Undercover Memories by Alice Sharpe

you’re accepting responsibility you don’t deserve,” he said, “but thanks for the gesture. And I promise you, nothing like that will ever happen again.”
    “We’ve had a strange relationship right from the start,” she said slowly. Staring at him, a thought occurred that hadn’t before. “Lone Tree is only about fifty miles from here, right?” she added.
    “I think so.”
    “I’m driving you,” she said firmly, and held up a hand to still his protest. “Don’t argue. You can’t get on a bus or hitchhike or take a train—someone will recognize you. It’s only an hour drive for me. But first I have to go upstairs and at least leave a note for Katy so she doesn’t freak out when she hears the radio.”
    “What about the police?”
    “I think I should get you back to Lone Tree before I call them. Might save on answering some really hard questions. I’ll be back in a minute. Katy is usually home at this time of the day, but you never know.”
    “I’m coming with you,” he said.
    “Do you think that’s a good idea? Wouldn’t it be better to stay out of sight?”
    “You’ve forgotten about Anatola Korenev,” he said softly.
    “But he doesn’t know where I live,” she said.
    “If he listens to the radio, he can figure it out after that last report.”
    “But how could he get off the mountain before us?”
    “I don’t know. Maybe he didn’t. Do you want to bet your life on it?”
    “No.”
    He flipped open his vest and pulled the gun from its holster. “The media says I’m a bodyguard. Time I earned my keep.” He pulled the cowboy hat down low on his forehead and opened his door. “Stay behind me.”
    * * *
    T HE APARTMENT BUILDING WAS relatively new but it had zero security at the front door that opened directly into a hallway. Paige lived on the ground floor at the end of the left passage. At the sight of her front door standing wide open, Paige broke into a run and avoided John’s grab for her arm as she ran past him.
    “Katy?” she screamed.
    John arrived a microsecond after her, swearing internally. It seemed Paige was determined to face every horrific sight before he could possibly shield her. But this time, although chaos abounded, there didn’t seem to be a dead, mutilated body anywhere.
    “Let me check the bedrooms,” he said, and she backed up against the wall and stood there, eyes wide with fear at what he might discover.
    John stepped over half-empty boxes and stacks of clothes, dishes, books and everything in between. Had Korenev been here, searching for something to help him find Paige or John?
    The first bedroom held nothing but two boxes stacked in the corner and taped shut. The adjoining bathroom was equally clean. The next bedroom was even more frenzied than the living area; ditto for the bathroom.
    He put his gun away and walked into the living area, where he hastily assured Paige her sister wasn’t dead or injured somewhere else in the apartment. She sagged at the knees with relief and stepped over things to meet him in the middle of the mess.
    “What if Korenev came in here and took her?” she said.
    John put his arms around her, and she buried her head against his chest for a second. “I have to call the police,” she mumbled into his jacket. “I’ll have to tell them everything I know. I have to get Katy back. I’m sorry.”
    He tilted her chin up and gazed into her moist eyes, drawing his fingers across her cheeks to wipe away the tears. “Of course you do. Don’t worry—”
    “What the hell is going on?” a female voice interrupted from the hallway. John looked over Paige’s head. In one glance he took in a slightly taller, slightly younger version of Paige dressed in tight jeans and a yellow halter top, holding a large roll of plastic tape.
    Paige turned at the sound of the voice. “Katy!” she screamed, and ran toward her sister, jumping over the worst of the mess. “I was so afraid. Thank heavens you’re okay.”
    The two women hugged,