Packing Heat by Penny McCall Read Free Book Online

on his meal. And changed the subject. “I do what you want, I get the new evidence, right?”
    “Yes, but there are some ground rules.”
    “Such as?”
    She put her fork down, met his eyes. Making sure he heard her. “I’m in charge,” she said.
    “Nope.”
    “But—”
    He stood, his chair legs screeching over the wooden floor when he shoved it out of the way and walked off.
    “I have to pay . . .” Harmony half rose, then sank back into her seat, smiling at the other diners. “Sorry,” she mumbled, grabbing the lemon meringue pie before she went up front to pay the bill.
    When she got outside, Cole was pacing in the cool evening air, keeping to the gloom at the side of the building. At least her speech about keeping a low profile had sunk in.
    “What’s that?” he asked, pointing to the takeout box in her hand.
    “Dessert.”
    “You’re going to get fat.”
    “It’s a new diet,” she told him, “the irritation diet. I figure as long as I’m around you, I’ll burn enough calories to eat a pound of sugar every day.”
    “You’re an FBI agent,” he said in his own defense.
    “And you don’t trust me, I get it. But you have no idea what’s at stake.”
    “Because you’re holding back. And you don’t trust me, either.”
    “No, I don’t, so I’ll be running this show until you prove I can trust you.”
    “But you don’t have to prove anything to me?”
    “You can still go back to jail and serve out your sentence,” she said. But she wasn’t looking at him.
    Cole turned and saw what she saw, two police officers heading into the restaurant.
    “What’s it going to be,” Harmony said, “me or them?”

chapter 4
    “STATE TROOPERS,” COLE SAID. “HOW DO YOU KNOW they’re looking for us?”
    Harmony sidled over to the window, peering through a couple decades’ worth of grime and the dim lighting inside until she spotted the police officers, standing at the front of the place in a huddle of staffers. “They’re showing around a photo.” Probably hers since Cole bore no resemblance to his mug shot. Then one of the cops lifted his hand to about Cole’s height. Even from there Harmony could see one of the waitress’s eyes light up. “Uh-oh.”
    Cole crowded close to look over her shoulder. “I thought you said they wouldn’t notify the local authorities that one of their agents defected.”
    “This isn’t Russia; I didn’t defect,” she said, her voice rasping out on a soft wheeze because she’d just realized he was all but wrapped around her, a warm, solid, comforting hulk of a man who smelled like a man and felt . . . safe.
    “Why else would they be here?”
    “The warden. According to his file he has a pretty good relationship with the Pennsylvania State Police. He must have alerted them before the Bureau gagged him.”
    “Great, a federal employee with initiative.”
    “Hey, I’m a federal employee.”
    “Not a recommendation in my book.”
    “Maybe you’d prefer those two guys, and whoever they just called in as backup.” Harmony eased away from the window—and from Cole—turning back when she realized he wasn’t behind her. “Look,” she said, “this means the FBI isn’t the only agency after us. We’ll have to avoid the local police. I expected it, but not this soon.”
    “Kind of complicates things.”
    “Not really. Your choice is still pretty simple.”
    “Is it?”
    Harmony shrugged, but after the day he’d had she knew what he was thinking. Seventeen more years in jail couldn’t compete with wide-open spaces and restaurant meals. By the time he said, “We can’t go back to the car,” she’d already managed to suppress a self-satisfied grin. But she didn’t even pretend to agree with him, heading toward the Explorer.
    “Their cruiser is blocking the drive,” Cole said, trying to muscle her off into the darkness.
    “And the parking lot is completely surrounded by trees, I get it,” she said, ducking out of reach, “but if I don’t