LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

to hunt her down. Stink Boy’s palpable nerves and gun had put her on edge, but he hadn’t been the worst. Officer Jones held that dubious honor. So far.

      Ally lifted her head as Greg emerged, glancing around as he shut the door firmly. The DO NOT DISTURB sign swung from the doorknob. Maybe she should borrow the sign and hang it around her neck.

      She could start a new jewelry trend.

      Greg climbed into the car, while tapping on his cell phone, then pressed it to his ear and spit out a succession of rapid-fire instructions. He clicked it off and wrapped his hands around the steering wheel. The atmosphere in the car was charged. Ally stared out the window at the paint peeling off the motel’s grimy exterior, twisting her fingers in the dress. She nibbled on her lower lip, tucked her leg beneath her and untangled her fingers from the fabric. She settled both feet on the floorboards again. Greg still didn’t start the car. He sat staring at her, freaking her out.

      “You okay?”

      She started when he spoke. The trembling she thought she had under control returned and a few stupid tears trickled down her cheeks.

      “Aw, baby.” He gathered her in his arms and held her tight, rubbing her back, murmuring unintelligible reassurances in her hair. In general, it made her feel warm and safe. She closed her eyes, took a deep Greg-scented breath and nestled a little bit closer.

      Ally swallowed a sigh of regret when he released her. But, he didn’t move back. He brushed the tears off her cheeks. Her heart clutched. Twice he’d held her while she sobbed out her stress and fear and adrenaline overdose against his chest.

      She lowered her gaze and sat back. “Sorry about your shirt.”

      The engine rumbled to life. He backed out of the parking space and she glanced at the motel room.

      “What were you doing in there, anyway?”

      “Uh, handcuffing him to the bed so the locals can pick him up.”

      Her eyebrows climbed. His shoulders were hunched and he didn’t meet her eyes. He was rubbing his knuckles, a few of which looked scraped and red.

      “Okay.”

      His cheekbones darkened with a flush. “Weasel is pretty low on the totem pole. Guess they don’t realize you’re with me.”

      “You know his, err, boss?”

      “Yeah. These guys define the term ‘underbelly of society’.”

      She eyed the tree-lined neighborhood. “So, where are we going? What do we do now? Do you have any leads on who’s after me? I mean us. Whatever. What’s the plan?”

      “Whoa. Slow down, Sugar Lips.” He grinned. “First things first. Breakfast. Women get real irritable when they go too long without eating. There’s this little place I know with the best omelets.”

      Just what she needed. A reminder about his vast experience with women. And omelets.

      Settling deeper in the seat, she crossed her legs and stared at the scenery whipping past. Speed limits obviously didn’t apply to police officers. Must be nice. Not like she’d speed even if she could.

      One maddening hour later, they climbed back into the burnt-orange leather-upholstered interior of the Camaro. She had to admit, she felt better after eating. More in control.

      “Do I get any hints about where we’re going?”

      Greg shot her an amused glance. “I told you—”

      “Yes, I know. It’s not something I need to worry about. The big strong police detective will take care of everything. Well, forgive me if I’m not willing to take a back seat when this all revolves around me and something I may or may not know about some mysterious criminal mastermind.”

      “Well, that was dramatic,” he drawled in true Surfer Dude fashion.

      Ally rolled her eyes. “Keep it up and criminals won’t be the only ones after your blood.”

      “Threatening an officer of the law?” He shook his head. “If I weren’t so turned-on right now, I’d read you your rights and handcuff you. Actually, we can try that later. In private.”

      Face on fire, she crossed her arms. Turn her on and give her hot flashes to distract her from the fact he wasn’t telling her a flippin’ thing. Great plan. So what if it worked.

      He guided the car to the curb, put it into neutral and applied the brake. She blinked. Here? No way. She’d never been to this part of the city. Neither had she suffered any overwhelming desire to.

      Garbage littered the sidewalks, ancient cars unmoved in the past decade occupied the gutters and crumbling brick buildings loomed over them all. Sinking her teeth into her lip, she turned to Greg.

      “It’ll be okay.” He patted her thigh. “I’m going to have a quick conversation with a man about a horse. Wait here. I’ll be right back. Promise.”

      A horse?

      He climbed out, ducking down to make eye contact again. “Sit tight.”

      The door slammed shut. Always with the orders. She eyed the building squatting on the block amongst the other ramshackle brick structures, an ugly ogre waiting for an innocent victim to stroll close enough to grab.

      Four men materialized out of the shadows at Greg’s approach. Ally gnawed on her lip and wished for a cell phone. What if she needed to call 9-1-1? The men stopped a few feet from Greg, speaking in voices too low to carry. Their gazes strayed in her direction. Chewing harder on her lip, she sank in her seat.

      The four men backed off and Greg vanished into the gloomy depths of the building.

      Five of the longest minutes of her life later, he reappeared. She did a quick scan for injuries, ridiculously relieved when she didn’t spot any. The lopsided grin he shot her belied the tense lines around his eyes. He nodded at the lounging men as he passed, climbed into the car and pulled away from the curb. Several minutes and numerous turns later, he broke the heavy silence.

      “It’s not good, Ally.” His use of her given name tightened her nerves more than his tone. Surfer Dude had vanished.

      “This guy is so high up in the food chain, no one knows who he is. I don’t know what the hell you’ve gotten yourself messed up in, but it’s big.” He met her eyes. For a split second, his gaze dropped to the spot where her teeth clamped down on her lip before returning to the road. “Normally, I’d be thrilled to have something like this drop in my lap. This could make my career. But your involvement…” He looked away.

      Ally didn’t say anything as she watched him, worrying her lip.

      He was quiet for a minute. “The guy killed at the amusement park was Michael Smith. Do you—”

      The air left her lungs in a rush. Michael Smith. Her friend. Coworker. Dead. Her head spun.

      Greg’s lips thinned and he pulled to the side of the road.

      “Michael was the man who fell off the ride? I mean…” She waved a limp hand, unable to say the words. To make the entire situation more real. Beyond Michael’s death, one thought loomed large. “Is it strange we were both at the park on the same day, on the same ride, at the same time?”

      “It’s a very convenient coincidence.”

      “Especially since I hate roller coasters. The odds of me going on one were extremely slim.”

      “So why did you? Why were you even at the park?”

      “Because!” She threw her hands up in the air, exasperated with herself and the situation. “Everyone at work is always going somewhere and doing something. They return on Monday gushing about a new restaurant, some hip downtown dance club, a weekend get-a-way, the amusement park… My contribution is always, ‘I read a good book.’ Or I could mention my hot ‘date,’” she made air quotes with fingers, “with my therapist.

Скачать книгу