"I'm suffocating under this blanket."

"I know. I'll get the tire changed as fast as I can and we'll be out of here."

Aside from a man who had parked near the building and gone inside for a c.o.ke or a pack of cigarettes, the station wasn't busy, so Dave popped the trunk and removed the jack and the spare with the car still sitting at the pump. He changed the tire in record time.

Then, a few minutes later, as he was tossing the flat tire into the trunk, he spotted the problem. He hadn't picked up a nail or run over a sharp rock that had penetrated the tread.

The tire had been slashed.

Dave was in the process of putting two and two together, but he hadn't quite reached four when he felt something cold and hard just beneath his left ear.

A gun.

chapter six.

Dave's attacker slammed him down on the trunk of the car, the spoiler jamming him in the ribs and knocking the wind out of him. The guy reached into Dave's pocket, grabbed the car keys, then gave him a hard shove sideways. He stumbled a yard or two and went down hard, whacking his shoulder on the pavement.

What the h.e.l.l h.e.l.l was going on? was going on?

Dave instantly leapt to his feet, but not before his attacker slid into the driver's seat of the Mustang and slammed the door.

Carjacking?

s.h.i.t. Lisa was in the backseat. Lisa was in the backseat.

Dave raced around the car just as the guy flicked the door locks and started the engine. Dave grabbed the nozzle off the gas pump, spun around, and smacked it through the driver's window. The gla.s.s shattered and sprayed. Dave had just flipped the door lock when Lisa flew up out of the backseat and wrapped the blanket around the guy's head, pulled him back hard, and pinned him against the headrest. Dave flung the door open and yanked the gun out of the guy's hand. Grabbing him by the wrist, Dave hauled him out of the car and threw him onto the ground.

The guy swatted the blanket away and started to rise, but Dave gave him a smack across the face that sent him tumbling backward onto the pavement. Dave leapt into the car, tossed the gun into the pa.s.senger seat beside him, jammed the Mustang into gear, and took off.

"Lisa?" he said, breathing hard, searching for her face in the rearview mirror. "You okay?"

She looked up from her sprawled-out position in the backseat. "Yeah. Sure. Plane crash, carjacking-I'm doing just great."

"Nice move with the blanket."

"It was all I had. I had to improvise. Problem, though."

"What?"

"I know our carjacker. Ivan Ramirez."

"The guy you talked about earlier? The one who's part of a local gang?"

"Yeah. That's the one."

"Does he know who you are?"

"Yeah. He knows."

"Did he get a good look at you?"

"Eye to eye as we were pulling away."

s.h.i.t. "Do his criminal skills go beyond carjacking? Say, to drug counterfeiting?" "Do his criminal skills go beyond carjacking? Say, to drug counterfeiting?"

"This isn't a very big town. I'm betting he's into everything illegal he can get his hands on. But even if he's not involved with the counterfeiting, all he's got to do is tell somebody that I'm alive and it'll eventually get back to Robert."

"Then we need to hotfoot it to Monterrey. And I still want you to stay down. No need to push what little luck we have left."

Lisa slid onto the floor of the backseat. "Speaking of lack of luck, what are the odds of Ivan coming into that station and grabbing the car we're trying to get out of town in?"

"Pretty good, since the flat was no accident."

"What?"

"The tire was slashed."

"What?"

"Nice system they've got going. Fernando spots a nice late-model car. He flattens the tire, then phones his partner. During the time it takes to change it, the other guy gets there. He grabs the car, and Fernando gets a cut of the profit."

"And since Ivan is into all things criminal-"

"Guess who showed up." Dave shook his head. "Unfortunately, I didn't spot the scam until I saw the tire. By then it was too late."

Dave braked at a stoplight, an antsy feeling crawling up the back of his neck. Pedestrians crossed the street in front of them. He found himself searching every face for anyone who looked a little shady, which was pointless. h.e.l.l, right about now, everybody in this town looked like a criminal.

He hit the gas again. Before long they approached the northern edge of town. One more stop sign, and nothing but open road lay ahead. As Dave brought his car to a halt, another car pulled up to the stop sign on the cross street.

A patrol car.

"Lisa, we may have a problem."

"What?"

"Just stay down. No matter what happens, just stay down."

Dave began to pull away from the stop sign, only to have the cop on the cross street hit the gas hard, wheeling his car in their direction.

"d.a.m.n it!"

"What?" Lisa said.

"Just stay down!"

The patrol car cut in front of Dave, screeching to a halt only inches from his front b.u.mper. A cop leapt out, his weapon drawn.

"Salga del carro!" he shouted. "Manos arriba!"

Dave understood that loud and clear, but he had no intention of getting out of his car and putting his hands up, now or anytime in the near future.

He threw the car into reverse, swung it around 180 degrees, then hit the gas, tires shrieking against asphalt. In his rearview mirror he saw the cop get back into his car. He took off after them, lights flashing and siren wailing.

"What the h.e.l.l is happening?" Lisa shouted.

"We've got a cop after us."

"You're kidding."

"Tell me this is how they treat traffic offenders in this town. Tell me he's not chasing us because Ivan made a phone call."

"I think Ivan made a phone call."

s.h.i.t.

Dave sped down the street, heading back into town, but traffic thickened, slowing them down. When he came to a stop sign, he wheeled around the car in front of him, barely missing another car coming across the intersection from his right. Tightening his grip on the steering wheel, he stomped the gas pedal to the floor. A shot exploded, blasting the rear window of the car, showering gla.s.s on both of them.

"Stay down!" Dave shouted.

The moment the traffic cleared on the opposite side of the road, Dave hit the brake and wheeled hard to the left, spinning the Mustang around in a one-eighty to head back north. When he pa.s.sed the police car still traveling south, the cop took another shot. The bullet narrowly missed them, taking out a storefront window instead in an explosion of gla.s.s. In his rearview mirror Dave saw the cop pull the same one-eighty he had, and within seconds he was half a dozen car lengths behind them again.

"d.a.m.n it!" Dave said. "I can't shake him!"

"Any cars between us and him?"

"Nope. He's coming right up behind us."

"Is that gun up there loaded?"

"I have no idea."

"Let's find out."

Suddenly Lisa rose from the backseat, leaned over into the front seat, and grabbed the gun. Before Dave knew what was happening, she'd spun around and pointed the gun out the back window. Three shots exploded in quick succession.

"What the h.e.l.l are you doing?" he shouted. "Get down!" "Get down!" A second later, Dave heard a crash behind them. Looking into his side mirror, he saw that the police car had crossed traffic, jumped the curb, and smashed into a lamppost. A second later, Dave heard a crash behind them. Looking into his side mirror, he saw that the police car had crossed traffic, jumped the curb, and smashed into a lamppost.

"Bingo," Lisa said, turning back around and slumping wearily in the seat. "Got his tire. And his radiator for good measure." She was breathing hard, still clinging to the gun. "Adrenaline. Amazing stuff."

"Give me that!" Dave reached over the seat and yanked the gun out of her hand. "You could have gotten your head blown off!"

"It was that or have him chase us all the way to Monterrey. I prefer a leisurely drive, thank you."

Unbelievable.

Dave floated the next stop sign, wheeling the car hard to the left to avoid hitting vehicles crossing the intersection, then stomped the gas again.

"Well, since my cover's blown," Lisa said, climbing into the front pa.s.senger seat and plopping down with a weary sigh, "I might as well ride shotgun."

"From now on, you'd better mean that figuratively."

"I took out the bad guy and you're complaining?"

Dave couldn't believe this. On a normal day, he'd be back in Tolosa, stopping speeders and breaking up domestic disputes. Instead, he was playing car chase with crooked Mexican lawmen who were just dying to blow his head off, partnered with a woman who made Bonnie Parker look like a kid with a water pistol.

"Where the h.e.l.l did you learn to shoot like that?" he asked.

"When I'm home in San Antonio, I go to the shooting range once a week."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. I have a license to carry concealed in Texas. But they're funny about you bringing guns into Mexico. Drugs, they get a little p.i.s.sed. Guns, they toss you in jail and throw away the key. Makes no sense, but there you go. I feel downright naked without my Glock."

"So why the handgun proficiency?"

"A girl's gotta protect herself."

"So you can hit a paper target at a shooting range. Who taught you to how to blast away at the bad guys?"

"Bruce Willis. Arnold Schwarzenegger. Sylvester Stallone."

"Yes, and they go home at the end of the day no matter how many times they've been shot. Stick to chick flicks, will you?"

She gave him a look of total disgust. "Are you really that s.e.xist?"

"No, I'm really that rational."

"Chick flicks. Right. I can learn how to sit around a dining room table with four other women and whine about my boyfriend. Or b.i.t.c.h about my boss. Or, of all things, find find myself." myself."

Dave just shook his head.

After a few more minutes, when no other Santa Rios lawmen seemed inclined to take out after them, Dave unwound a little. A little.

"Robert is going to be surprised to find out that I'm alive," Lisa said.

"I imagine he is. But once we get back across the border and you go to the authorities, there isn't anything he can do about it."

"Will we run into any trouble in Monterrey?"

"They have no clue who I am or where I came from," Dave said, "so they have no way of knowing where we intend to go. Unless Douglas has the ability to cast a very large net, he'll never be able to find us."

"Do you think they'll try to follow us there?"