Vineyard Prey by Philip R. Craig

you’re dealing with an amateur or a professional politician who wants the publicity. All of the martyrs who willingly die for the Cause are amateurs. Their leaders, on the other hand, may be very professional. They never die if they can help it. Their job is to get the amateurs to do the glorious killing and dying.
    Kate was supposedly a professional, but her raw emotions when she’d ambushed me were inconsistent with that persona.
    And those emotions had only changed when Joe Begay had insisted that I was to be trusted, and she had acquiesced. Or seemed to.
    And now, three days later, here she was in Vineyard Haven, paying no attention to her surroundings even though she knew that the Easter Bunny was seeking her and might already be on the island. It wasn’t the sort of move a trained professional agent would make. Allowing yourself to be distracted in a war zone is the act of an amateur.
    â€œWhat were you thinking about, anyway?” I asked.
    She lifted her chin. “None of your business.”
    â€œYou may be right. Are you staying up at Joe’s?”
    â€œNone of your business.”
    â€œRight again, I guess. Do you have a car?”
    â€œI have transportation.”
    â€œWhere is it?”
    She hesitated, then nodded toward the town parking lot. “Down there. Don’t try to be protective. I’ve got my eyes open now.”
    On the bright side, my old Toyota was parked in that lot, too. On the dark side, that’s where the man in the green coat had been headed when last seen.
    â€œYour mind isn’t on your work,” I said. “I suggest that you get out of this town. I’ll walk you to your car and make sure no one follows you when you leave.”
    She sniffed a ladylike sniff, but a sniff nevertheless. “And just how will you do that?”
    â€œBy following him in my own car if he follows you, and making sure he knows I’m there. I doubt if the Bunny wants to be caught between two enemy cars. I think he’ll drop the tail.”
    She almost rolled her eyes. “Ye gods! You’re not armed and you’re not trained for this work. You’re more a danger to me and yourself than to him.”
    I nodded. “Maybe. But he doesn’t know that. I might be the second coming of James Bond, as far as he’s concerned.”
    â€œHa!” But she was sweeping the street with her eyes. “All right, let’s go. I’ve already made an idiot of myself once. I can’t afford to do it again.”
    â€œWe’re just old friends who happened to bump into each other,” I said. “Come on, we’ll walk down to the parking lot. Did you notice that the police station fronts on the lot? A gambling man might think that was a plus for our side.”
    â€œI did notice that. I parked as near to the station as I could get.”
    We crossed the street and walked down the alley beside the movie theater. As we went, I was looking for the man, and when we came into the parking lot I put a hand on Kate’s arm and stopped her while I surveyed the lot for sign of him.
    He wasn’t in sight and we went on to Kate’s car, which turned out to be a rental. I wondered if the Easter Bunny had followed her into town and knew what she was driving. I asked her.
    â€œNo one followed me,” she said coolly. “I know how to spot a tail and there wasn’t any.”
    â€œThe guy was with you in the bookstore,” I said.
    â€œHe might have been an ordinary guy on the make.”
    I suspected that she’d had experience with such guys.
    â€œMy truck is right down there between here and the street,” I said. “You pull out and I’ll wave byebye. If anyone follows you, I’ll be on him like ugly on an ape before you get out of town.”
    â€œYou islanders have quaint turns of phrase,” said Kate. She got into the driver’s seat, backed out of the parking place, and drove away. I waved