He still didn't know what he was going to do. Indecision wasn't one of his traits, but this wasn't one of his usual jobs. Maybe it was because he was amused by her sheer guts in ripping off Salinas the way she had done, or maybe it was because of that afternoon of hot sex they'd shared, but at this point he was tracking her because, until he decided on his course of action, he didn't want to lose her. Maybe he was simply enjoying the chase, wondering what wrinkles she would throw at him.
On the other hand, two million was two million. And, unlike Drea, he already had an off-shore account-several of them-so he wouldn't have the difficulties she'd been facing.
At some point, though, he'd have to make a firm decision, and that point was fast approaching. Let her go or collect the two million? Let her go or take the risk of making a hit here in the States? Killings could and did go unsolved all the time, but he never lost sight of the fact that things were different here than they were in an underdeveloped country.
He glanced at his navigation system. The road she was on had a stop sign at every intersection-that would slow her down. He was on the main drag, which had two traffic lights back in the business district, such as it was, but the rest of the way the stop signs were all on the intersecting streets. He'd be at the gas station a couple of minutes before she reached it.
When he got there, he pulled in front of the air hose station and got out, so no matter which side of the gas pumps she chose, he could move around and keep the truck between them. She might have a full tank and not need to stop, which was okay; she wouldn't be able to get so far ahead of him that he'd lose her, not in the couple of seconds it would take him to get back in the truck.
He spotted her, coming toward him at a measured speed, not so fast she'd get pulled over but not poking along, either. He moved as she came closer, keeping the truck cab so it always partially blocked her view of him, in case she happened to glance his way.
She didn't pull in. She stopped at the intersection, looked both ways, and went straight across, heading west toward Colorado.
Good girl, he thought approvingly. She'd already filled the tank, instead of leaving something that important for the last minute. He went around the truck and climbed into the cab, and pulled back onto the highway just a hundred yards behind her.
Chapter Fifteen
DREA LOOKED IN HER REARVIEW MIRROR TO MAKE CERTAIN no one was coming up behind her, and saw the man getting into the pickup truck. Her heart gave a huge lurch, then skipped several beats. The road swam before her eyes as blood drained from her head. He was too far away for her to see his face, but she'd seen the way he moved, all grace and lethal power. She'd seen the way he held his head, the set of his shoulders, and she knew, knew in a way she couldn't explain but that went all the way to the bone.
That pickup. She'd seen that pickup before, or one very similar, and she couldn't stretch coincidence that far. It was the same color and make as the truck that had gone by just after Mrs. Pearson had pulled into the dollar store parking lot. It was him, and he'd been watching her even then. Somehow he'd figured out what she was doing and who to follow, and knowing that terrified her. He was too good at what he did; how could she possibly get away from him?
She had just enough control that she didn't jam the gas pedal all the way to the floorboard, but she steadily increased the power until the speedometer needle edged toward ninety and the front end began shimmying, then she eased off just a little. Her only hope was to get far enough ahead of him that she could take a side road or hide behind some structure, but she wouldn't be able to do that if the car fell apart.
The geography of Kansas didn't help. The land wasn't completely flat, but as good as. There was no way-
She was breathing too fast again, her heart pounding so hard and so rapidly she could barely think. She couldn't let him get to her like this; she had to be on her toes, she had to think, and she couldn't let herself panic.
She fought her nerves, fought her instinctive reaction, and forced herself to ease up on the gas pedal until the car had slowed to a far more reasonable speed. She couldn't outrun him; she'd be stupid to even try. The pickup was a full-size truck, with a more powerful engine than the six-cylinder she was driving. He was sitting higher, too, so he'd be able to see her for quite a distance, and she couldn't pull far enough ahead of him that she was out of sight for even a few seconds.
The question was, would he try to catch her now, when the countryside was so wide open that any other vehicle at a distance might be able to see him, or they might pass a farmer in his fields at any time? Or would he be content to shadow her and wait until nightfall provided him with cover?
He'd have to pull even with her to have a decent shot. He could force her off the road, but, contrary to the movies, cars didn't usually explode and burn when they crashed, and the combination of seat belts and air bags meant the people inside often survived. Of course, if he forced her off the road and her car was so damaged it was undrivable, then he could take his shot at his own leisure, but unless she hit a power pole or something, being run off the road wasn't going to accomplish much; she'd tear up a field of wheat, but that would be about the extent of the damage.
In her favor was the fact that he didn't know if she was armed. She wasn't, damn it, because guns hadn't been part of her arsenal. Sex and guile were her weapons, along with makeup and perfume, but he didn't-couldn't-know if she'd acquired a gun in the past eight days and he'd have to use caution.
She glanced at her fuel gauge, and wondered what his gas mileage was. Her six-cylinder got pretty good mileage, certainly better than his big engine would get. Maybe she could go farther than he could on a tank of gas. If he ran out of gas-no, fat chance he'd let that happen. But if he had to stop for gas, she'd have a chance to get away, to turn off the road and hide, take some other route to Denver.