“I dragged you into this.”
“I hate to refute your preconceived notions about me, but I have a mind of my own, Devlin. I’m the one who made the decision to go in there with you.”
He regarded her thoughtfully for a moment. “Yeah, well, thanks for letting me off the hook.”
“I don’t think either of us is off the hook just yet.”
Realizing she was right, that they were wasting precious time, he looked around at their surroundings. “We need to keep moving.”
“Where do we go?”
“Someplace where we can rest, get some sleep and food,” he said. “How well do you know this area?”
“Well enough to know there’s not a soul who will rent rooms to two people whose photos have been flashed on every television station in the county.”
“Is there a motel in the vicinity?”
“There’s a bed-and-breakfast near the state park.” Sighing, she looked around. “I’m not exactly sure where we are, but it’s only a few miles down the road from Signal Research and Development.”
“It can’t be far.”
Her gaze met Zack’s. “We can’t just walk in and check in. The desk clerk will recognize us and have every cop in the county knocking on our door before we can kick off our boots.”
A bit of the old humor came back into his eyes. “Don’t be so sure about that.”
She watched as he untied the satchel from his belt. Sinking into the snow, he opened the bag and removed several items. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“Becoming someone else.”
She watched him dab something onto his palms and slick back his hair. Using the same gel-type substance, he adhered a thin black mustache to his upper lip. Next came the heavy, dark-framed eyeglasses. A clip-on tie.
“My God,” she said. “A disguise.”
“Any self-respecting agent has a quick-change disguise.” Shooting her a smile, he pulled a tube from the satchel and squeezed a small amount onto his palm. “I might need your help with this one.”
Emily crossed to him and knelt. “What is it?”
“Culloden.” When she only continued to stare questioningly at him, he added. “It’s similar to wax. Dries quickly. Perfect for scars.”
He expertly applied the substance to the outside corner of his right eye. Within minutes he had formed a perfect scar.
“How do I look?” he asked, getting to his feet.
Emily couldn’t take her eyes off him. In less than two minutes he’d gone from rough-around-the-edges inmate to nerdy bookworm fresh from some dusty bookstore. “You really are an agent,” she whispered.
He grinned. “Just wait until you see my Johnny Depp impersonation.”
THE LOST CANYON Bed-and-Breakfast was located in a small town not far from the Salmon River. Emily and Zack traveled most of the way via a small frozen creek, their footprints obscured by high grass, jutting rock and sometimes swiftly moving water. Twice they had to take cover when men on snowmobiles edged dangerously close. Both times they’d barely avoided being spotted.
Zack couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so utterly exhausted. His feet were wet and numb. His hands ached with cold and he felt frozen all the way to his bones. He could only imagine how Emily must feel.
“Nice place,” he commented as they approached the rustic grouping of cabins from the rear.
“I wonder if they’ve already been here looking for us,” she said.
“I’m sure they have.” He looked over at her and grimaced. She looked near collapse, if he wanted to be honest about it. Damn, he hated putting her through this. He’d originally planned to disguise Emily, as well, and check in as husband and wife, but he wasn’t sure she had the energy left to do it.
Stopping at a picnic table beneath a stand of ponderosa pines, he turned to her. “I want you to wait here while I check in.”
She collapsed onto the bench. “They’ll recognize that coat you’re wearing.”
He glanced down at the coat. Criminy, he’d nearly forgotten. “I must be getting sloppy.” Quickly he removed the satchel from his belt and pulled out the phony trench coat. It was made of a special fabric that compressed exponentially but never wrinkled. With a single shake he had a full-length trench coat—less the bulk.
“How do I look?” he asked, slipping it onto his shoulders.
“Like a vacuum-cleaner salesman.”
He grinned. “I was going for antiquarian-book connoisseur, but door-to-door salesman will do just fine.” He leaned close and brushed his lips against hers. Even though the contact was light, he felt it like a jolt of electricity charging through his body. Her lips were soft and warm despite the cold, and for an instant Zack thought he was going to fall right into the kiss….
Her expression was startled when he pulled back. “What was that for?” she asked.