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Page 38.
 He tugged at her hands. "Lexa, I hope I'm hearing right. I was all set to step out of the picture, to not ruin your life."
She pulled her hands away defiantly. "I don't want to ruin your life, Jeff. You've got this book, your career, everything going for you. Do you know what would happen to that if Grandfather found out how we feel about each other?"
How we feel about each other...Jeff heard her words, numbly, and realized she was, perhaps inadvertently, pushing him to admit that he was falling in love with her. He said: "I've been trying to avoid..."
"Yes," she interrupted, with the telepathy of people in love, "I know you have, and I was trying to push you away, make you save yourself, save your career..."
"My career," he said. He laughed. "Lexa, a book or a job is not everything."
"Jeff, people fall in and out of love."
"I wouldn't let your Grandfather scare me away from you."
She cried softly, and he waited. She found a hankie, wiped her eyes, blew her nose. "It dawned on me in the ambulance. I loved Arthur once. I still care deeply about him, as a friend. But it dawned on me that life is short and you really can't sell yourself out, not even for an inheritance." She put her hankie away and seemed to regain her composure. "I feel pretty rotten in a way. I've hurt Arthur and Grandfather, and they are after all the two men in my life. But I can't marry either one. I can't marry you either, not for a few donuts and a kiss. But I sure wish you were my boyfriend or something. I'm so sick and tired of doing what Arthur and Grandfather expect of me, what I expect of myself. For Chrissake," she blazed, "I just WANT TO BE IN LOVE!!" She glared at him.
He laughed. "Okay. Can I be in love with you?"
She softened. "I wish you would be."
He reached over with both hands, cupped her face toward him, and kissed her deeply. At that moment, nothing mattered for him beside the intimate tangle of their tongues and hearts.
Donuts and coffee came, brought by the indomitable lady in pink. "Youse kids are quite a picture," she muttered, setting the fragrant tray down.
Jeff and Lexa ate, sitting pressed together out of a hunger neither had realized. For him, the warm pressure of her body next to his was like thirst-quenching drink. "Look," he said, "you and your mother probably aren't safe even at your grandfather's house. Why don't you stay with me for a few days. Your nutty killer doesn't know where I live."
"Do you mean it, Jeff?" She paused in mid-chew.
"Sure," he said. "We could exchange stolen kisses. What do you say?"
Her eyes brimmed. "Yes, I'd like that very much. Stolen kisses, and all. My mother's kind of dotty; she wouldn't notice. And I could just tell Grandfather we're at some motel. The less anyone knows, the better."
"All right then," he said, pulling out a pen and a napkin. "I'll draw you a little map, and I'll see you there later today." He felt in his pocket for a spare key to the house. "I have a dog," he said. "Her name is Checky. She's a mixed breed German shepherd and who knows what. She'll bark, but she won't bite. What you have to do is talk to her real nice. Pour some dry dog food from the big bag under the sink, and she'll understand that you're my friend."
"Checky," Lexa repeated. "I'll remember that.
Back in his office at World Anaconda, Jeff called McCarthy. "Hey, I need for you to get me a permit to carry a piece." To McCarthy's pause, he added: "We should have done this days ago when I let myself into this."
McCarthy assented. "Okay, I'll see what I can do."
"You better get it for me today," Jeff said.
"Okay, okay, I'll get it for you." McCarthy hung up.
Jeff went to his car, which was parked around the side of the building. There, he pulled the gun from under the seat, a compact, deadly black automatic with 9 mm. firepower, in a blond leather shoulder holster, the whole wrapped in oilcloth marked: "Metric Wrench Kit."
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