James Patterson - Lifeguard

To Ellie’s amazement, she heard the automatic locks lift. There was an exit approaching, and he slowed at the upcoming ramp.

“Or” – he looked sort of helpless – “you can stick around for a while longer. Help me figure out how I’m going to get out of this mess.”

Kelly brought the car to a stop and waited for her to move.

“Go on. I figure I’ve got, what, about three minutes before every exit on this highway is covered with cops?”

Ellie looked at him, a little stunned. She placed her hand on the door latch. You’re being handed a gift , said a voice inside her. Take it ! She’d been to the house in Lake Worth. She’d seen the blood and the slaughtered bodies. This guy was connected to the victims. He’d fled.

But something held her back. The guy had this scared, fatalistic smile.

“I wasn’t lying, what I said back there. I’m no killer. I had nothing to do with whatever went on down in Florida.”

“Taking a federal agent hostage doesn’t exactly strengthen your case,” Ellie said.

“They were my friends, my family. I’ve known all of them my whole life. I didn’t steal any paintings and I didn’t kill anyone. All I did was set off some alarms. Look ”-he waved the gun – “I don’t even know how to use this fucking thing.”

It did look that way, Ellie thought. And she did recall a series of house alarms being triggered at mansions around town just prior to the theft. They assumed it was a diversion.

“Go on, get out.” Kelly took a look back. “I’m expecting company.”

But Ellie didn’t get out. She just sort of held there, looking at him. He didn’t seem so crazy all of a sudden. Just confused, scared. In way, way over his head. And somehow she didn’t feel so threatened. Cops were on their way. Maybe she could talk him in. Jesus, Ellie… This is a long way from the Rare Prints Department at Sotheby’s !

“Two,” Ellie looked at him, slowly releasing the door handle. “You’ve got about two minutes. Before every cop car south of Boston is here.”

Ned Kelly’s face seemed to brighten. “Okay,” he said.

“You tell me everything that happened down there,” Ellie said. “ Maybe I can do something. Names, contacts. Everything you know about the robbery. You want to get out of this mess? That’s the only way.”

A halting smile crossed Ned Kelly’s face. In it, Ellie didn’t see some cold-blooded killer, just a guy who was as nervous as she was, who had dug himself a very deep hole he might never pull himself out of. She thought maybe she could gain his trust. Talk the guy in, with no one getting hurt. If the cops caught up to him now, she wasn’t sure what would happen.

“Okay,” he said.

“And if I were you, I’d keep that gun pointed at me every once in a while,” Ellie said. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. “They do teach us ways to disarm someone, you know.”

“Right.” Ned Kelly grinned nervously. He gunned the 4Runner up the ramp. “First thing we’d better do is ditch my mom’s car.”

WE SWITCHED THE 4RUNNER for a Voyager minivan left running in a supermarket parking lot.

An old maneuver. Growing up, I’d watched Bobby pull it off a dozen times. The owner was just wheeling her shopping cart back to the market. With everything that was going on, I figured I had at least an hour before anyone would respond to the call.

“I can’t believe I just did that.” Ellie Shurtleff blinked, amazed, as a minute later we were cruising back on Route 24. The look on her face read, It’s one thing to stay with this guy, another thing entirely to be part of stealing someone’s car .

An evergreen car freshener was dangling from the rearview mirror. A yellow notepad fastened to the dash. On it was scribbled, Groceries. Manicure. Pick up the kids at 3:00 . A bag of groceries bounced up in the back. Pizza puffs. And Count Chocula.

We looked at each other and almost laughed as the thought hit us at the same time: a wanted killer driving a minivan.

“Some getaway car,” she said, shaking her head. “A real Steve McQueen!”

I had no idea where to go next. But I figured the safest place was my little motel room back in Stoughton. Fortunately, it was a motor lodge, so I could get around to the room without going through the lobby.

I locked the door to the room behind us and shrugged. “Look, I have to pat you down.”

She rolled her eyes at me, like, What, are you kidding? Now ?

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I never take advantage of an FBI agent on the first date.”

“You think if I was trying to apprehend you, I wouldn’t have done it by now?” Ellie Shurtleff said.

“Sorry,” I said, a little embarrassed. “Just a formality, I guess.”

I was lucky that if I had to abduct an FBI agent, I had stumbled onto Ellie Shurtleff and not some Lara Croft type who would’ve had my arm twisted out of its socket by now. Truth was, I would never have pinned her for a fed. An elementary-school teacher, maybe. Or some MBA. With wavy, short brown hair and a couple of freckles on her cheek, a button nose. And nice blue eyes, too, behind the glasses.

“Arms up” – I waved the gun – “or out to the side, whatever it is.”

“It’s up against the wall,” she said turning, “but what the hell…”

She extended her arms. I knelt, patting her pants pockets and thighs. She was wearing a tan pantsuit with a white cotton T-shirt underneath, which she filled out pretty nicely. Some kind of green, semiprecious stone hanging from her neck.

“You know, it wouldn’t exactly take much to drive an elbow into your face right now.” I could see she was losing patience. “They do teach us stuff like that, you know.”

“I’m not exactly a pro at this.” I edged away from her. I didn’t like that “elbow to the face” comment.

“You might as well check the ankles while you’re down there. Most of us keep something strapped there when we’re in the field.”

“Thanks.” I nodded.

“Just a formality,” Ellie Shurtleff said.

I didn’t find anything, except some keys and breath mints in her purse. I sat down on the bed. All of a sudden I realized what I’d just done. This wasn’t a movie. I wasn’t Hugh Jack-man and this wasn’t Jennifer Aniston, and this scene wasn’t exactly moving toward a happy ending.

I placed my forehead in my hands.

Ellie sat on a chair, facing me.

“What do we do now?” I asked. I flicked on the tinny TV, just to hear the news. I tried to moisten my mouth, but it stayed as dry as the Sahara Desert.

“Now,” Ellie Shurtleff said with a shrug, “now we talk.”

I TOLD ELLIE SHURTLEFF everything.

Everything I knew about the art heist down in Florida. I left out nothing.

Except the part about meeting Tess. I didn’t know how to tell her about that, and have her believe me about everything else. Besides, I found it really hard to even think about what had happened to Tess.

“I know I’ve done some stupid things in the past few days,” I said looking at Ellie, earnestly. “I know I shouldn’t have run back in Florida. I know I shouldn’t have done what I did today. But you have to believe me, Ellie… killing my friends, my cousin…” I shook my head. “No way. We didn’t even take that art. Someone set us up.”

“Gachet?” Ellie asked, making a few notes.

“I guess,” I said, frustrated. “I don’t know.”

She looked at me closely. I was praying she believed me. I needed her to believe me. She switched gears. “So why did you come up here?”

“To Boston?” I put the gun down on the bed. “Mickey didn’t have connections down there. At least, not the kind who could set up that kind of heist. Everyone he knew was from up here.”