Under the Gun. HelenKay Dimon
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Then she’d be gone. The woman was playing some kind of game. Luke knew that much. Why else was she hanging around the D.C. metro area, instead of taking the money and heading for a country that wouldn’t extradite her back for trial?
No, Claire had some sort of plot in mind. Something that involved him. Boy, would she be disappointed, because once he had her he was done running around after Claire Samson for any reason other than to turn her in to the police.
“She stepped off on the second floor and is headed toward the stairwell on the east side,” Adam said.
“Exactly what I would do.” It was the smart thing to do, and Claire was not dumb. As she came down the stairs, he went up. After one flight Luke stopped and stood at the door to the garage level. “Where next?”
“She’s out on the first floor walking toward the west-side stairwell now. Looks like she’s zigzagging.”
Luke took the stairs to the lobby floor two at a time. “Can she get outside?”
Computer keys clicked before Adam answered. “Once she hits the lobby, she can turn to her right and take a service exit that dumps her in an alley off K Street.”
Luke pressed the disk tighter against his ear. “Gates, locks, people? Anything there to stop her?”
“Once she’s outside her only choice is a long alley to the sidewalk. She won’t be able to turn around and reenter the building without a code.”
Busy downtown street and one with loads of business traffic at this time of day. Definitely not dumb. “Got it.”
“She’s in the lobby now,” Adam said.
Luke shoved open the door to the opposite end of the large area. The force sent it banging against the wall. Heads turned. Two people standing nearby stopped talking. Luke ignored all but the brunette at the other end of the lobby. She didn’t even glance around, proving she had her escape route planned.
“Claire!” His voice bounced off the stone walls.
When their eyes met, Claire went still.
He pointed at her. “Do not move.”
A hush fell over the businesspeople gathered at the elevators. Everyone glanced around and shuffled their feet as if embarrassed by being caught in the middle of a private conversation. Despite that, they listened in, but no one seemed to notice a notorious fugitive standing right there in front of them.
“Help! He’s following me.” The words barely left Claire’s mouth and she was off. She threw open the door to the exit and let it slam shut behind her.
The race was on.
Luke ran past a security guard, ignoring the shouts to stop. Using a shoulder, Luke knocked a twenty-something male Good Samaritan to the floor when he tried to block the path to Claire. People crowded around Luke to slow him down. He dodged, even jumped over a chair someone threw in his way.
A high-pitched alarm blared through the building as he hit the door Claire had used for her escape. The piercing sound echoed throughout the lobby, making it impossible for Luke to hear Adam screaming directions in his ear.
But Luke didn’t need any help from here. Even through the harsh scent of the alley, he could smell her familiar flowery shampoo. He was right behind Claire. As long as he grabbed her before she got to the street he was good.
He looked around for anything to stick in the door and slow down any do-gooders who decided to follow him out there. The piece of wood under his foot wasn’t perfect, but it might buy him some time. He shoved it through the door handle, then raced down the pavement, following Claire and getting closer with each step.
She kept her body toned, probably from hours of aerobics like before, but he was still faster. Only a few feet away now, he could see her on the other side of the Dumpster, hear her heavy breathing and watch her hair fly around in the warm October breeze. Then she slid to a stop. Actually lost her footing and fell back on one hand.
Instead of getting up and breaking out of the dark alley into the sunshine and possible freedom, she scrambled to her feet and ran toward him with her cheeks puffing and eyes wild. She landed with a thump against his chest but didn’t stop moving. With her hands wrapped in his shirt, she tugged him toward the door and back into the building they’d just left.
“We have to move,” she said. “Inside. Now.”
Luke planted his feet to stop the slide across the loose gravel under him. “Claire, stop.”
She grabbed his jacket sleeve and pulled hard enough to rip the fabric at the shoulder. “No time. We have to get out of here.”
Luke looked at the shadowed figure standing near the distant sidewalk. From the bulk, Luke knew it was a man, but that was all. “Who the hell is that?”
“I don’t know,” she said, her usually husky voice interrupted by huge gulping breaths.
Luke knew there was no way back into the building without a code, and he sure didn’t have it. They had to go through the guy at the other end.
“Tell security to back off!” Luke yelled the order loud enough for Adam to pick up through the honking horns and other sounds of the nearby street.
“Who are you talking to?” Claire asked.
The shadow at the end of the alley moved closer. The figure took his hand out of his windbreaker pocket. The sun behind him glinted off the metal of his gun. The baseball cap pulled over his face hid his identity, but the casual clothes and quiet stalking told Luke they had a problem. This other guy was no cop.
Luke positioned his body in front of Claire’s. A bullet or knife or anything else would have to go through him first.
He could hear people on the other side of the building’s door and a dull thud as they pushed against it. He needed backup and a way out that didn’t involve fighting through an angry crowd that viewed him as Claire’s attacker.
“He with you?” Luke asked her over his shoulder.
“Does he look happy to see me?”
Adam’s voice crackled in Luke’s ear. “Luke, there aren’t any security guards outside. They’re all standing around the lobby with their thumbs up—”
“Then who’s this guy I’m looking at?” Luke heard a short buzzing and saw the outside camera switch position to aim at the end of the alley.
The other man pulled his cap even lower. The gun pointed down, but Luke knew that could change in a second and didn’t wait. He shoved Claire behind the Dumpster, ignoring her squeal of surprise. The mystery guy’s footsteps fell faster against the pavement now. Luke ducked and squeezed in next to Claire.
Her eyes grew wide when he slipped out the gun he had tucked at the small of his back. “Where did you get that?” she asked.
“Not important.”
“You told me you sold art for a living.”
“I find antiques.” That was his cover and he was sticking to it.
“Find them or shoot them?”
Luke ignored the sarcasm and checked his gun. “This is your last chance to tell me the truth. Do you know how to do that?”
“You may want to remember I’m wanted for murder. Ticking me off might not be your best move.”
As if he could forget that fact. “Who’s this guy coming after you?”
“Don’t know.” Her skin paled. “Probably someone Phil sent.”
Phil