The Only Way Out. Susan Mallery

almost nonexistent sidewalks. Drivers blasted horns as they fought for small parking spaces on the busy road.

      From open-windowed restaurants and bakeries, Andie could smell food and exotic spices. Her stomach gurgled.

      “Sounds like Bobby isn’t the only one who’s hungry,” Jeff said.

      “I’m fine.”

      Being near town made her nervous. She didn’t want to stop and eat. They could do that once they got to San Juan. There it would be easy to get lost in the large tourist areas. Several cruise ships docked every day and unloaded thousands of passengers who crawled over the old city. From there, it was only a short hop to Florida and safety.

      Jeff took a right turn, leaving the busy street behind them, then turned right again and came out on a paved two-lane road.

      “We can circle around the rest of the city from here,” he said.

      “Great.”

      Up ahead was a freestanding stall manned by an old woman in native dress. Hats, printed T-shirts and locally made dresses hung from the rickety sides of her place of business. Jeff slowed the Jeep and pulled onto the red clay shoulder. He angled the nose of the vehicle in slightly, so that the passenger side was blocked from the woman’s view by a large tree.

      “I’ll get you a hat,” he said, stepping out and moving toward the stall.

      Andie stared after him, watching his long, bare legs cover the distance in a matter of seconds. She could see the power in his stride. His blond good looks and clothing tagged him as an American tourist. The old woman could see there were other people in the Jeep with him, but she wouldn’t be able to identify the occupants and she hadn’t seen a woman and young boy traveling alone together. Jeff had thought of everything.

      Andie glanced down at the driver’s side and the key dangling from the ignition. Except he’d left her with a means of escape.

      She could simply drive off and leave him stranded. By the time he could arrange other transportation, she would be away from St. Lucas.

      She shifted slightly, ready to lift Bobby off of her. Her gaze drifted to the stand where Jeff was buying her a hat. He could have left her on her own, or even turned her in to Kray but he hadn’t. Obviously he wasn’t overwhelmed by her feminine charms. If anything, he seemed to alternate between disgust and ambivalence. She trusted those feelings more than she would have trusted an unreserved effort of assistance. She didn’t know why he was on the island and she didn’t want to know. Was he part of some agency’s plan to capture Kray? She wouldn’t want to interfere with that. The sooner Kray was locked up for his crimes, the sooner she and Bobby would be safe from him.

      Her indecision cost precious time, and before she could make up her mind, Jeff had paid the old woman and was starting back toward them.

      She glanced from the dangling key to him, and saw the exact moment he figured out what she was thinking. His pace didn’t increase or his stride lengthen, but his shoulders straightened slightly and his gaze narrowed.

      “You made the right decision,” he said, tossing her a paper bag and sliding into the driver’s seat.

      “What would you have done if I’d gone?” she asked, then told herself she was a fool for wanting to know. The way her luck was running, Jeff would tell her the truth.

      “Either fired a shot and blown out one of the tires, or told Kray where you were going.”

      “Whatever happened to chivalry?”

      “Put on your hat so we can get out of here.” He waited until she’d set the large-brimmed straw hat on her head before starting the engine and pulling out onto the road.

      The bag also contained sunglasses and a gauzy cotton shirt in bright blue. “What’s this for?” she asked.

      “When you get to San Juan, dump the jeans. Buy some shorts. You’ll look more like a tourist. The shirt is something for you to wear until you can stock up on supplies. If the pilot describes you to Kray, you don’t want to make it easy for his men to find you.”

      Even as he gave her instructions, his voice was edged with contempt. “Why do you hate me?” she blurted out.

      Jeff was silent so long, she decided he wasn’t going to answer. Just as well. It didn’t matter what he thought of her. She needed to concentrate on Bobby and how to keep him safe.

      The road narrowed and a small plane flew overhead. The thick island air seemed to press down upon her. Six and a half years ago, she’d thought St. Lucas was paradise. Now it was a prison.

      They rounded a bend in the road. Up ahead was a collection of wooden buildings, all small and in need of paint. Tin roofs rusted from the elements. An assortment of planes stretched out next to a long single runway. The plane she’d seen in the air came down slowly, drifting like a leaf on a breeze. Its engine got louder as it descended; then the plane touched down and rolled to a stop.

      “We made it,” she said, shaking Bobby gently. “Come on, honey, wake up.”

      Bobby stirred on her lap. “I’m hungry.”

      “I know. There’s some bread.”

      He shook his head. “I wanna hot dog.”

      “In a couple of hours we’ll be in San Juan and I’ll buy you three hot dogs.”

      Hazel eyes stared sleepily up at her. “With ‘tato chips?”

      “Sure, and a soda, too. But not yet, okay?”

      Bobby nodded.

      Jeff pulled up in front of the large building and turned off the engine. Andie gave him a tight smile. “Thanks for the lift and the lesson in survival.” She touched her wide-brimmed hat. “We’ll be fine from here.”

      He nodded. “I’ll stay to see that you get off all right.”

      “It’s not necessary.”

      “It is to me.”

      “Yeah, right. That’s why you’ve been so friendly to me.”

      Blue eyes met and held her own. Something ugly and painful flashed across his expression. Something that made her want to touch him and ease the suffering. Then it was gone and she was looking at the cool expression of a handsome, but deadly stranger.

      “It’s not you. It’s your lousy taste in men.”

      If he was talking about Kray, she had no rebuttal. She understood why he made his judgment, but she didn’t have to like it. “Everybody gets one mistake. He’s mine,” she said flippantly, so he wouldn’t know how his words had stung. “Come on, Bobby. Let’s go find our pilot.”

      She collected her small cloth suitcase and filled it with the remaining water bottles. Bobby refused any bread or fruit, stubbornly insisting he wanted a hot dog. Andie prayed for patience.

      When she’d settled her purse strap over her shoulder, she looked at the buildings, then started out toward the largest. It wasn’t much bigger than a two-car garage, but she could hear voices from inside. Before she entered the building, Jeff touched her arm.

      “Let me keep the boy,” he said.

      She stared up at him as her heart began to pound against her ribs. Oh, no. Not that. She’d trusted him and now he was going to steal her child? It wasn’t fair. She glanced around wildly for a weapon or something to hold him off.

      He grabbed her arm. “Dammit, that’s not what I meant.” His fingers bit into her. “Stop it, Andie. I’m not going to hurt you or Bobby.”

      She swallowed the fear and struggled for control. “Then what are you saying?”

      “I don’t like this.” He jerked his head toward the building. “It’s been too easy and I have a bad feeling. What I’m saying is that I’ll stay here with Bobby while you go make your deal with the