On the Run Read online

  On the Run

  by Paul Westwood

  Copyright 2013 Paul Westwood

  Published at Smashwords

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  I took the risk of walking on foot. It was hot. Not that I was surprised by the heat since I was in the desert, on one of those little state freeways that wound its way to Vegas. The sun was a blazing ball of orange, just now beginning to dip on the horizon, which seemed like a thousand miles away. A few cars had passed by, but in these days of sensation and worry, no one was willing to pick up a scruffy hitchhiker with a three day beard. But I knew I had to get to the next town and inside since nights out in the desert turned cold. I also wasn’t ready to sleep in the sand with the rattlesnakes and scorpions.

  Hearing the rumble of an approaching vehicle, I turned my head. To my relief it was just an oncoming white van. The driver was hidden by the glare of the sun. It passed me and slowed to a stop. I saw a New York license plate. With rusty wheel wells and a faded plumbing logo on the side, it wasn’t much of a vehicle. But it beat walking.

  I ran up to the passenger window which rolled down.

  “Was that your car back there?” the woman inside asked. Her voice was smooth with only a hint of an eastern accent.

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said with surprise since I had expected some gruff workman to go with the rough exterior of the van.

  She was a thinnish creature, though not overly petite, somewhere in her late twenties or early thirties. Her hair was dirty blonde, cut almost boyishly short, and the blue eyes revealed an innate intelligence. The tiny mouth and narrow head would be too wide for a fashion model, but still the parts were put together beautifully. I had that moment of shock that only happens a few times in life – love at first sight. This was a woman that men could easily fall in love with, and continue to love over the years, even if it meant heartache and sorrow. I was almost afraid of her. She reeked of sexual danger that made my heart beat fast and hard.

  “Why didn’t you use your cellphone and call for a tow?” she asked.

  As she talked, I could see fine pointed teeth underneath her pale lips. I could imagine her nibbling on my ear or biting my neck.

  I pulled my phone from out of my front pocket. I held it up and said, “The battery ran out this morning. So I had to walk.”

  She hit a switch on the driver’s door and the lock plungers clicked upwards. “Get on in,” the woman said. “I’ll give you a lift to the next gas station.”

  I clambered in, setting my duffel bag by my feet. After I had shut the door, we were off. She drove fast, steering the heavy van with practiced ease. It was hot in here. A trickle of warm air leaked out from the vents. Looking over my shoulder, I saw the area behind us was partitioned off by a metal grate to protect the driver from any errant cargo. Lying on the floor was a narrow mattress covered with a pile of blankets. On the metal windowless walls were suitcases hanging on hooks. This luggage swayed back and forth with the movement of the vehicle.

  Through the back windows, I saw something that gave my heart a start. It was a black Lincoln, built back in the days when Detroit still made massive land yachts for cruising the highways. It was coming up fast behind us. I had seen this same car back in Santa Fe and knew it was nothing trouble. Had the driver seen me get picked up? If so, there was going to be bloodshed.

  “What’s your name?” she asked, interrupting my thoughts of dread.

  “James,” I managed to choke back. “The last name is Warren.”

  I watched as the Lincoln sped by us, continuing on until it disappeared ahead. I let out a sigh of relief.

  “That car is going to get a ticket,” she commented. “Anyway, I’m called Cat. You know, short for Catherine, which sounds so terribly old-fashioned these days.”

  “Please to meet you, Cat. Aren’t you afraid of picking up strange men on the highway?”

  “Not really,” she replied. With a sudden movement, she pulled out a little handgun – a Colt - which quickly disappeared again, apparently resting against her left thigh.

  I had my own gun, a Browning automatic, in my duffel bag. I didn’t tell her about it. Instead, I licked my lips and felt the cracked lines with my tongue. I said, “Don’t worry about me, I’m harmless enough. I see you are traveling for the long haul. Where are you headed?”

  She let out a little laugh which sounded like music to my ears. “It’s a long story,” she said.

  I leaned into the seat, feeling the heat of the cloth bite into my back. “It’s twenty miles to next gas station. We’ve got plenty of time for a story.”

  Cat shot me a shy smile that revealed a fine pattern of laugh lines on her pale face. They gave her character and an honest beauty. The heat inside her felt like an oven. She was sweating through her thin t-shirt. I could tell, like me, that she wasn’t used to this climate. She said, “I’m afraid I’m running back home with my tail between my legs.”

  “Something didn’t work out?”

  “You bet it didn’t work out. I traveled from California to New York City almost three years ago, expecting to strike it big on Broadway. I ended up working as a waitress, living in a cockroach infested apartment, and getting a few bit parts in some independent productions. It was hardly the life I expected.”

  “Why New York?” I asked. “It seems that Hollywood is a tad closer than traveling all the way across the nation.”

  With a shake of her head, Cat said, “Ever since I was a little girl, I was into plays and musicals. I guess I never had much interest in films or television. So that’s why I went there. Now I’m driving back to Bakersfield to go live with my aunt. I’m hoping I can straighten out my life and find something interesting to do.”

  “Fair enough,” I said with a nod.

  “How about you? What are you running from?”

  “Me?” I snapped back with a shake of my head. “Nothing.”

  “You’re not a very good liar,” Cat said. “I saw how you reacted when that Lincoln drove by. Someone is looking for you, aren’t they? You’re not a wanted outlaw or anything like that?”

  I pulled my gaze from her and instead turned my attention to the rolling landscape. There was nothing to look at but sand and rocks. I finally said, “I’m a detective.”

  “You mean you work for the police?” she asked, the tone of her voice one of distrust.

  “No, nothing like that. I’m a private investigator working in Miami. I used to be a cop, but didn’t like the brass telling me what to do. I got into the position where I had to quit or else they would have fired me.”

  “I see. You’re a long way from home. So now you work hiding in bushes, trying to catch women cheating on their husbands?”

  “Something like that,” I said with a chuckle. “Of course cheating goes both ways. I don’t like doing divorce cases but for a man in my profession, they’re still the bread and butter. Sometimes something more interesting comes up, which is a blessing, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to handle the job for long.”

  Cat seemed content with my answer.

  I continued on, “A few weeks ago I had a woman named Carmen Salvatore come in. She wanted me to find evidence that her husband was having an affair. At the time, I didn’t think much of it and took the case. Little did I know that her husband, Adrian, is a captain in the local mob. It was easy enough to figure out
that he was seeing a stripper from one of the downtown clubs. I got pictures of Adrian meeting with her and then taking her to a hotel. I also got a picture of him at the hotel door, talking to another man. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but that other man has to be someone important. Anyway, other than the photo of the man, I turned the photos over to the wife, fully expecting her to go through with a divorce.”

  “It all sounds rather seedy,” she commented. “Why do you think that other man that this Adrian met is important?”

  “I don’t know, but after I gave Carmen the pictures, I was visited at my office by two hoods. They worked for Adrian. They tried to kidnap me. I had to shoot one of them to make my escape. I managed to get to my car and run for it, packing whatever I could from what was in the office. I didn’t even stop home to pick anything up, I just started driving, trying to put as much distance between myself and Miami as I could.”

  “You’ve put on a lot of miles. How are they keeping track of where you are?”

  I shrugged. “I gave it some thought. The mob in Miami must have someone working for them in law enforcement since every time I used a credit card, I ended up being picked up by someone. I had to stop using the plastic, relying on what little cash I had. As you can see, I eventually ran of gas. I was hoping to make it to Vegas and get lost in the crowd.”

  Cat took her eyes off the road long enough to raise a skeptical eyebrow in my direction. She said, “I’ve heard lots of stories in my time, but yours takes the cake. You’re trying to con me, aren’t you? Look, I don’t have much money myself. I mean take a look at this van. Do you think I’m rolling in the green stuff?”

  In aggravation, I fumbled for the wallet resting in my back pocket. “Look, I can prove that I’m a detective. I have a license.”

  She shook her head. “You could show me anything, but it could be a forgery or who knows what. Look, I’ll drive you to the next town, okay? Just don’t go asking me for money.”

  “Fine,” I shot back, trying to keep my voice cold and level. No one likes being called a liar. For the next few minutes there was an uneasy feeling in the air as if a wall had been built in between us.

  When she next spoke, the tone of her voice was conciliatory, as if offering a truce. “James, I’m sorry if I seem so jaded. Working with a bunch of theater types in New York City makes you suspicious. I couldn’t tell you how many times I’ve heard someone go on about their big plans for a show, or try to get me into bed on the promise of giving me a lead in their production.” She smiled to herself, perhaps reliving some old memory. “I’ve heard it all.”

  “Well I’m not making it up. Whoever is driving that Lincoln is after me. I would prefer it if you could drop me off in big enough town where I could lose him.”

  She made a face, sticking her tongue out just enough so it brushed against her upper lip. “It’s a small detour, but would Vegas work?”

  I thought about this. Las Vegas was my original destination since it had an ever moving population of tourists, hucksters, and conmen. It would be easy to get lost in the crowd. I could draw out some more money from my account and disappear before the Mafia had a chance to get me. From there I could get to California or maybe catch a flight to Europe. It wasn’t the best plan, but it was better than walking on the side of the road.

  “I’ll take your offer,” I said. What other choice did I have?

  We zipped by a gas station that was lit up with neon. The sun was almost gone now; just a faint smear of orange along the horizon. Cat turned on the headlights. The beams broke across the road, leaving temporary imprints along the black asphalt. The previous colors and rolling terrain of the desert disappeared into a black empty void. We could have been travelers on some alien planet; the only humans for millions of miles.

  Covering her mouth with the back of her hand, Cat let out a yawn. “Look, James, I’ve been traveling all day. I need to get some sleep.”

  “I can take over driving,” I suggested.

  She said uneasily, “It’s not that I don’t trust you, but I would hate to fall asleep and wake up somewhere I don’t want to be. I’ll find a place to pull over and I can sleep in the back. You can take the front here. Since I will have the keys, and can lock myself inside, you won’t be able to get to me. How does that sound?”

  “Do I have any choice?” I asked, not expecting an answer.

  “Not unless you want to start walking again,” she replied with a sweet smile.

  A few miles later and Cat found a spot to turn off. It was an old service road that led off into the brush. The headlights bounced along the rutted road. The dark shadows of cactuses almost looked like standing people. Once we reached a low rock outcropping, she turned the wheel and slowed to a cautious pace. The wheels bounced and dipped, making it feel like my teeth were going to fall out. Once Cat was satisfied, she killed the engine and pulled the key out of the ignition. It was so quiet that I could hear the breath escape from her lips.

  “Here we are,” she stated. Without a further word, she opened the door and slipped outside. With the disappearance of the sun, it was remarkably colder.

  I said loudly, “Any chance I could get one of your blankets?”

  The back doors opened and the van rocked as she got inside. “Sure, it’s no problem. I have plenty.”

  We spent the next few minutes preparing to sleep: the call of nature and I even had a chance to use a bottle of her mouthwash. When everything was said and done, Cat shut the back doors and clambered onto her little bed. I was sitting up in the passenger seat, trying to find a comfortable position on the worn vinyl..

  A few moments of time crept by. I was acutely aware that there was a beautiful woman only a few feet behind me. As she wrestled with the covers, I could feel her every movement. I could hear her breathe. I could smell her odor: sweat and sex. I could tell this was going to be a long night of frustration and thoughts of what could have been.

  I was about to get up and walk outside; a chance to collect my thoughts before returning to the warmth of the van, when she spoke.

  Her voice was low and sensual, the words dripping out like honey. “Can’t sleep?”

  “No,” I replied, my throat felt constricted as if filled with gravel.

  “Then why don’t you turn around and watch?”

  The moon had risen, sending a weak, pale sheen through the windows. I craned my head past the headrest and looked through the metal grate that separated us. Cat had the blanket pulled down, exposing her breasts. In the light of the moon, they looked perfectly white and smooth, except for the raised and hardened nipples. She was a well-endowed woman, but not overripe. As I watched, she pushed the blanket further down, revealing the taut stomach of someone who danced for a living. I could feel my heart beating in my chest and hear the sound of blood rushing in my head.

  “Do you like what you see?” she asked, her voice serious, but with a playful undercurrent.

  “Very much,” I replied. I was afraid to say too much in fear of breaking the spell. When moments like this come, they are special. If you do something wrong, the moment can be forever broken. This was one bit of magic that I wished could go on forever.

  She gave a little smile before pulling the blanket aside. Now I could see all of her: the lovely hair that practically shone in the moonlight, the graceful neck, the chest, the lovely arms, the flat stomach, the small triangle of pubic hair, and the long, toned legs.

  “Would you like to come here?” she asked.

  I felt the animal urge flowing through my loins, destroying any other thought in my mind. “Yes,” I said, louder than I intended.

  “Maybe I will let you,” she said with a laugh. “And maybe I won’t.”

  “Please,” I croaked out, feeling as if my lust would break my body in half.

  She gave another laugh, but not one that was cruel. “I was just kidding, James. The backdoor is unlocked.”

  I was out and onto the ground, moving as quickly as I could. In a few long
strides, I was at the back doors, which thankfully swung open. I pulled myself inside, shutting the doors as I went.

  She was there on her knees to greet me. Her arms wrapped around my waist and her face upturned to meet mine in a kiss. As we embraced, it seemed as if her body was on fire; that’s how hot the skin seemed compared to the cold of the night desert air.

  We kissed. At first her lips were cool and remote. But after just a few pecks, she parted her mouth and slid her tongue against mine. It felt like an electric shock. In the meanwhile, our hands explored each other’s bodies. Her body felt as good as it looked – taut and well-muscled, but still with more than enough femininity to keep me aroused. Within moments Cat was grappling with my shirt and pulled it over my head. She then did the same to my pants, leaving me with only my underwear on. After that, she pulled me down onto the bed, pulling the covers over the both of us.

  A few more lingering kisses and then Cat disappeared under the covers. She kissed my neck and then my chest, inching lower and lower. I wriggled with pleasure, my hands running through her hair which brushed lightly against my skin. After kissing my stomach, she paused above my pelvis, as if tantalizing me further with the possibility of what would happen next. She suddenly pulled down my underwear and began to suck on my hard manhood.

  Cat was an expert, licking and sucking the tip while keeping a constant stroking motion going on my shaft with one hand. The other hand gently caressed my balls.

  The pleasure was so intense that I tensed my legs, expecting to come any moment. When she sensed this she slowed down, making sure I lasted a little longer.

  Cat suddenly stopped. “Now, now,” she breathed out, “Save some of it for me, darling.”

  I nodded, breathing hard. “Yes, ma’am,” I managed to say between gasps.

  She let out a little laugh and then whipped the covers off. Before I could say or do anything, Cat had turned around, lowering her rear on to my face. She proceeded to suck on my cock again while I was confronted by her pale backside that was only inches away. I stuck my tongue out and began to lick the lips of her pussy. It tasted surprisingly sweet with only the faintest flavor of sweat. I slipped a finger inside, moving it slowly and rhythmically. She moaned, which only made me work harder and faster. Her body gave a shudder that rocked her body so hard that Cat had to stop her own work.