His Secret Life. Debra Webb
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His tension had been palpable. He was worried big time about who she was and what her exact intentions might be. Her appearance alone was not nearly enough motivation to prompt him to cut and run. Something else had to be behind the escalating tension.
Headlights turning onto the gravel road had her stepping back into the tree line. The lights going dark while the vehicle still rolled sent her instincts to the next level.
Since it wasn’t hunting season and the only inhabited house on this stretch of the road was Benson’s, there was every reason to believe this visitor was here for similar reasons as she.
Logic told her this could be an actual reporter attempting to track down the hero who had rescued Norcross’s family. But her gut told her differently. So far, no one had the scoop on the anonymous rescuer. At least not that had been reported. Nope, this was no reporter.
This was trouble with a capital T.
The sedan stopped short of Benson’s drive. The front doors, driver’s and passenger’s, opened. Despite the dark clothing and the ski masks, the hazy light of the moon allowed her to make out enough about the tall, broad-shouldered frames to recognize that both were male. The driver motioned to the passenger, sending him through the overgrown pasture toward Benson’s house.
Damn. Definitely not good.
Jane weaved her way through the dense underbrush, trying to keep noise to a minimum. If she had Benson’s number she could warn him.
“Damn it,” she muttered under her breath.
If these guys got to his house before she did—
“Don’t move.”
The barrel pressed to the back of her skull proved far more persuasive than the issued order.
“I…need to borrow a phone,” she said, offering the first excuse that came to mind. “My car broke down. I’m totally lost.” She could use the aunt story again. The insistent pressure against the back of her head warned that this guy wasn’t going to be nearly as amiable as Benson had been.
Using his free hand, he patted her down, took possession of her weapon and phone. “Turn around and start back in the direction of your car.”
That he growled the order confirmed her speculation. This guy wasn’t going to make this easy.
“Okay, okay.” She moved around him and started toward where she’d left her car. “I didn’t realize I was trespassing. Chill out. As soon as I can get in touch with AAA I’m out of here.”
“Next,” he said, giving her a prod with the muzzle of his handgun, “I guess you’re going to tell me that you didn’t have enough bars on your cell to make the call already.”
“How’d you know?” Now she was a comedian. How the hell had she missed this big guy coming up behind her? Her instincts were definitely off tonight. Maybe not off, just too focused on her target.
“Just shut up and keep walking.”
Jane kept walking. She still had options. When they reached her car she could make a move. Try and take him down before he could pull off a round.
Risky at best.
Play along and see where it goes from here, particularly if these guys were after Benson for something other than the Norcross rescue as she suspected. They could end up abducted together.
Neither of the two was appealing, but her options were limited.
“I’ve got her.”
The guy with the gun had obviously put in a call to his cohorts. She considered the fact that she’d only seen two men in the car that had arrived after she pulled off the road. Which likely meant the guy behind her already had Benson under surveillance.
The next logical question was, how had these guys found him?
If Benson had fallen off the radar in a previous life, had these guys been closing in on him already or was finding him somehow related to the Norcross accident? She’d sensed that “being watched” feeling at least once today.
Norcross had come to the Colby Agency, but had he gone to someone else or tried a different avenue first?
There was no reason to suspect Norcross would have an ulterior motive for wanting him found.
As they reached her car, Jane glanced back at the guy behind her. Shorter than his friends. This one, too, had donned a ski mask and dark clothing. Oh yeah. He’d been hanging out in these woods, watching.
He had to have parked on a different road, maybe somewhere on the main road, and walked here. Jane had checked out every possible spot along this gravel road, from one end to the other.
“Facedown on the car,” her captor ordered.
She leaned over the truck, facedown as ordered, arms spread wide. From the edge of her vision she could see him raise the cell phone to his ear.
“What do ya want me to do with her?”
Nice. Nothing like being the excess baggage. Too bad she couldn’t hear the guy on the other end of the line.
“Got it.”
Jane braced for whatever came next.
Fingers tangled in her hair, jerking her upright. “Come on.”
“Ouch! What’s the deal, man?” She tried to infuse fear into her voice, but mostly the words came out ticked off.
“The boss has a few questions for you.”
At least that meant she wasn’t going to eat a bullet just yet. Something to be thankful for.
“What boss?” She stumbled forward as he pushed her toward the road. “I told you I just need to call AAA. Whatever you guys are into is okay with me. I don’t want any trouble.” She was relatively certain that line wasn’t going to work so well this time.
“Tell it to the boss,” he growled, keeping her momentum going by thrusting her head forward.
For now it was one against one. When they met up with his pals, she might not get such even odds.
“Wait,” she whined. “You’re hurting me.”
He jerked her head back against his chin. “That’s the point,” he muttered in her ear.
She rammed her elbow into his ribs. Curled her leg around his and slammed her back into his chest.
He hit the ground with her on top of him. She scrambled away. Grabbed for the gun he’d dropped. His, not hers. Where the hell was hers? There…on the ground not three feet from him.
“Back off,” she warned when he made a dive for her. She held the gun with both hands. “Way back.”
As he scrambled backward, she snatched up the weapon he’d taken from her. “Give me my cell.”
“Get it yourself,” he growled.
The phone lay on the ground halfway between them. She wasn’t going for it. No way.
“Get up.” She pushed to her feet, keeping her aim steady on the bastard. “I said get up,” she repeated when he didn’t make a move to obey her order.
The smirk on his lips sent the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. She swung around.
Too late.
A hard forearm connected with her temple. She hit the ground.
“Put her in the trunk.”
Trying to mentally shake off the stars floating in front of her eyes, she crawled backward to escape the reach of big hands.
A kick to the ribs from the guy she’d taken down sent the burger and fries she’d eaten earlier hurling up her throat.