Wilder Days. Linda Winstead Jones

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СКАЧАТЬ to Birmingham, Alabama, put them in the same geographical area, but still…there had been other women in his life. Women who’d lasted more than a month. But then, Vic hadn’t been a woman sixteen years ago, she’d been a little girl playing with womanly things.

      “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I’m going to find out.”

      She nodded her head and looked away from him.

      “How’s the hand?”

      She wiggled the tightly bandaged fingers. “Fine.”

      An awkward silence filled the air of Vic’s homey, bright kitchen. The coffeemaker gurgled, and outside a bird chirped. The light that broke through the wide window at the breakfast nook bathed Vic in a way that made her look golden, more beautiful than she really was, surely. Del tried to tell himself that he no longer cared for her, that she didn’t grab him somewhere deep inside and hold on.

      “They’re going to come back, aren’t they?” Her voice was breathless with fear.

      “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I don’t think so. And they won’t be back tonight, that’s certain. They want to be far, far away when you come up missing or dead. If they decided to come back and swipe your TV or rifle through your jewelry box like common thieves, someone might see them in the area. It’s not a chance they’ll take. You need to get out of here, though, because when they find out you’re not dead they’ll be back. Like I said, we have a little time.”

      She nodded. “Noelle’s not supposed to be back for four days.”

      “We don’t have that much time. Should we go to Gulf Shores and pick her up?”

      Vic’s eyes were condemning, sharp and no longer afraid. “We? No. I’ll go get her myself.”

      Del shook his head. “I can’t let you do that.” Dammit, there was no way he’d leave Vic to handle this on her own. He couldn’t.

      “Let me?” Vic snapped.

      Her defiance was almost amusing. Almost. “You have no idea what you’re up against. I can’t just let you run out of here on your own.”

      “What are you going to do, tag along?”

      Del sighed, not at all happy with this turn of events. “Yeah.”

      Del refused to leave, even when Vic reached the end of her rope and threatened to call the police. He said one night in the house would be all right. The television news had covered the explosion of the abandoned warehouse off of I-65, and while they hadn’t reported anything about discovering bodies inside, there hadn’t been much information at all. The fire had still been too hot for investigators to explore the building.

      Maybe right now the kidnappers thought she and Del were dead. That incorrect assumption would not last long.

      So come tomorrow morning, she and Del were headed for Gulf Shores to collect Noelle. Then what? Oh, it was not a good idea for those two to be together, not even for a short time. Noelle had Del’s black hair, his blue eyes, his way of finding and embracing trouble. Would he take one look at her and know?

      Del finished making his phone calls in the kitchen and walked into the living room where Vic was curled up on the couch. She couldn’t help herself…she was taken aback by how beautiful he was, how unexpectedly tempting. Talk about trouble! Del Wilder was a criminal who had come back into her life with a bang. Literally. He couldn’t stay, and she couldn’t let herself be tempted by what she couldn’t have.

      “I’ll hire someone to go with me,” she said, not sounding as confident as she wanted to. “A private investigator, maybe, someone who specializes in personal protection.”

      “Still trying to get rid of me?”

      “Yes.”

      He ignored her, smiled and walked to the mantel where a collection of photographs were carefully placed. Vic’s heart almost stopped when he reached out and grabbed an eight-by-ten of Noelle at the age of nine. She’d been taking dance lessons then, and was wearing a ladybug outfit, complete with wings and antennae. Vic’s heart thudded too hard. What if he looked at Noelle and saw the truth?

      “Pretty girl,” he said, smiling as he returned the framed photo to its place.

      “Yes, she is.”

      “So,” Del said, turning to face her. “What happened with Presley?”

      “Preston,” she said tersely. “And what happened to my marriage is none of your business.”

      “Just curious. Trying to kill a little time.” He shoved his hands in his pocket, the move making him look like a large, tense, restless boy. “Shock will come by in the morning and drop off a bag. I’d like to get out of here pretty early. By ten, anyway.”

      “Del…”

      “And don’t tell me I’m not going with you,” he interrupted. “You need me, Vic.”

      Those were the last words she wanted to hear! “I do not need you.”

      She didn’t need anyone to look out for her or Noelle. The only men who had ever tried to shelter and protect her had ended up betraying her, in one way or another. Her father; Preston. Even Del. These days Vic looked out for herself and her daughter. She didn’t need a man to play the hero.

      “At least let me see you settled somewhere safe,” Del said, obviously trying to placate her. “I know of a few good places to hide.”

      “I’m sure you do.”

      Del grinned at her blatant insult. “You got tough while I was gone.”

      He couldn’t possibly know what a nerve he’d touched on. “I didn’t have any choice.”

      Shock was right on time, for a change, and he came bearing everything Del had asked for. Clothes, ammo, an extra pistol. And a file on Vic and her ex-husband.

      Del enjoyed his morning ritual, coffee and a cigarette, and flipped through the file. There wasn’t much.

      “Any luck finding Tripp and Holly?”

      Shock shook his head. “No, man, they’re staying clear of their regular haunts. They’ll turn up sooner or later. They always do.”

      Up until now, the Mayrons had been a minor annoyance, two pesky flies in the ointment. They hadn’t been this determined, violent or organized before. Besides, Tripp Mayron was a major screwup.

      “And the other?”

      “Most of the good stuff is up here,” Shock said, tapping a fingertip against his temple. “I made a few phone calls last night and dug up the real dirt.”

      Del looked down at a photo of Vic, an impersonal and unflattering driver’s license picture. And still, she looked good. “Let’s hear it.”

      “Six years ago Preston Lowell, who works for Vic’s old man, was caught with his pants down. Literally. Not a pretty sight, from what I hear. The guy’s apparently got a really СКАЧАТЬ