by Angi Morgan
Jack held his breath as he watched the blonde, afraid she might do something crazy like decide to take her chances and run. He wouldn’t have blamed her. For all she knew, he could have been in on the abduction and was holding her here until the men in the van came back for her.
The driver of the van braked next to the open doorway. The engine sat idling. Jack waited for the sound of a door opening. He’d put the gun into the back waistband of his jeans before he’d grabbed the blonde, thinking the gun might frighten her. As much as he wanted to pull it now, he talked himself out of it.
At least for the moment. He didn’t want to get involved in any gunplay—especially with the young woman here. He’d started carrying the gun when he’d worked for his father and had to take the day’s proceeds to a bank drop late at night. It was a habit he’d gotten used to even after he’d quit. Probably because of the type of people who worked with his father.
After what seemed like an interminable length of time, the van driver pulled away.
Jack let out the breath he’d been holding. “Come on. I’ll see that you get someplace safe where you can call the police,” he said and held out his hand.
She hesitated before she took it. They moved through the dark shadows of the alley to the next street. The sky above them had turned a deep silver in the evening light. It was still hot, little air in the tight, narrow street.
He realized that wherever Cassidy Hamilton had been headed, she hadn’t planned to return until much later—thus the sweater. He wanted to question her, but now wasn’t the time.
At the edge of the buildings, Jack peered down the street. He didn’t see the van or Ed’s green car. But he also didn’t think they had gone far. Wouldn’t they expect her to call the police? The area would soon be crawling with cop cars. So what would Ed do?
A few blocks from the deserted area where they’d met, they reached a more commercial section. The street was growing busier as people got off work. Restaurants began opening for the evening meal as boutiques and shops closed. Jack spotted a small bar with just enough patrons that he thought they could blend in.
“Let’s go in here,” he said. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink. You should be able to make a call from here. Once I know you’re safe...”
They took a table at the back away from the television over the bar. He removed his Stetson and put it on the seat next to him. When Cassidy wasn’t looking, he removed the .45 from the waistband of his jeans and slid it under the hat.
“What do you want to drink?” he asked as the waitress approached.
“White wine,” she said and plucked nervously at the torn corner of her blouse. Other than the torn blouse, she looked fine physically. But emotionally, he wasn’t sure how much of a toll this would take on her over the long haul. That was if Ed didn’t find her.
“I’ll have whiskey,” he said, waving the waitress off. He had no idea what he was going to do now. He told himself he just needed a jolt of alcohol. He’d been playing this by ear since seeing his father and Ed at the cemetery.
Now he debated what he was going to do with this woman given the little he knew. The last thing he wanted, though, was to get involved with the police. He was sure Ed and his men had seen him, probably recognized him. Once his father found out that it had been his son who’d saved the blonde...
The waitress put two drinks in front of them and left. He watched the blonde take a sip. She’d said her name was Cassidy Hamilton. She’d also said she didn’t know why anyone would want to abduct her off the street, but he suspected that wasn’t true.
“So is your old man rich or something?” he asked and took a gulp of the whiskey.
She took a sip of her wine as if stalling, her gaze lowered. He got his first really good look at her. She was a knockout. When she lifted her eyes finally, he thought he might drown in all that blue.
“I only ask because I’m trying to understand why those men were after you.” She could be a famous model or even an actress. He didn’t follow pop culture, hardly ever watched television and hadn’t been to the movies in ages. All he knew was, at the very least, she’d grown up with money. “If you’re famous or something, I apologize for not knowing.”
Copyright © 2016 by Barbara Heinlein
ISBN-13: 9781488005718
Hard Core Law
Copyright © 2016 by Angela Platt
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