm to begin with. Then again, it wasn’t even her life.

To shake herself free of the mood, she took another brisk tour around the perimeter. Hey, maybe her butt wouldn’t be asleep forever at that. She put her mind to work on the scam she’d run if she had endless resources. All the extras she needed, all the finances, the best manager…she’d be the roper. She was always the roper. She’d weave her way into Longsford’s trust, pulling him along by his greed.

Except in this case, the end goal wouldn’t be the sting itself. It would be what she could learn along the way. It would be about saving one little boy.

Dave had parked at the end of the lot, and Karin broke into a jog, stretching her legs a little as she went back to join him. First things first…clothes. Surely Front Royal would have a store or two. Would there be anyone she could trust with her hair? With her eyes?