Running Scared by Elizabeth Lowell

From the Publisher

In the scorching heat of the Southwestern desert, a frightened old man knows his time is quickly running out . . . as the lethal secret he protects can be hidden no longer.

Risa Sheridan knows everything about gold—its mysteries, its allure, its perils. Her boss, Shane Tannahill—owner of the ultra-successful Las Vegas gambling mecca, the Golden Fleece—is addicted to the stuff. Now an ancient Celtic piece is being offered to Shane for his collection, with the promise of more to come, and the casino owner is hooked. But though she shares Shane's enthusiasm, Risa is wary—because something about this particular artifact is mysterious and troubling, something that says "stay away." It is a voice that should be heeded, because soon people are dying all around them. And whether it's an ancient curse that has taken hold of their lives or the simple, murderous greed of unscrupulous adversaries, there is suddenly no place in the surreal, blinding glitter of Vegas for Risa and Shane to hide . . .

The most dazzling, spine-tingling combination of adventure, thrills, and sensuality yet from the gold standard in contemporary suspense fiction.

Publishers Weekly

Who would have thought there'd be a market for retro kitsch la Remington Steel, complete with two protagonists fighting their attraction for each other as well as dumber-than-doorpost crooks? Apparently, Lowell, whose long string of romantic suspense novels (Moving Target, etc.) have earned her a Romance Writers of America Lifetime Achievement Award. This latest involves antiques, druid gold and psychic powers and is set primarily in post-mob Las Vegas with side trips to Sedona, Ariz. Risa Sheridan is a consultant for Rarities Unlimited, hired by casino mogul Shane Tannahill to find something spectacular to display at a New Year's Eve opening bash for his new gallery. It looks like Risa's hit pay dirt when she comes across some gold druid pieces that a WWII vet purloined from Wales during the war. But there are complications. Risa's childhood friend Cherelle, a faux psychic who goes by the name of Lady Faulkner, had been scamming the vet and is now in pursuit of the gold, too. Then there are Shane's rival casino bosses, who are looking for something to frame him with so they can edge him out of the picture. Can they somehow use the discovery of druid loot to achieve that end? Lowell's research is thorough, but it's often presented awkwardly, with copious information on authenticating antique jewelry as well as slightly more interesting background on druidic lore. The narrative is formulaic from start to finish: will any reader not guess that after Shane warns her away for safety's sake, Risa still dangerously goes for the gold solo in the end? An all-talk wrap-up takes the edge off the action, but Lowell's readers will be more interested in the romance, anyway. 7-city author tour. (One-day laydown Apr. 30) Copyright 2002 Cahners Business Information.

Library Journal

Curator Risa Sheridan knows old gold. Her boss, Shane Tanahill, owner of the Las Vegas casino the Golden Fleece, wants only the best for his Druid Gold show. When an old friend from Risa's unhappy past breezes into town loaded down with the stuff, people pop out of the woodwork, each wanting a piece of the action and willing to kill for it. This is the second Rarities, Inc. novel from Lowell so there is a familiar background cast to help keep the good guys in line. Carrington MacDuffie has a sweetness of voice that adds the right elements of romance to the plot without sacrificing the harder edge of the story. Though MacDuffie has a tendency to overemote and her Irish accent needs work, her smooth delivery makes for overall pleasant listening. For larger libraries and Lowell collections.-Jodi L. Israel, MLS, Jamaica Plain, MA Copyright 2003 Reed Business Information.

Kirkus Reviews

Ancient Celtic gold has everyone running in circles. Just one look at the priceless treasure is enough to send a shiver down the spine of Risa Sheridan, antiquities expert with the exclusive appraisal firm of Rarities Unlimited. She alone knows that the runes and symbols engraved on the artifacts and jewelry have the power to heal-or harm. What she doesn't know: their provenance. And, being dead, the owner can't tell her where he dug it up. Pvt. Virgil O'Connor stumbled across the treasure while wandering in a Druid grove in Wales during WWII. He smuggled it back to the States and later found that it brought him only bad luck and a lifetime case of the heebie-jeebies that nothing could cure-though Cherelle Faulkner certainly tried. She's Risa's childhood friend and fellow survivor of trailer-park foster homes, and she's been conning poor old Virgil for a while, pretending to be his spirit guide. Thus the gold falls into her hands after his death, though she has no idea of its antiquity or worth. But Las Vegas mogul and multimillionaire Shane Tannahill collects Celtic tchochkes and, boy, does he want these, hoping to feature the treasure in a blockbuster exhibition at the Golden Fleece, his Vegas entertainment complex, if Risa can just verify its authenticity. Enter assorted lowlifes and criminals, all with Damon Runyonesque names and personalities, who heist some of the treasure. The chase, natch, is on. Will Shane fall for Risa's enigmatic intelligence and merely physical charms? Should Risa give her heart to him or to Niall, the broodingly handsome owner of Rarities Unlimited? And will bad girl Cherelle do the right thing in the end? Fast-moving romantic suspenser that gets off to agood start, but the Keystone Kops-like complications are just plain silly. From the indefatigable author of similar tales of priceless art and improbable crooks (Moving Target, 2001, etc.).

Product Details

• Table of Contents
• Interviews & Essays
• Read an Excerpt

Table of Contents

Interviews & Essays

Since both books feature the pursuit of beautiful and valuable objects, and the involvement of the exclusive firm of Rarities Unlimited, Heart to Heart took the opportunity to ask Elizabeth Lowell more about this exciting collection of books, how they got started, and where they are headed.

Heart to Heart: Die in Plain Sight and Running Scared are part of your Rarities cycle of books, which began with Moving Target. How did you get the idea for this series?

Elizabeth Lowell: I wanted to find a backdrop against which I could write several books. As I had just finished the fourth in the Donovan cycle, I was ready to write about something besides a big family. In my research into various beautiful and culturally valuable things, I came across businesses that either appraised, insured, guarded, or purchased some of the things that interested me. I thought, Why not create a company whose motto is "Buy, Sell, Appraise, Protect"? Rarities Unlimited was born in that moment. Then I had the fun of creating the people who would inhabit the world of Rarities, a world that was ripe for intrigue, danger, and suspense.

HtoH: Is this interest in antiques and collectibles a personal interest?

EL: Absolutely. I don't write books about things that bore me. Impressionist landscapes, such as those that appear in Die in Plain Sight, have always fascinated me. They have a freedom and energy that I love. That's why my husband and I collect Impressionist landscapes from living painters. (We certainly can't afford the dead ones!) Sometimes the objects I write about are rare. Sometimes they're beautiful. Sometimes, as in Running Scared, they are both. When I first saw Celtic gold objects, I was haunted by how much of the past we had lost. Then I started thinking about what people would do to own such beautiful, ancient things. After that, it wasn't long before I had a story about fear, greed, time, and murder.

HtoH: How do you research such diverse treasures as gold, California Impressionism, and rare manuscripts?

EL: Because I've always been interested in gems, artifacts, and civilizations, and I once lived in the southern California I write about in Die in Plain Sight, much of the research comes from a lifetime of reading and just plain being. I love learning new things, so once I select a specific object to be the center of a mystery, I buy books, read articles, go to museums, and search the Internet. You would be amazed at what is out there. If I need additional input, I go to experts such as C. M. Johns, to whom Running Scared is dedicated.

HtoH: Will there be more coming in the Rarities series?

EL: The book I'm working on now, The Color of Death, isn't a Rarities or Donovan book. My editor suggested that I take advantage of the creative freedom of a different backdrop, and I'm doing just that. The idea I'm playing with for the book after that doesn't share any of my previous backdrops, either. I don't know yet if the idea will gel. It's hard enough getting one book researched and written without looking two, three, or four books (and years) down the road.

HtoH: Breakneck suspense and unexpected plot turns are one of the trademarks of your books. How do you plot the pace?

EL: Short answer: I don't know. Long answer: I still don't know. Yes, I have a synopsis of sorts when I begin writing, but it's more of an overview than a true outline. I think of creating a book as finding and pushing a lot of boulders to the top of a steep hill; that's the work of setting up the characters and background facts that must go into the first 150 pages of the book. As soon as I've set that up, I give one of the boulders a big shove and run to the next one and the next and the next, until they are all bouncing and racing down the hill.

After that, it's a matter of chasing all the boulders and keeping them going until the last one stops rolling at the bottom of the hill and I write THE END. (Picture poor author panting and exhausted at the bottom of a hill, praying that no more boulders are left to chase or dodge!) Then I find a different hill, different boulders, and start the whole process all over again.

Read an Excerpt

Chapter One

Los Angeles
Friday, October 31
Morning

Even though Risa Sheridan was only an occasional consultant to the international firm of Rarities Unlimited, she didn't resent flying from Las Vegas to Los Angeles for a few hours of work. She never knew what treasures a client might have brought to the company's headquarters so that Rarities could "Buy, Sell, Appraise, Protect." All she could be certain of was that whatever she would be inspecting was at least four hundred years old -- and usually much older -- because ancient jewelry was her specialty.

Risa's feeling of anticipation flattened when she looked through the double glass doors that led to Rarities' offices; Shane Tannahill was already on the other side of the bulletproof glass. Despite the fact that she had left Las Vegas before he did, her boss had beaten her to Los Angeles.

Shane had one of his hands tucked into a pocket of his black slacks. The other hand anchored the soft leather jacket he had slung over one shoulder. A visitor's badge hung on a chain around his neck. Angular face impassive, jade green eyes narrowed, dark hair neatly trimmed, he lounged against the guard desk. Waiting for her.

He wasn't a patient man.

Bloody L.A. traffic, she said silently.

It wasn't her fault that her plane had been held on the ground in Vegas for a security check. Then in L.A. a semi truck hauling gasoline had turned over on Sepulveda, blocking the easiest exit from the airport and thoroughly screwing up the city's already overburdened surfacestreets.

And making her late.

Risa's pulse might have kicked with more than irritation when she spotted Shane, but her steps didn't hesitate or quicken. Nor did she check that her short black hair was smoothly in place and her unstructured blue jacket was hanging straight. Other women might have licked their lips for that extra shine or sucked in their belly or stuck out their chest to look their best for Shane Tannahill.

Not Risa.

She had fought to get where she was. She loved her job as curator of gold objects for the Golden Fleece, Shane's Las Vegas entertainment complex. She wasn't going to lose everything she had worked for simply because of his handsome face and killer grin. Better that she rub her boss the wrong way than the right.

Shane's work ethic was simple and inflexible: no lying, no cheating, no stealing, and no sex. He didn't touch the female employees. End of subject. But if a woman didn't want to accept that and he was interested in an affair, he would find her another job. Only then would a good time be had by all.

No matter how intelligent, appealing, rich, and maddening Shane might be, Risa wanted her job more than she wanted to do laps around the sex track with any man. Even one of the few who had ever really interested her.

It's the forbidden fruit thing, Risa told herself briskly. No man is that sexy after you wake up with him. Or without him, more likely.

The guard released the automatic locks for Risa. The door swung open.

She gave the uniformed man a bright smile. "Good morning, Jersey. How's the thumb?"

Jersey, who was about seven feet of muscle and bone, blushed. "Who told you?"

"Mmmm" was all she said. She didn't want Shane to know how often she and S.K. Niall chatted. Shane was friendly with the two heads of Rarities, but that friendship didn't slop over into business. Shane wouldn't be pleased knowing that his curator talked several times a week with Niall -- Rhymes with kneel, boyo. I'm not a bloody river. At the moment the Golden Fleece didn't have enough business with Rarities to justify such frequent communications. But Risa was lonely, and Niall was safely involved with Dana Gaynor, the other head of Rarities.

"I can't believe I slammed my thumb in the desk drawer," Jersey muttered.

"Yeah, Dana really ought to wear a warning bell when she walks around," Risa sympathized, fighting a smile.

Shane didn't bother to fight it. He flashed the kind of grin that made men and women alike blink and draw closer, as though to a fire.

Jersey's blush deepened.

"You'll get used to Dana's walk," Risa said. She tossed her purse on a moving belt like those at an airport checkpoint and strolled through the metal detector's field without setting off a single buzz. "All the men do. Eventually."

"Uh, yes'm." But Jersey was shaking his head while he watched the screen that displayed the contents of Risa's purse. Nothing but the usual. The metal alarm didn't quiver. The nitrate alarm didn't go off. Neither did any of the other chemical alarms. Not that he expected anything like that to happen -- not with a consultant. But he wasn't paid to make personal judgments. He was paid to put everyone who walked in those doors through the scanners, and that included Dana Gaynor and S.K. Niall.

Shane took Risa's purse as it popped out the other end of the scanner. He tossed it to her with a quickness that had caught more than one person off guard.

She snagged her purse with a deceptively lazy movement of her arm. He wasn't the only one with good reflexes. "Thanks." She turned to Jersey. "Anything else?"

"Just this." He handed her a staff pass dangling on a long neck chain. "New rules."

She put on the chain and the colorful bit of plastic that stated she was a consultant. "Since when?"

Shane answered before Jersey could. "Since someone threatened half of Rarities Unlimited."

"Dana was threatened?" Risa asked, startled.

"No. Niall."

"Whew," Risa said, blowing out a breath. Besides being a friend, Niall was half owner and head...