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A Deadly Business

Page 26

by Desiree Holt


  She wasn’t easily frightened but the whole situation spooked her. Maybe she should stay in town at the B and B until she figured out if she was needed for anything. Still, she’d be damned if she’d let anyone chase her out of her father’s house.

  Seacliff Road was sparsely populated, the homes built much farther apart than those in town. There was only one house on the road past her father’s and after that was a dead end. The lack of traffic made her nervous, as did the thick growth of trees that lined the side opposite the houses. Probably no one was lying in wait for her—where had that thought come from?—but she’d feel a lot better being part of a crowd. She kept looking in her rearview mirror.

  “Just in case,” she whispered.

  But in case of what? Besides, who even knew she was in town? She was letting the entire situation spook her. What she needed to do was get into town and talk to Sheri face-to-face. Once she got a better read on the situation, she’d settle down. At least she hoped she would.

  Just as she came to a slight curve in the road, she glanced in the rearview mirror and her heart nearly stopped beating. A black SUV that seemed to have come out of nowhere rode her bumper. Oh, God! Doing her best not to panic, she gripped the wheel and pressed down harder on the accelerator, but no matter how fast she went the car kept pace with her.

  She navigated the next turn, hoping she could pick up a little speed and put distance between her and whoever this was. But then she felt a jolt as the SUV hit her rear bumper, just enough to scare her. Her engine was built for economy, not speed, and no matter how hard she pressed the accelerator she couldn’t seem to outrun the vehicle riding her back end. Praying for someone to show up and help was useless. This was a thinly populated road where half the residents were snowbirds. Getting help right now was in the region of impossibilities.

  In the next moment the other vehicle bumped her again, much harder, causing her car to lurch to the side. Suddenly she was losing control, no matter how she wrestled with the wheel, and she veered off the road. She came to a stop in the deep ditch that ran alongside the road. The SUV bumped her once more before it pulled up and stopped in front of her at an angle, blocking her, even if she could move.

  What the hell?

  The first thing that popped into her mind was Vincent Pellegrino’s so-called one-car accident. Was this what happened to him? She was equal parts scared and pissed off. Scared because it was obvious whoever this was meant her no good. Pissed off because her day just kept going downhill and she was sick of it. She grabbed her cell phone, but dropped it because her hand was shaking. By then a man had climbed out of the SUV and was instantly at her side of the car. Another man appeared at the passenger side, boxing her in.

  The one next to her knocked on her window, startling her so she dropped her cell phone again. She reached down to get it, but the man on the driver’s side banged on her window once more.

  “Open the window,” he barked in a harsh voice.

  She shook her head, double-checked to make sure the doors were locked, and reached down again for her phone. The next thing she knew something hit the passenger window, hard. The window cracked and shattered into what looked like a million pebble-sized chunks that flew across the seat. Startled, she let out a little scream and pushed back as hard as she could against the seat.

  The man on the driver’s side knocked on her window again.

  “If you don’t want me to break this one, roll it down,” he growled.

  Devon shook her head. She knew she should probably be cowering in fright, except that wasn’t her style, even in a dangerous situation. Surely someone would come along on this road, right?

  She closed her eyes for a moment and when she opened them, the man on her side knocked on the window again and held up an iron bar.

  “I’m not going to kill you, bitch.” His voice was a low monotone, slightly accented. “Not yet. This was just to get your attention. Next time it could be your legs. Tell me where he is and I’ll leave you alone.”

  “Please. I—”

  “Do you hear me? Where has he gone? When you talk to him, tell him we’ll be happy to have you as our guest until he shows his face. We know where to find you.”

  Devon slid her gaze from one to the other. The two men looked as if they’d kill her before breakfast and still eat a hearty meal. She opened her mouth but no words came out. She pushed back against her seat again as the man on the right started to reach through the broken window to unlock the door.

  At that moment a four-door pickup zipped around the curve behind them and slowed, the driver obviously spotting the tableau on the side of the road. The truck passed both of their vehicles, then pulled over across the road and stopped. Was this backup for the two men already bent on terrorizing her or could fickle fate be sending her a savior?

 

 

 


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