On an ordinary Saturday morning, Robin Cavanaugh’s life takes a wild turn. A wounded man leaps into her car at a traffic light. He refuses to go to the hospital and after he reveals his real name, she realizes she knows him from church. When he swears he’s one of the good guys, Robin abandons common sense to help him. As his condition worsens, she soon learns he’s not really Spike Mc Gee, a criminal but an undercover agent whose life is in danger. His brother, Jack, a doctor, pulls Gray through and soon, Robin is part of the action too. Their love grows under the unlikely conditions and when Gray heads home to visit his mother, Robin comes too. While there, Gray proposes and she accepts but a family tragedy brings them back to Tulsa. Everything hangs in the balance as Gray goes undercover as Spike on last time…if he survives, they can find their happily ever after.
Beneath his mussed hair, his sweat-slimed face relaxed and he offered her a faint grin. “That’s good ’cause I’m not one. I promise you, I’m innocent.”
Wasn’t that what they all said? Trying to sort it all out gave her a headache. Skeptical, Robin parked away from any other vehicles and cut the engine. She faced him. “Let’s see if I understand,” she said, with slow precision. Such an impossible scenario couldn’t be happening. Her reputation and record were washday clean. She had never had a single traffic ticket but now a fugitive from justice might be bleeding to death in her car. “You were pursued by police officers, they shot you, and you don’t want any medical treatment because they’ll report it and then authorities will arrest you.”
Despite his injury and condition, which seemed to have deteriorated since he climbed into the car, he sounded serene. “Yeah, that’s about it.”
Robin lacked calm as words tumbled from her mouth. “What am I supposed to do with you? I know what I am doing — I’m getting my phone out of my purse and calling the police. I can’t help you. I’m a law-abiding citizen.”
A dry, harsh sound burst from his mouth and it took more than a minute to realize he was laughing, even though his bleeding increased.
“Go ahead,” he said in a raspy, thin voice. “They’ll charge you with aiding and abetting a fugitive from justice. It might lessen the charges a little because you called, but the fact is you’ve picked me up and drove around with me in the car. The old innocent until proven guilty thing doesn’t always work. If it did, if I could trust it, I wouldn’t be bleeding into the floorboard. I’m innocent.”