Flirting with Disaster by Jane Graves Page B

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 sexist?”
    “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 bitch about my boss. Or, of all things, find 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?”
    Dave glanced into the rearview mirror for the hundredth time. “Haven’t so far. We may have shaken them for good.”
    “So I guess Robert and his partners in crime really do have an in with the local cops.”
    “I’d say that’s a safe bet.”
    “Then it’s nice that we’re getting the hell out of here.” Lisa looked around the interior of the Mustang. “And in such a hot car, too. Too bad it stood out in Santa Rios like a peacock in a flock of buzzards.”
    “This was all they had left at the rental place. Well, this or a fifteen-passenger van. I actually thought this would be less conspicuous.”
    “Can’t think of better bait if you want to catch a carjacker.”
    “And if I’d had any idea that carjacking was going to be an issue, I could have bought a junker for what this one cost to rent.” Dave circled his gaze around the car. “What am I saying? This one just became a junker.”
    It had one shattered back window, one blown-out driver’s side window, and a few bullet holes here and there for good measure.
    “They’re going to love getting this one back at the car rental company,” Lisa said. “What are you going to tell them?”
    “I won’t be telling them anything. If anyone caught our license plate number, they could have somebody waiting for us there. We’re not going to take that chance. We’ll just leave the car on airport property. They’ll find it sooner or later, and the insurance I took out will cover the damage. Then we’ll pick up a cab to the commuter airport.”
    “Will they check the small aviation companies? Maybe wonder whether we’re going to rent a plane?”
    “I doubt that. I think one of two things will happen. They’ll check the plate number, realize it’s a rental car, and ambush us there, or they’ll assume I own the car, in which case they’ll think we’re going to drive back across the border. Doesn’t mean I won’t be keeping my eyes open, though.”
    Dave stepped harder on the gas, then had a thought that made him step on the brake. “Damn it.”
    “What?” Lisa asked.
    “The spare tire. It’s one of those undersized ones meant for emergencies only. You’re supposed to drive only forty miles an hour with one of them. At that rate, it’ll take us at least five hours to get to Monterrey.”
    “Can’t you push it any harder than that?”
    “If that tire blows, we’ll be stuck out in the middle of nowhere.”
    “The later it gets, the more unlikely we are to get a plane today.”
    “I know. I’ll move it as fast as I can.”
    Lisa settled back in her seat with a heavy sigh. Dave glanced over at her. “You okay?”
    “Yeah. I’m fine.” She paused. “Still a little tired, I guess. Hadn’t counted on a shoot-out with the bad guys.”
    “Don’t you ever do anything like that again.”
    “Sorry. Can’t promise that.”