Sandra Robbins - Fugitive Trackdown

Tears formed in Claire’s eyes and she nodded. “I hope so, too.”

Jessica sighed and pushed to her feet. “Do you need me to help you get ready for bed?”

“No, I’ll be okay with my handy crutches. Thanks again.”

“I’ll get one of my robes and bring it back for you.”

“Thanks, Jessica.”

Jessica covered Claire’s hands and squeezed them before she left the room. Claire watched her go and thought about what she had said. Could she ever forgive Adam for how he’d hurt her? She didn’t know. Her dislike of him had become a part of her, and she didn’t know if she could ever wipe it from her mind.

She did have to admit, though, he’d come to her rescue several times tonight. Maybe he did have some good qualities she’d ignored. The question still remained whether or not she could forgive him. Only the future would tell.

Claire sighed and hobbled on her crutches to the window to close the curtains. As she reached for the cord to close them, the lights of a car in the parking lot behind Jessica’s apartment caught her eye. She stopped and stared as a car drove slowly past the parked cars of the residents. It didn’t stop but moved to the exit and disappeared around the corner of the building.

Claire tightened her fingers around the cord to draw the curtains, but her body seemed frozen in place. The car that had just passed by looked exactly like the car that had zoomed past their hiding place on Poplar Avenue a short time ago. Had the driver waited for them to lead him where Claire was going to stay that night?

“What are you looking at?” Jessica’s voice startled her, and she turned to see her friend standing in the doorway.

Claire glanced down at the robe Jessica held and smiled. “I was just closing the curtains.”

Jessica stepped into the room and laid the garment on the bed. “I hope you sleep well.”

Claire yawned. “I’m sure I will. I don’t know when I’ve ever been so tired.”

“Then I’ll say good-night.”

“Good night, Jessica.”

Claire waited until Jessica had left the room before she turned back to the window and stared outside. After a moment she closed the curtain, inched back to the bed and pulled her gun from her purse. She laid it on the bedside table, changed into the nightgown Jessica had left for her and then crawled into bed. No matter what she’d told Jessica, she knew sleep wouldn’t come.

She pulled the covers up to her chin and waited to see what would happen next.

* * *

Claire jolted awake and glanced at the bedside clock with its face glowing in the darkened room—2:00 a.m. Despite her good intentions, she’d fallen asleep. She pushed up in bed and raked her hair out of her face.

Her thoughts drifted back to the events of the night, and she shivered. She’d never been so scared in her life, but at least she was alive. Now she needed to get a grip on her emotions. Nothing else was going to happen tonight, so there was no need for her to try to stay awake. She had a busy day ahead of her tomorrow, and she needed some rest if she was going to make it through.

She plumped up her pillow and was about to lie back down when a noise from the direction of the kitchen startled her. It sounded as though a door had opened. She sat up again and strained to hear any other sounds in the apartment. Nothing. Then the creak of footsteps on the floor sent her heart racing.

Someone had entered the apartment.

Claire eased from the bed, slipped into her robe, and grabbed the gun from the bedside table. She stared at the crutches for a moment before she propped one under her left arm. With the gun in her right hand, she limped toward the bedroom door. Once there she propped the crutch against the wall and balanced on her good foot. Then she eased the door open and slid into the hallway.

She stopped and held her breath when the beam of a flashlight pierced the darkness. Now she had no doubt a prowler had entered the apartment.

She slid along the hallway wall until she reached the living room and then reached for the switch to turn on the overhead light. The man was facing away from her, and he pulled something from her purse. He whirled around just as the room lit up. Her bag tumbled to the floor.

“What...?” he snarled.

Claire’s heart jumped into her throat at the sight of James Lester with Peter Willis’s phone in one hand and a flashlight in the other. She tightened her grip on the gun. “Put it down, Lester.”

His gaze dropped to the gun in her hand, and he smirked. “Still trying to play the tough girl, huh? Well, you don’t seem too tough to me.”

He took a step toward her, and she swallowed. “I’m warning you. Don’t come any closer. Put the phone on the coffee table.”

He cocked his head to one side and grinned. “And what are you going to do? Shoot me? I don’t think you have it in you.”

Perspiration beaded her forehead. “Are you willing to chance it?”

He smiled. “I think I am.”

Before she could respond, he hurled the flashlight at her. It hit her in the chest, knocking the wind out of her. He rushed forward, grabbed her wrist and tried to twist the gun from her hand.

“No!” she screamed as she struggled against him. The gun jerked in her hand and fired.

James Lester screamed out in pain, and the gun and the cell phone he had held clattered to the floor. “You’ve shot me!” he yelled and staggered backward. “You shouldn’t have done that!”

She tried to reach her gun, but he lunged again, grabbed it before she could and pointed it in her face. She closed her eyes and waited for him to fire. Before he could pull the trigger, a voice thundered out. “Get away from her!”

His fingers loosened on her arm, and Claire glanced around to see Jessica with her gun aimed at James Lester. “Jessica, thank goodness...”

He growled, grabbed Claire’s other arm and pulled her in front of him. His left arm encircled her waist, and his right one, which held the gun, pressed across her chest. She realized she had just become James Lester’s shield. “Put your gun down unless you want your friend here to get hurt.”

Jessica didn’t back off but inched forward. “Let her go.”

“No way.” James pulled Claire backward toward the kitchen. She glanced down at the floor and noticed the trail of blood he left behind. She tried to claw at his face, but his arm across her chest held her so tightly she could barely move. “I’m leaving, and I’m taking her with me. If I see any cops following me, I’ll dump her body out of the car. Do you understand?”

“I understand you’re going nowhere but to jail,” Jessica said.

“Not today, sweetheart,” he replied. “So back off.”

They were almost to the back door now, and Claire knew she had to do something. He released the arm around her waist and reached behind him to open the door, and the pressure of his other arm lessened.

In that split second Claire ducked her head and clamped her teeth into his hand. He yelled in agony and hurled her away from him as the gun clattered to the floor. She stumbled forward and fell against one of the kitchen chairs. She looked up in fear as he took a step toward her. “You’ll pay for that!”

Jessica appeared in the doorway, her gun pointed at James. “Hands up, Lester.”

The look that washed over his face reminded Claire of a cornered animal. He glanced from side to side, then reached for the coffeepot on the counter next to him and hurled it at Jessica. When she ducked, he opened the door and stumbled out.

Before Jessica reached Claire, he had disappeared, and the sound of a car roaring away split the night air. Jessica dropped to her knees next to Claire. “Are you all right?”

She nodded. “I’m fine.”