Reading Online Novel

Someone Like Her(63)



 Crap. She chewed on her bottom lip, debating whether to tell him the truth. “There’s still time to let me go before the cops find you. I’ll get you money and you can take the car, go wherever you want.”

 “No. You’re my insurance.” He fiddled with the gun resting on his thigh, sliding it back and forth. “You’re the reason the cops are after me, so you got this coming.”

 “I really wish you wouldn’t point that gun at me.” If she could only figure him out, she might be able to decide what to do. Sometimes it seemed as if he was confused as to how he’d gotten in this mess. Other times, he’d look at her with so much hate that she feared he’d pick up the gun and shoot her just because it would please him to do so. Every once in a while he would eye her as if he were trying to undress her.

 A shiver traveled up her spine at the thought of him putting his hands on her. Somehow, she had to get away before he either shot her or touched her. Although she continued to check in the rearview mirror for any sign of a police car, she saw none.

 “Turn here,” he said all of a sudden.

 “Governor’s Square Mall. I love the stores here,” she said, still hoping Jamie was listening.

 “Shut up.” With the nose of the gun, he pointed. “Go there to the back.”

 Twenty minutes later, they were back on the road in a stolen car. “I’m really impressed you know how to hotwire a car but if we were going to steal one, couldn’t you have picked something nicer than a green Ford?”

 “Do you ever shut up?” He changed the radio from a talk show to a country station, then turned the volume up.

 That was going to make it harder for Jamie to hear her if he was listening.



       “He just stole a car, a green Ford. Don’t know what model or year. She let us know he’s got a gun.”

 The bastard was a dead man. Jake walked up the sidewalk to Carol and Angie’s house, the phone to his ear. “She’s still got the tracking device on her, right?”

 “We’re assuming it’s on her and not riding around in someone else’s car,” Saint said. “She hasn’t said anything about Fortunada tossing her purse away. We’re following its movements on the big screen, and the direction jibes with everything she’s saying. Right now, they’re on College, a few miles from State Street. You gonna tell the cops we’re tracking them?”

 “And risk a shoot-out? Hell no. I’ll tell them about the change of cars, and to search the back of the mall for Carol’s Taurus. Maria’s car’s here; I’ll take it to go after them. I’ll call you back as soon as I’m gone from here.”

 A uniformed cop answered his knock. “I need to see Detective Nolan.”

 “He’s busy.”

 “Yeah, so am I,” Jake said, pushing past the man.

 “Hey!”

 Jake jerked his arm away when the cop grabbed it.

 “It’s okay, Grabowski, let ’em in.”

 Nolan held out his hand and Jake shook it. “I was hoping the next time I saw you it would be while we watched Fortunada get sentenced to prison. Whose bright idea was it to let him out on bail?”

 “Sorry to say, it was out of my hands. Why are you here, Buchanan? Tell me you don’t got it in mind to play superhero.”

 Okay, he wouldn’t tell him. Jake glanced at Carol and Angie, huddled together on the sofa. Tears streamed down both their faces.

 “I-I’m so sorry,” Angie said, following it up with a hiccup. “He made . . . he made me call her.”

 Jake knelt in front of her, covering her hands with his. “I know. You did what you had to do to keep you and your mom safe, and no one blames you. Does he have only the one gun?”

 She nodded. “I think so.”

 “How do you know he’s got a gun?” Nolan asked.

 The door burst open and Eddie barreled in, running headlong into Grabowski. The two of them fell to the floor, a tangle of legs and arms.

 “Jesus,” Jake muttered. He pulled Eddie up by the collar. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”

 “Why are all those cop cars out there? Where’s Angie? What’s going on, dude?”

 “Angie’s fine. Go sit with her on the couch and try to be quiet.”

 Nolan looked at Jake and rolled his eyes. “Shoulda just sent out invitations. Now, you were going to tell me how you know our perp has a gun.”

 No, he wasn’t. “Let’s talk in the kitchen.”