by JB Lynn
“The nerve!” Lester thundered.
“Tara!” Pete reprimanded.
But the woman was oblivious to his warning. “I’d love to use them in my own work.”
“As a dog catcher?” Venom dripped from every one of Mildred’s words.
Pete winced. This was not going well. What had Armani gotten him into?
Tara raised her chin proudly. “I’m an animal control officer.”
“We’re about ready to go, Mrs. Michelman,” Alyssa interjected in an obvious attempt to distract the other two women.
While she spoke, Gerald walked over and picked up the statue Tara had been admiring. He examined it closely.
Pete fought the urge to rip it out of the younger man’s hands. Was Gerald trying to add fuel to the fire Pete saw smoldering in Mrs. Michelman’s watchful gaze?
“Any special instructions?” Alyssa asked, valiantly trying to get the old woman to focus on her.
“Bring my baby home,” Mildred ordered.
“Yes, ma’am.” Pivoting on her heel, Alyssa grabbed Tara’s elbow and propelled her out of the room.
Gerald replaced the statue and followed them.
Pete was about to do the same when Mildred called his name.
“Pete?”
He glanced at her nervously, expecting to be reamed out for bringing the dog catcher into her home. She motioned for him to come closer, which he did, a tad grudgingly.
“I love Mr. Burberry more than anything else in the world.”
“I understand.”
“I’m not sure you do.” She grabbed his hand and squeezed, surprisingly strong for a woman her age.
“We’re going to do our best to bring him back to you,” he assured her, patting her hand.
“I love my cat, Pete, but I don’t want any humans getting hurt in the effort to return him to me.”
He blinked, taken aback by both the intensity in her voice and message.
“I’m worried that Alyssa is trying to prove something. That she’ll put herself at risk.”
“I’ll keep an eye on her,” he pledged.
“I know you will. I just wanted you to know that if it comes down to protecting her or saving Mr. Burberry, you have my blessing to do what you feel is best.”
Impulsively, Pete bent and placed a quick kiss to her wrinkled cheek. “I’m a pretty good multi-tasker.”
A slight smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “Go.”
Pete made his way to the kitchen, where the others were gathered. Alyssa held court like a general getting ready to lead troops into battle.
“Roscoe will stay with Mrs. M. and keep an eye on her,” Alyssa ordered.
The big man nodded his agreement.
“Tara will ride with me,” Alyssa continued. “And—”
“Bad idea,” the animal control officer interrupted. “All of my equipment is in my van.”
Alyssa frowned. “We shouldn’t need it.”
“But if we do…” Tara shrugged.
“Fine. I’ll ride with Tara in her van, and Pete can ride in the back-up car.” Alyssa shot him a look that seemed to dare him to argue with her.
“What about me?” Gerald asked plaintively.
“What do you want to do?” Alyssa asked.
“Help.”
Feeling sorry for the kid, Pete said, “I could use some company.”
Gerald beamed.
Alyssa nodded her agreement. “So we’re clear, the objective is to bring Mr. Burberry home.”
“I thought we were after a cat,” Tara interjected.
“He is the cat,” Gerald informed her.
“Hoity toity name,” Tara muttered.
“Our objective,” Alyssa stated again, trying to remain in control, “is to bring the cat home. We’re not there to hang onto the money. We’re not trying to catch the bad guys. Our sole aim is to recover the target. Does everyone understand that?” She looked around the room, pinning each of the occupants with her clear, blue-eyed stare, until they nodded their understanding.
Her gaze landed on Pete last. Instead of nodding, he winked at her and was rewarded with a surprised blink before she looked away.
Roscoe walked them all to the door, Alyssa leading the way, carrying the bag that contained the ransom money. Pete brought up the rear of the line.
“Be careful out there,” Roscoe whispered as Pete walked past, slapping him on the back.
Pete nodded, not trusting himself to speak. His gut was tied in knots and it felt like there was a weight pressing on his chest. All he could think as he made his way to his car was SAVE HER.
Chapter 21
Tara’s van was something to behold.
While on the outside it looked like a regular Animal Control Officer van with slightly dingy white paint and black block lettering, the passenger cab looked and smelled totally unexpected.
Everything, from the seats to the floor to the seat belts, was covered in a royal purple velvet. Even the dashboard was covered with some sort of glittery purple paint. It should have been tacky, but strings of soft white led lights and the scent of warm vanilla made it feel like an cocoon of calm.
“Wow.” Alyssa stroked the velvet covering as she sank into the passenger seat, putting the gym bag between her feet.
“I like to dabble.” Tara hauled herself into the driver’s seat. “Ocean or forest.”
“Excuse me?”
“Do you prefer the beach or the woods?”
“The beach,” Alyssa answered, wondering what the woman was getting at.
Tara patted the top of the dashboard twice. The sound of gentle surf roared softly from the speakers.
Tara punched in the location of the ransom exchange into her GPS and began to drive. Glancing in the side mirror, Alyssa saw that Pete pulled out right after them.
“Armani wanted me to give you a message,” Tara said as she turned a corner.
Alyssa rolled her eyes; she had enough on her mind, trying to rescue and recover a cat, and deal with the feelings Pete evoked in her. Dangerous feelings. Feelings she couldn’t trust.
“She said to remind you to choose the right door,” Tara continued.
Remembering how that bit of advice had made her walk into Mauricio’s gym, where she’d encountered Pete again, she shook her head. “She already told me that one.”
Tara shrugged. “She must think it’s important then.”
Alyssa sighed heavily.
“She set me up too.” She tapped the ring finger of her left hand. “Without her I’d never have found my Harry. And now look at me. I’m a married lady with a hubby who’s going to support me chasing my dream.”
“What’s that?”
“Interior decorating,” Tara waved her hand. “I’ve had a lifelong passion for it.”
“I can tell,” Alyssa murmured.
“But it wasn’t going to pay my bills, so I got my town job. Spent years studying and building up my nest egg so that I can take an unpaid internship. Now that I’m married, I can be on Harry’s benefits. It’s like all the stars have aligned for me and I owe it all to Armani.”
“I think you’re discounting all of your own hard work,” Alyssa said gently. “And your own ability. You’ve got a real flair for this.”
Tara grinned. “You think?’
“Absolutely. Purple is my least favorite color and yet I love this space. That takes real talent.”
“What about you? What’s your talent, Alyssa?”
Alyssa tensed. What was her talent?
“Where does your passion lie?” Tara prompted.
“It used to be helping people,” Alyssa said slowly.
“But not anymore?”
She shrugged.
“But you’re helping Mrs. Michelman get her cat back,” Tara reminded her.
“I used to be a cop,” Alyssa blurted out. “I used to make a real difference.”
Tara drove in silence for a few minutes. When she spoke again, her voice was soft. “I return a lot of pets to their
owners. If you could see their faces… I make a real difference.”
“I didn’t mean—”
Tara held up a hand to silence her. “I know what you meant. Why’d you stop being a cop?”
“It’s complicated.”
“And you don’t think you can help people working in the private sector? Or do you not want to anymore?”
“Of course I want to,” Alyssa snapped.
“So what’s stopping you?”
Instead of answering, Alyssa pointed to a parking lot that ran alongside a report. “We’re here. Park there.”
Tara pulled the van to a stop. Pete and Gerald parked beside them on the passenger side.
Tara tapped twice on the dashboard and the ocean surf stopped.
Grabbing the bag, Alyssa slid out of the car, shivering against the cool night air after having been cocooned in Tara’s oasis.
“You bring home this cat, and you’ll make a difference in the old lady’s life,” Tara told her.
Alyssa nodded. She closed the door and turned to face Pete who’d rolled down his window. Worry lines etched his forehead and pulled down the corners of his mouth.
“I really don’t like this.” Reaching out, he caught her wrist.
A tingle of awareness arced between them, chasing away the chill and replacing it with a warmth that touched every cell of her body.
“Tell me you’ll be careful,” he demanded.
She nodded. “I’m not expecting any trouble. It should be a straight swap.”
“And if it’s not, a cat is not worth getting yourself killed over.” His voice, deepened by concern, made her insides flip-flop.
“I’ve got this.” Shaking off his grip, she marched toward the bridge in the middle of the park, the designated meeting spot.
By the time she climbed all the stairs and reached the highest point of the bridge, her fingers ached from clutching the heavy bag so tightly.
As soothing as the water had sounded in Tara’s van, the fury of the rain-swollen stream beneath the bridge made her anxious. Placing the bag at her feet, she turned in a slow circle, surveying the area.
The park appeared deserted. Pete’s car and the van, the only vehicles in the lot, were farther away than she’d expected them to be.
A niggle of nervousness tugged in her gut. If she did end up needing help, it would take them a while to get to her.
Chapter 22
Pete drummed on the steering wheel, watching Alyssa standing on the bridge. Beside him, Gerald didn’t seem to be the slightest concerned about the events at hand. He was studying his phone with rapt attention.
Pete glanced at the van beside him, and was relieved to see, like him, Tara was hanging on every movement Alyssa made.
His cellphone vibrated. Pulling it out, he saw it was Tom calling. Without taking his eyes off Alyssa, he answered. “Hey.”
“Bad time?” his brother asked.
“Kind of in the middle of something.”
“I won’t keep you. I just wanted to let you know that I heard from Geoff.”
Pete gripped the phone tighter. “And?” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Gerald look up from his phone to stare at him curiously.
“He’s going to help out Brady.”
Pete nodded. He’d had no doubt that Geoffrey would help out the only friend who’d stood by him.
“There!” Gerald shouted, pointing at two people starting across the bridge toward Alyssa.
“Gotta go.” Pete hung up on his brother, leaning forward to get a better look at the potential threat approaching the woman he’d fallen for.
One of the figures held a bag, the size of the one Alyssa held. It had to contain the cat.
“Why are there two of them?” Gerald asked nervously.
“I don’t know.” But Pete didn’t like it.
Save her.
The pair stopped a few feet away from Alyssa.
Pete reached for the handle of his door.
Alyssa eyed the two people who approached her. Both were dressed in black from head to toe. Both wore masks. The taller one was a cartoon mouse, who carried the bag with the cat. The shorter one was a cartoon bird.
She left the bag at her feet, wanting her hands free as they approached.
The pathetic mewling of a cat could barely be heard over the rushing water.
“Hand it over,” Mouse demanded in a voice that was too rough and deep to belong to a cartoon rodent.
“You first,” Alyssa countered.
“We’re not screwing around.” The mouse gave the bag an impatient shake. “Give us the dough.”
Alyssa, realizing too late she should have worked out a signal to let the others know she needed their help, replied coolly. “Give me the cat.”
The duck stepped closer.
Alyssa stiffened. “Look, it’s a trade. You give me the cat. I give you the cash.”
Mouse moved closer to the side of the bridge and held the bag over the side. “Hand it over or the cat drowns.”
Fury, impotence, and fear swirling inside her, Alyssa scooped up her bag, knowing her opponents had the upper-hand. If she gave them the money, chances were she’d never get Mr. Burberry back. She only had one option.
She moved fast, skittering over to the opposite side of the bridge, avoiding Duck’s lunge for her. Mirroring Mouse’s threat of holding the sack over the water, she warned. “Touch me and I drop it.”
She expected Mouse to hesitate. She assumed he’d negotiate.
Instead, he said, “You had to do things the hard way.” Then he dropped the bag.
“No!” Alyssa screamed in horror as the cat yowled. She swung the cash at Duck’s head as he made a grab for her, knocking him back a few steps. Clutching the bag, she ran in the opposite direction of the two men, needing to get to the stream’s shore to rescue Mr. Burberry.
A glance in the direction of the parking lot revealed that Pete was running straight for her. Behind him Tara was running, albeit more slowly, at a different angle.
A gunshot echoed through the air. Instinctively, Alyssa dove away from the sound. She tumbled headfirst down the flight of stone stairs, sharp edges and hard contact scraping and bruising as she fell.
She landed at the bottom, unable to breathe after having the wind knocked out of her so violently. Realizing she’d let go of the bag, she felt the ground beside her, searching for it. The adrenaline coursing through her veins allowed her to roll over. Spotting the bag, she painfully crawled toward it.
Then Mouse appeared above her, moonlight glinting off his gun’s barrel as he pointed it at her. “You were more trouble than we’d anticipated.” He descended the stairs, one agonizing step at a time.
Terrified, her body went cold knowing she wouldn’t escape.
Still, she had to try.
She desperately tried to scramble out of his line of fire, but her body, recovering from the fall, wasn’t willing to cooperate.
In the distance, she heard Pete calling her name.
He was still too far away to help her, but knowing he was on his way gave her a powerful surge of hope.
She might not have been able to save the cat, but maybe she could save Pete.
“Here.” She shoved the bag at the Mouse.
He stopped advancing at the bottom of the stairs. “Since you’re about to die, I’ll let you in on a little secret, Montgomery. The money was never the objective.”
He aimed his weapon at her.
She knew in that moment she was going to die.
She heard the anguish in Pete’s voice as he called her name one last time.
And she saw white lights.
Chapter 23
Save her.
Pete saw the lights too.
Focused on Alyssa, his heart breaking with the knowledge he couldn’t save her, he didn’t understand what the lights meant.
Until they almost ran him over.
Engine roaring, his car rocketed past him, straight toward Alyssa and her would-be ki
ller.
The gunman saw it too and turned the gun away from Alyssa and toward the vehicle barreling down on him.
“Don’t stop, Gerald,” Pete prayed silently.
The gunman squeezed off a shot, then another.
To his credit, though he swerved as a bullet shattered the windshield, Gerald never stepped on the brake. He plowed into bridge at full speed.
The gunman barely leapt out of the way in time, and when he did, he fell, hitting his head on a rock. He lay still.
Heart pounding, lungs burning, Pete finally reached Alyssa’s side. Blood covered the side of her face, but her eyes were open.
He crouched down. “Alyssa?”
“The other guy,” she gasped.
Pete stood and looked around. The other man was nowhere to be seen. “Gone.” He knelt beside her. “You’re going to be okay.”
“Bowtie?”
“I’ll check.” Pulling out his phone, he dialed 9-1-1 as he walked over to his mangled car. The airbags had deployed. He had to push them out of the way to find Gerald, who was slumped forward, unconscious… or worse.
“There’s been an accident. People are injured. We need police and a couple of ambulances at Patriot Park.”
Bracing himself for the worst, he reached inside and felt for a pulse on Gerald’s neck. It was there, strong and steady.
“Thank God.” Pete leaned weakly against the car. “Roscoe was right, kid. You’ve got balls,” he whispered to the unaware young man.
Turning to go back toward Alyssa, he saw a figure moving through the darkness in her direction. His heart stuttered. The danger wasn’t over.
Then he realized it was Tara stumbling through the shadows. She was soaked to the skin and bedraggled, but she was beaming. “Got him.” She held up a bag. The cat inside meowed on cue.
Alyssa groaned in pain as she turned trying to see Tara.
“Easy, sweetheart.” Pete fell to his knees beside her. “Don’t move. An ambulance is on the way.”
“I’m fine,” she murmured on a weak gasp.
Taking in how pale she was and the sticky blood, he shook his head. “That was a hell of a fall you took. You may be more banged up than you thought.”
“Gerald?”
“Alive.”