Deadly Race by Margaret Daley Page A

first place made her even more wary of Slade Calvert.
    She tried to picture him in a three-piece business suit, working behind a desk, and running a computer firm. She couldn’t. All she could see was him dressed in camouflage and combat boots and surrounded by the mountainous terrain of the jungle. She couldn’t fit him into the mold of an executive and that worried her tremendously. She had been fooled once by a man and had paid the price emotionally. She, too, learned from her mistakes.
    “I think this time we’re ready to leave,” he said when the job of hiding the plane was finished.
    Ellie looked up through the tree branches at the sun high in the sky. “We won’t have a lot of time to put much distance between us and this place.”
    “Not as much as I’d like, but it’ll have to do. It’s all we have.”
    “I’d say that’s a practical approach.”
    “I believe in being practical. Fantasies can only get you into trouble.”
    “But they are so much fun to dream.”
    “What are your fantasies, Ellie?” Slade lifted the duffel bag and handed her the blankets to carry. “Fame? Fortune?”
    “Neither. I want to make a difference with my life.”
    “How?”
    “I haven’t figure that out yet. There was a time I wanted to get married and have a family.”
    “But not now.”
    “I’ve seen too much for that to be a fantasy anymore.”
    “You don’t daydream? That’s hard to believe.”
    “Oh, I daydream, but not about getting married.” She held up her hand. “And don’t ask me about my daydreams. A gal has got to have some secrets.” She wanted to get off the subject of her and her daydreams, which she guarded. She had told him more than she had most people. If the truth were known, she still fantasized about having a family, but reality had a way of making a person stop believing. “Tell me, when you go to work do you wear a gray, three-piece suit?”
    His brow knitted. “Sometimes. Why?” He started forward.
    “Oh, I don’t know. I’m trying to imagine you sitting behind a desk, giving orders, running a company. It’s hard to, under the circumstances.” She fell into step behind him as they began their journey toward the tall mountain that stood between them and the coast.
    Ellie realized she loved to travel and did as much as she could, but rarely had she been in a hot, humid climate without the prospects of returning to an air-conditioned hotel room. Consequently as the hours ticked away, she felt more and more out of her element. Normally that would be okay, because she loved the unknown. But something told her this unknown territory could get her killed.
    Sweat trickled down into her eyes and burned them. She constantly wiped at her face and licked her lips. Her throat was parched, and she would die for a tall, cold glass of water with big chunks of ice in it. Her muscles stiffened in protest, and her head continued to throb like the beat of a drum, a deep bass one. As she followed Slade into areas of dense undergrowth with nothing to cut a path, the branches of trees and bushes clawed at her skin that was quickly turning red from the relentless sun. She pictured herself looking like a baked lobster by the end of the day, and realized years of avoiding overexposure to the sun were going to be ruined after this short trek.
    After traveling for four hours, mostly in silence because carrying on any kind of conversation took more energy than Ellie had, she finally asked, “Can we stop for a moment?”
    “Only a little farther. I hear the sound of water.”
    “Water?” Just the mention of the word sent her heartbeat racing in anticipation. She came alive, hurrying her steps behind Slade until she almost ran into him.
    When she broke through the jungle foliage, she saw the rushing river, its muddy water filled with debris and above all not looking very thirst quenching. Ellie wanted to do something thoroughly childish, like stomp her foot in frustration and cry. Where were those