"So tell me, Lacey, what is a lovely young lady doing alone at this fashionable resort hotel?"

"What makes you think I'm alone?"

"I have an unerring nose for such things."

"Unerring?" she asked, somewhat surprised that he had used the correct p.r.o.nunciation-err as in purr.

"Seldom erring. But it's. .h.i.t the mark this time, hasn't it?"

"Isn't 'mark' a con man term for a sucker?"

"Do you see yourself as a sucker?"

"Do you see yourself as a con man?"

He grinned-a boyish, disarming grin. Lacey wondered how much time he spent at mirrors, practicing it. "A confidence man? Of course. Here I am, trying to win your confidence."

"When's the pitch?"

"Later. I haven't won yet, have I?"

"Far from it."

"Are you always this distrustful?"

"Only of strangers who approach me uninvited."

"Ah. You a.s.sume I have mischief on my mind."

"Do you?"

"That would be telling."

If I told you that, you'd know. The low, rough voice. She suddenly trembled as if a cloud had smothered the sun, an icy wind blown across her.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Hey, I was only joking about the mischief."

"I know."

"Are you all right?"

"I just...what you said, it reminded me of something."

"Must've been something unpleasant."

"It was."

"Want to talk about it?"

"No."

"A chance like this doesn't come along every day, you know: a friendly, willing ear, the sunlight beating down, a b.l.o.o.d.y Mary in your hand. Besides, I might be able to help."

"How could you help?"

"How will I know unless you tell me your problem? Let me guess, though: it involves a man."

She took a drink, and stared at the glistening pool.

"He did something to you."

The bantering tone was gone from Scott's voice. Lacey glanced at him. He was staring at his drink, his face solemn.

"Yes," she said.

"He didn't jilt you, nothing like that. What ever he did, you're frightened of him. He hurt you, didn't he? Beat you up."

"You're very observant," Lacey muttered, glancing down at her bruises and scratches.

"You came here to get away from him. You're hiding out, probably even registered under a fake name in case he comes looking for you."

"I couldn't," she said. "I had to use a credit card to get the room."

"But the rest is right?"

"Close enough." Lacey sipped her drink and set the gla.s.s on her belly. Its cold wetness soaked through her damp swimsuit. It felt good.

"Husband, boyfriend, or stranger?"

"Stranger."

"Did you go to the police?"

"He got away."

"And you're afraid he'll come after you?"

"He'll kill me, if he can."

"We won't let him."

"We?"

He winked. "You and me, kid."

"Thanks for the offer, but I don't want anyone else involved in this. Besides, I don't think he'll find me here."

"It doesn't take a genius to find someone hiding out at a major hotel-particularly if she's using her real name."

"Thanks."

"How long have you been here?"

"This is the third day. I got in Thursday afternoon."

"Then you've been here much too long. You're lucky he hasn't already shown up."

"He doesn't even know what city I'm in, Scott."

"You're not from Tucson?"

"No."

"But I'll wager this is the nearest large city, and the place he'll look first."

"I guess so," she admitted.

"If I were you, I'd get out of here today and check into a different hotel. Better still, head for another town."

"It's past checkout time. Besides, I don't want to. I like this one."

Scott shrugged. "In that case, I think you should allow me to act as your escort."

"No. Really, Scott..."

"I'd be happy to do it. After all, you're a beautiful woman, and we're both alone in the city. How could I spend my time better than by keeping company with a creature like you?"

"A creature?" she asked, smiling.

"A damsel in distress."

"It might be dangerous."

"I'm good with my dukes. Besides, I pack heat."

"A gun?"

"A Colt.45 automatic. Never go anywhere without it. Except, of course, to the swimming pool."

"What are you, a bank robber?"

"You ever hear of Charlie Dane?"

"San Francisco Hit, Manhattan Mayhem...?"

"Tucson Death Squad. That's to be his latest battle against the forces of evil. The galleys are up in my suite this very moment."

Lacey stared at him, frowning. "But those are written by Max Carter."

"Otherwise known as Scott Bradley."

"You."

"Me."

"That still doesn't explain the gun."

"Max keeps the rod at his side when he sits at the old typewriter. It puts him in touch with Charlie Dane."

Lacey grinned. "Does Max also wear Charlie's trench coat?"

"Too hot. But he does don the battered fedora."

"Not while he's escorting me, I hope."

"I'll leave Max in the room, and borrow his piece."

"He won't mind?"

"He's always eager to please."

CHAPTER TWELVE.

Carl grabbed the phone before its second ring. "Tri-bune."

"Carl?"

His heart began to hammer. "How's it going, Lace?"

"So far, so good. He hasn't found me yet. Any activity on your end?"

"Nope. There haven't been any incidents since you left."