Eleven
Chapter One
Julia Chance drove slowly down the block in her rental car, anxiously looking from one side of the street to the other, growing more and more uneasy as she went.
She was looking for the Hotel Luna. She was sure she’d followed directions, but she couldn’t imagine her mother being in this neighborhood.
Old, run-down buildings crowded each other in this area of Dallas. Minimarts, aglow with their bright interior lights, battled with the dark bars that found residence on at least every other street. Men loitered in dark alleys between the buildings, prompting her to step on the gas and keep moving.
There on the right, a couple hundred feet up, a small sign drew her attention. Hotel L*na. Despite the sign’s missing letter, Julia knew that had to be it. She drove up to the hotel and pulled to the curb, but hesitated. The hotel looked anything but safe. Surely her mother wouldn’t—
From inside the Hotel Luna a man came running, startling her. He was big, muscular, wearing a white knit shirt from what she could see in the dim street-light. Maybe he was running because he was in a hurry, or maybe he—
Just then, the passenger door was opened, cutting off her thought, and the man she’d glimpsed earlier jumped into her car.
“Step on it, lady!” he ordered with a growl.
Julia’s eyes widened in surprise. Almost as a reflex, she resisted. “I’ll do no such thing! Get out of my car or I’ll call the police!”
She heard a sound similar to a loud pop right before her windshield split. As it happened, the man beside her grabbed Julia and yanked her down.
“What’s going on? Who’s shooting at you?”
“I accidentally interrupted a drug deal,” the man growled.
It took a minute for her to put things together. By that time, another bullet had hit her windshield. Then pain from her right foot shot through her as the man did as he’d asked her to do.
He stepped on the gas pedal, pushing it to the floorboard, ignoring the fact that her foot was under his.
He also grabbed the wheel, rising up just enough to see over the hood.
Julia felt like a coward, but she couldn’t bring herself to sit up and face any more bullets. Who was shooting? It could be the police, for all she knew. Was the man in her car the target? This guy could be a criminal escaping.
Well, he’d carjacked the wrong woman! She straightened and tried to wrest the steering wheel from his grasp. “Take your hands off. I’m the driver!”
To her surprise, he released the wheel. “Then drive. Get on the freeway. The entrance is right here.”
“What if I don’t want to get on the freeway?”
“Then we’ll both be killed! You don’t have much choice.”
The sound of a car behind them had her looking in the rearview mirror, but she couldn’t see much.
“They’re after us!” Again he slammed his foot on hers to increase their speed.
“I’m going to call the police if you don’t get out right now!”
“Do you have a phone? I seem to have lost mine. But call the police! I’d be more than happy to see a black-and-white.”
“You would?” Julia asked, surprised by his answer. Surely he must be a bad guy, she thought.
“Yeah, but hurry. They’re closing in on us quickly.”
“Who? Who is—”
She ended her questioning as bullets began to fly in their direction again. This time, she raced for the freeway, actually running a red light as she noted there was no traffic coming. She’d never done such an outrageous thing in her life!
They shot onto the freeway—and were immediately pulled over by a police car.
“Oh, dear! I don’t know—”
“Let me handle it!” the carjacker/passenger snapped.
The officer knocked on the glass and waited for Julia to lower the window.
Then he said, “You folks have an emergency, or do you just ignore posted speed limits?”
“Yes, officer, we do have an emergency,” the stranger beside her said calmly. Even his body language spoke of ease, but Julia was shaking.
“As you can see, we’ve run into trouble,” he said, gesturing to the bullet holes in the windshield.
“Where were you when this happened?” the officer asked, studying the evidence.
“We were looking for the Hotel Luna on Westmoreland,” the man said, causing Julia to look at him sharply. He was going to the hotel, too? She eyed him up and down, taking in his neatly trimmed brown hair, white shirt and pressed slacks. Not exactly Hotel Luna clientele, she thought.
The cop shook his head. “Not a good neighborhood.”
“We discovered that.”
“Can you tell me who shot at you?”
The stranger shrugged. “Couldn’t tell you. We must’ve just been in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“All right. If you’ll both come to my patrol car, I need to take a report. Either of you hurt? Do you need an ambulance?”
Both men looked at Julia, but she shook her head.
“No, we’re both fine. Just a little shocked,” the man answered.
“Then come with me.” The cop opened Julia’s door and escorted her back to his patrol car. He put her in the back seat while the man got in the front passenger seat.
First, the policeman used his radio to send some squad cars to the Hotel Luna. Then he took a clipboard and asked the man for his name.
Julia leaned forward, interested in that information herself.
Instead of speaking out loud, the man reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a business card.
“Thank you…” The cop read his name. “Mr. Rampling. And is this your wife?”
“No! No, she’s not.”
Julia leaned forward and gave her name and home address in Houston.
“So you’re both from out of town? Where are you staying?”
