Die in Plain Sight by Elizabeth Lowell Page B

himself, he filled a third plate, leaned against the side of the truck, and ate with enough appreciation for himself and the women combined. As he ate, he catalogued the surrounding land with the eye of a man who had once jumped out of planes at night behind enemy lines. Then he’d jumped once too often and broke his right ankle in too many places to ever jump again.
    He couldn’t say that he missed it.
    No matter where he looked, nothing moved but the wind and a red-tail hawk looking for lunch. None of the fleet of white vehicles showed on any of the dirt tracks that wound over hills and through valleys and canyons. No trespasser was running his dog in the open country. The cattle and farm machinery that had once cropped the hills were gone. He was alone with two beautiful women who didn’t even know he was alive.
    “Welcome to my life,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I really should get a dog or a cat to talk to. Or goldfish. They don’t care if you go off for a week at a time. Maybe some ivy or dandelions or something. Nope, you have to water plants. Where are pet rocks when you need them?”
    If either of the women heard, neither answered. They were as lost in their painting as the wind was in the sky.
    Ian reached under the front seat and pulled out the binoculars he’d bought when he realized that his bodyguarding of Susa required excursions into unpopulated ranch lands. Not that he expected any trouble. He didn’t. And he was paid to make sure it stayed that way.
    He finished his second bottle of water, opened a thermos of coffee, and quartered the land with the binoculars while he sipped rich coffee from a plastic cup. No matter where he looked, he saw nothing but gentle hills, lush grass, outcroppings of boulders, occasional eucalyptus or chaparral in the ravines, and what looked like an old piece of machinery rusting at the bottom of Cross Country Canyon. It was too early in the day for deer or coyotes, and way too early for teenagers sneaking out into the wilds with six-packs of illicit beer under their arms.
    He brought the binoculars back to the shadowed ravine, intrigued by the rusting machinery. In addition to old movie posters, he collected old baling hooks, branding irons, license plates, and less identifiable bits of metal left over from forgotten farms. It wouldn’t take but a few minutes to skid down the slope, check out the rusty ruins, and get rid of all the water he’d been drinking.
    He searched the surroundings a final time. Nothing in sight that shouldn’t be. He put the field glasses on the seat.
    “Susa, I’m going into the ravine for a bit,” he said. “You holler if you need anything.”
    She might have nodded. He wasn’t sure. He went up to Lacey and said right into her ear, “I’m taking a bio break. You yell if you see anything new. Okay?”
    She jumped, gave him a deer-in-headlights look, and said, “Uh. Sure. Whatever.”
    For a moment he considered grabbing her and kissing her senseless, just to see her reaction. Then he decided his ego couldn’t take it if she ignored that, too.
    “I’ll be right down there,” he said, pointing to the ravine. “Think you can remember that?”
    “Sure. Why wouldn’t I?”
    “Jesus. I give up.”
    Lacey winced. “Sorry. I, uh, get a little distracted when I’m painting.”
    “Really? I hadn’t noticed.”
    “Have I been that bad?”
    “Yeah. Susa’s worse. Now, listen up. I’m going down in the ravine for a few minutes. If you see anything human besides us, let me know in a real loud voice. Okay?”
    Lacey frowned and glanced around at the beautiful empty land. “Do you really think—”
    “I’m paid to be paranoid and I’m good at my job,” he cut in. Gently he rubbed a smear of blue paint off the corner of her mouth and touched the center of her lower lip with the pad of his thumb. “Don’t worry. Go back to painting.”
    “Did I almost get a pat on the head?” she muttered.
    “No. You almost got