Free Reckless Passion by Stephanie James Page B

the guy's been found," Yale announced casually, digging into his sausage.
    "I'll keep an eye on myself," Dara snapped, and then another thought struck her. “Do the police know we were with Hank last night, Sam?"
    "Don't believe he saw any point in mentioning you two," Sam assured her smilingly.
    "Good!" Dara heaved a sigh of relief. A lot of people knew she'd left that party in the company of Yale Ransom. A lot of other people knew she'd been out joyriding on the Interstate and had wound up at a cheap truck-stop motel. If somehow the first group found out what the second group knew via a newspaper story... She winced, it didn't bear thinking about. Eugene was a small town and she wasn't sure how much a stockbroker's reputation could stand. Or an accountant's, for that matter! People didn't tike trusting their hard-earned money to wild and reckless types!
    As if he'd been following her thoughts, Yale smiled cryptically.
    "Worrying about your reputation, or mine?"
    "You take care of yourself and I'll look after myself!" she told him morosely.
    Something wicked glinted in the hazel eyes behind the lenses of Yale's glasses. "The police haven't been told about us, but an enterprising newsperson looking to beef up a tale of interstate smuggling might do a little more research than is absolutely necessary."
    Dara stared at him, stricken.
    "Eat your breakfast, honey," Yale growled, appearing almost contrite at having added to her fears.
    "I think I'm going to be sick," she informed him grandly.

 
     
     
    Five
     
     
    Are you going to sulk for the rest of the weekend?” Yale inquired with apparently detached interest as he opened the door of the Alfa Romeo two hours later and stuffed Dara inside.
    "Why do you care? I'm not going to be spending the weekend with you anyway!"
    He slammed the door shut with a narrow-eyed glance and walked around the hood. In the distance Sam Tyler's truck lumbered up the empty street in search of the Interstate entrance. In a short while Dara would be home. She was extraordinarily grateful for the knowledge.
    "How long do you usually stay in this sort of mood?" Yale asked as he slid behind the wheel.
    "Shut up and take me home."
    "I can't. I don't know where you live."
    Gritting her teeth, Dara gave him directions. As he pulled away from the curb she glanced back down the street at the now silent bar. As long as she lived in Eugene it was going to remain the landmark of her debacle, she decided sadly.
    "I just wish Hank had gone to the cops before we ran into him." She sighed. "And if that wish could be granted, I'd go on to wish that we'd never run into Hank!"
    "Don't blame him for what happened last night. That was strictly between you and me," Yale growled, guiding the car through the quiet morning.
    "But why did he wait until the guy came looking for the stuff before going to the cops?" she persisted. That point bothered her.
    "It wouldn't have been convenient for Hank to go to the police at the time he found the extra cargo,'' Yale said patiently.
    "Why not?"
    "Your curiosity is beginning to return, isn't it?" he noted in a cheerier tone.
    "As you have already pointed out, I'm not in the best of moods this morning. Are you going to answer me or not?''
    Yale sighed. "Hank wasn't anxious to drag the cops into this because he was carrying a hot load."
    "What?" Dara swung around to stare at him in astonishment. "Hank was carrying stolen goods?"
    "No, 'hot goods' means that he was just carrying an unauthorized load. Trucking regulations specify what kinds of goods drivers are allowed to transport. Hank was hoping he could take care of the guy himself and that would be the end of it. But when he and his pal missed snagging the man last night they decided it would be better to haul in the cops. So Hank probably got rid of his cargo—which, incidentally, was a shipment of T.V. sets—and then went to the police with his story."
    "You and he certainly got chummy up there in the front seat while I was