Gone Duck #5 (Romantic Suspense) Read Free Page B

strip of small
hangars much like the ones they’d left in Spokane. If it weren’t for the
unmistakable flatness that stretched all the way to the horizon, she would think
they’d been tricked into returning to Washington. If it were a nightmare,
they’d be taken back to the Davenport.
    When the plane finally stopped just outside the
last hangar, they were met by two black cars with flashing red lights.
    “Don’t worry,” Dave said again. But he didn’t sound
like he believed it.

CHAPTER
THIRTY-THREE
     
    During the flight, Macey had helped Shawn move his
cash from his backpack into hers along with a second, small handgun she hadn’t
known about.
    “Trust me,” he’d said.
    And with officers waiting for them at the bottom
of the steps, she suddenly remembered the little warning that played over and
over again in airports, warning people not to let anyone con them into carrying
something in their luggage that wasn’t theirs.
    Dave stepped around them and climbed down first,
his enchanting smile already in place. Every officer on the ground broke out
into a grin.
    “Dave Wells, at his finest,” Shawn grumbled in her
ear.
    “Lucky for us. Now, try to act like you’re in love
with me.”
    “Done,” he murmured, kissed her behind the ear,
then on the neck. His hand snaked around her waist and he pulled her back
against him. “Don’t drop the backpack, but let it dangle behind you. Maybe they
won’t notice it.”
    She would’ve liked to stay right where she was,
enjoying his nearness and the sensations he aroused from her hairline to her
toes, but real life was waiting along with some well-armed people.
    She descended steps with Shawn at her back. At the
bottom, a smiling officer directed her to the right where a table had been set
up. The luggage from the back of the plane was already being loaded onto it and
being picked through. Dave stood off to the left, arguing with one of the
Canadians. The man shrugged and shook his head.
    “Looks like Dave doesn’t have things so organized
after all. If we’re arrested, don’t say anything. No name. Nothing. Don’t ask
for a lawyer. Just stay where they put you until I can buy our way out.”
    “With no money?”
    He laughed and kissed her neck. Everyone stopped
and stared at them.
    “Your backpacks please.” The officer gestured to
an empty space on the table. Reluctantly, they laid all three packs in front of
him. The man reached for Dorothy Jean’s first.
    “The medications all belong to my grandpa,” Macey
said. “He’s eighty.” She hoped that would explain why there were so many.
    He looked closely at one of the bottles. “Your
grandfather is named Dorothy?”
    “I prefer to be called Dotty,” Dorothy Jean
grumbled from behind them. Her bald look was incredibly disturbing with her
red, bowed lips. They were lucky the light in the hangar was dim or she might
have scared someone.
    They handed Dorothy Jean her backpack, then asked
if she had her passport. Macey was pretty sure the passport wouldn’t be for
anyone named Dorothy or Dotty.
    “Yes, I have it.” Dorothy Jean held it up.
    “Good,” the man told her. “You can put it away
now.” He glanced sideways at the officer who stood with Dave. The other man
nodded, then accepted a thick envelope, which earned him another Dave smile.
    The man behind the table opened Shawn’s pack next
and pulled out a pair of boxer/briefs, his basketball shorts, a t-shirt, and a
familiar leather coat. Dave suddenly appeared and picked up the jacket. “A
little small for you, sir.”
    “It’s hers.” He pointed to her and smiled. “I love
you in this jacket.” He took it from Dave and helped her put it on. Since he
was no longer snuggling up behind her, the chill of the metal building filled
with Canadian air, was finally registering.
    “No cash?” Dave looked surprised.
    “It’s been an expensive trip.”
    His old friend laughed. “I loved how you charged
your fifteen hundred dollar room to