Sins of the Father by Christa Faust Page B

guard might have bought them their only opportunity to get away, he weighed his options.
    He didn’t know her.
    He didn’t owe her anything.
    Clearly the thing to do was to leave her behind, and save his own ass.
    But she owed him. If she were killed, there would be no payoff. No way to get Big Eddie off his back. And even though his tidy little deal was rapidly devolving into lethal chaos, he still had to pull this off.
    So he grabbed Doctor Lachaux’s arm, and hauled her to her knees, gripping her chin and tilting her face up toward his.
    “Look at me,” he said. “We need to get out of here, right now .”
    Her eyes flickered in the direction of the bleeding security guard. There was way too much white visible around her pale blue irises.
    “Never mind him,” he said, turning her face back to him. “Just look at me, okay? I’m gonna get you out of here.”
    She looked up at him, pulling in a deep, shaky breath.
    “You ready?” he asked.
    She swallowed hard and nodded.
    “Then let’s go,” he said.
    He tucked the sparkly purple vibrator into the waistband of his pants like a weapon, slung a protective arm around Doctor Lachaux’s shaking shoulders, and duck-walked her as fast as he could toward the gate, keeping her head low. He could hear footsteps behind them, pounding on the metal exterior stairs that led from the third floor breezeway.
    But he couldn’t risk a backward glance.
    On the other side of the gate sat Peter’s rental, a light-blue hatchback. He pulled Doctor Lachaux around to the driver’s side, keeping the bulk of the car between them and the action in the pool area. Then he thrust his hand into his pocket.
    The key wasn’t there.

They were screwed.
    “Where’s your car?” Peter asked.
    “I took a cab,” she hissed. “I’m not allowed to drive—I’m epileptic!”
    Peter swore and started randomly trying door after door of the cars, checking to see if any of them were unlocked.
    No dice.
    Finally, he came to the end of the row—and the end of his nerves. It was looking like they were just going to have to make a run for it on foot when the last car in the line proved to be unlocked.
    That was the good news. The bad news was that it was a tiny, two-seat vintage Jaguar E-type coupe that was unlike anything else on the road. It would stand out like a sore thumb—and of a make and model that was notoriously finicky about starting.
    Well, beggars can’t be choosers …
    He yanked open the door and checked around for hiding places. Under the visor. Under the seat. Glove box.
    Nothing.
    “Check the wheel well,” he whispered.
    Doctor Lachaux did what he asked, fumbling around inside the wheel well on the driver’s side of the coupe. While she searched, Peter peered over the roof at the open pool gate.
    “Found it!” she said. “Here…”
    The big blond guy picked that moment to appear, scanning the lot, gun sweeping back and forth like a bloodhound’s muzzle casting for a scent. Peter ducked down and pulled his companion into a crouch beside him.
    Too late. The blond spotted them and fired. His bullet blew the rear tire of a neighboring car with a bang, and Doctor Lachaux let out a terrified yelp, dropping the car key from her shaking fingers. It bounced off the asphalt between her feet and slid under the car.
    Shit.
    Peter crouched down and felt around to grab the key.
    “Sorry,” she whispered. “Sorry… I just…”
    “ Got it ,” he said.
    He looked up at her and saw that she was crying, her whole body tense and curled in on itself as if she was expecting to die at any moment. An option that was entirely too possible. He felt a twinge of guilt at having thrust her into the middle of all this.
    He also saw how wet her blouse was—completely see-through, as he’d predicted. Once he noticed this fact, it was impossible to unnotice.
    Another gunshot hit the side window of the car right next to them.
    “I thought virologists had to have steady hands,” he said, trying