Tall Dark Defender. Beth Cornelison
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Название: Tall Dark Defender

Автор: Beth Cornelison

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Ужасы и Мистика

Серия: Mills & Boon Intrigue

isbn: 9781472057617

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ his eyes to slits. “Ten.”

      Jonah sighed, pretending to consider the higher stakes. He couldn’t seem too eager or too free with his cash. The working-class stiff he was supposed to be wouldn’t have ten thousand dollars to lose on a careless bet. Not that he had that kind of money to lose, either.

      He rubbed his thumb idly on the handle of his spoon and glanced out the plate-glass window to the night-darkened street. “That’s pretty steep.”

      Farrout shrugged lazily. “I gotta know if you’re for real or if you’re just wasting my time. First bet is always ten grand, minimum.”

      Pulliam twisted his lips into a taunting grin. “How sure are you of UNC now?”

      Keeping a stoic face, Jonah drummed his fingers on the table in an intentional display of nerves. “I can go eight now, two more next payday.”

      Farrout’s fleshy lips twitched. “Deal.”

      Annie returned with separate checks for the three men. When she reached for Farrout’s plate, he grabbed her wrist with his meaty hand and squeezed. “Did I say I was through?”

      Wincing, Annie gave Farrout a wide-eyed glance. “I’m sorry. I just thought—”

      Fury burned inside Jonah, and he stiffened. “Let go of her.”

      The barrel-chested man returned a cold stare. “Butt out, Devereaux.”

      Jonah gritted his teeth. “Let. Go.”

      Annie’s cheeks had drained of color, and her dark eyes rounded with apprehension.

      A muscle jumped in Farrout’s jaw, but he released Annie with an angry thrust. “Watch yourself, Devereaux. I don’t like people sticking their nose where it don’t belong.”

      Hell. He didn’t need to blow his investigation by pissing Farrout off. But he damn well wouldn’t sit by and let him rough up a woman, either. He’d done that too often as a kid when his dad was in one of his moods, and the guilt still ate at him.

      Annie rubbed her offended wrist and cast a quick, curious glance at Jonah before hurrying back to the lunch counter.

      Over the months he’d been working the case, he’d gotten to know all of the waitresses by name. Annie was the most reticent of the waitstaff, but she was also the most intriguing. Though attentive and polite to a fault, she was far less inclined to engage in good-natured banter and flirting the way the other servers did. An air of mystery surrounded her, partly because of her shyness, partly because she wore her silky dark tresses in a style reminiscent of the sultry movie stars of the 1940s—parted on the side with a curtain of hair covering one cheek.

      Jonah had caught a glimpse of that hidden cheek once and seen the scars she was concealing. Those scars added to the enigma that was Annie but, in his opinion, didn’t detract from her pretty face. Clearly she thought otherwise, or she wouldn’t work so hard to hide the jagged pink lines.

      As Jonah dug his wallet out of his back pocket, Farrout and Pulliam slid out of the booth and sauntered to the counter with their checks.

      “Put it on my tab, doll face,” Farrout said, tossing his ticket on the counter and turning to leave.

      Pulliam added his bill and clicked his tongue. “Ditto.”

      Annie’s brow furrowed, and she shook her head. “But…we don’t—”

      The men ignored her as they walked out, chortling to themselves.

      From the booth, Jonah seethed over the men’s rudeness. He studied Annie’s crestfallen expression, her drooping shoulders and moue of disgust. She slapped the counter with the rag in her hand and huffed loudly.

      When she raised her gaze to him, he quickly shifted his attention to his bill and pulled a twenty out of his wallet. He rose from the bench seat and approached the counter where she wiped up the day’s mess with more vigor than necessary.

      Extending the ticket and cash to her, he smiled ruefully. “Keep the change.”

      She glanced at the money and frowned. “But all you had was coffee.”

      He lifted a shoulder as he returned his wallet to his pocket. “Maybe I want to help your day end on a positive note.”

      Annie gaped at him as if she didn’t know what to make of his kindness. As if she’d never encountered generosity before. “But—”

      “Annie!” Peter Hardin, the manager of the diner and Jonah’s key suspect in the money-laundering scheme, burst through the swinging kitchen door.

      Jonah saw Annie tense as her linebacker-size boss stalked over to her.

      “I need you to do an errand for me.” Hardin slapped a bulky tan envelope on the counter.

      Annie’s face fell, and she glanced at her watch. “Now? It’s almost midnight.”

      Jonah took his time putting on his jacket, unabashedly eavesdropping on the exchange. Annie’s distress around her boss piqued his curiosity.

      “Yes, now. This has to be delivered to Fourth Street in the next half hour. It’s extremely important, so don’t be late with it. Guard this envelope with your life.”

      Jonah clenched his teeth. Fourth Street was a notoriously bad section of town. This time of night, the area was downright dangerous. What was Hardin thinking, sending a woman on an errand alone in that part of town?

      “But—” Annie hesitated, chewing her lip as if debating the wisdom of arguing with her boss. “If it’s so important, why aren’t you delivering it?”

      Hardin glared at her. “I have my reasons. You want a job tomorrow, you deliver that package on time. Got it?”

      Annie opened and closed her mouth in dismay, then nodded.

      Her boss handed her a scrap of paper and hitched his head toward the front door. “That’s the address and the name of the guy you give the package to. Only to him. No one else. Got it? Now, go on. I’ll close up.”

      After fishing her purse out from under the counter, Annie tucked the package against her chest with a sigh.

      Jonah watched her leave the diner and walk past the parking lot without stopping. He frowned. She didn’t have a car? Walking Fourth Street alone at night could be suicide.

      Without giving it a second thought, Jonah fell in step behind Annie. Peter Hardin might not care about his waitress’s safety, but Jonah wasn’t about to let Annie make that delivery unprotected.

      Annie’s footsteps reverberated in the dark shadows looming around her. Alone on the downtown street, she clutched the manila envelope to her chest like a shield.

      She shouldn’t be here. This part of town was dangerous, especially at this late hour. But how could she refuse her boss’s order? She couldn’t afford to lose her job. She only had a few more minutes left to make Hardin’s delivery, and he had been emphatic about the deadline—and the dire consequences if anything happened to the mysterious contents.

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