Deadly Christmas Pretense. Dana Mentink

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       THREE

      Liam sprinted around to the walkway a few seconds too late to properly neutralize the guy. He got off only a quick rifle shot that skimmed over the goon’s shoulder, just enough to scare him. It worked. The guy stumbled in his fear and fell. On the ground, he rolled then dived behind some rocks. When he popped a head up, only the whites of his eyes and teeth shone in the thick darkness.

      “Gonna stay and shoot me? She’s not gonna hang on for long. Tough choice, right, cowboy?” he called.

      Liam gripped the gun, glancing quickly upward to see the shadowy movement on the lighthouse platform. He did not dare look too carefully. “Won’t take me long to stop you.”

      “But you’re not that kind of guy, are you? Shooting an unarmed man?”

      “Guess you don’t know what kind of man I am, do ya?”

      “Oh yes, I do.” He came up with a handful of sand and hurled it in Liam’s direction. Liam flinched and the man took off, running full-on into the night.

      Liam had learned when he was seven years old that there was right and there was wrong. The lines blurred at times, particularly in his tenure as a Green Beret, but they were still there, which was why the lunatic was not already dead at Liam’s feet. As he ran into the lighthouse and charged the steps two at a time, he wished he hadn’t learned that lesson quite so well.

      I’ll have another showdown with that clown, he told himself.

      He heard her gasping, struggling to hold on, as he exploded onto the top level to see her fingers clawed around the broken piece of railing. Flopping onto his stomach, he grabbed her forearms. The angle was bad; the leverage was worse. He couldn’t see past the end of his nose, but he hung on for all he was worth.

      She wriggled, fingers white and trembling with the effort.

      “Can you brace your feet on the wall?” he grunted.

      Breathing hard, she shimmied, almost detaching herself from him. He slid one palm down her arm and gathered a bunch of her jacket. “All right. Plan B. You’re going to have to let go so I can haul you up.”

      She whimpered once and the sound went right through him.

      “It’s okay,” he said, trying to gentle his tone. “I promise I’m not going to let you fall.”

      Fear pinched her mouth, bangs scattered over her eyes. “I can’t,” she breathed.

      The muscles in his shoulders began to blare a steady warning. Though she was petite, barely tall enough to climb up in his truck all the months they were dating, her body was deadweight and he could not maintain his hold for much longer. He shifted.

      “Tam, I know I’m not the guy you wanted to run into just now, but at the moment I’m the only one around. We didn’t make it as a couple, but you could always trust me. Isn’t that right?”

      She stopped struggling and he felt her start to lose her grip.

      “Trust me now, Tam. Come on. On three, you’re gonna let go. One...”

      Her eyes rounded in fear, molten and terrified in the moonlight.

      “Two...”

      Again the softest whimper, fear again, but edged with resolve this time. She went dead still.

      “Three.”

      She let go. The downward pull strained every muscle in his body, required every iota of strength he possessed not to drop her. Groaning with the effort, he began to command his body backward, pulling one excruciating inch at a time, the platform creaking in protest. Their combined weight added to the ledge already weakened by time and the salt air. How much longer would it hold? Sweat blinded him and he thought his shoulders would dislocate when at last he pulled back just far enough that her torso cleared the busted railing.

      She crawled up next to him and collapsed. He rolled onto his back, sweat mingling with the cold winter air, sucking in painful gusts as he recovered. She breathed hard next to him, one shuddering gasp at a time.

      Finally she managed to sit up.

      “Thank you,” she whispered.

      “Anytime,” he groaned, unable yet to attain a sitting position.

      Several more minutes passed before he rustled up the strength to roll over and get painfully to his feet while she did the same.

      He let the silence linger for a few more minutes while she stayed there, staring out at the ocean without seeing it, the beacon painting them in odd yellow light.

      “Tam, why is that guy trying to kill you?” he said finally.

      She jerked when he said her name. “I don’t know.”

      He raised an eyebrow. “I think you probably have a general idea.”

      “No.”

      He rolled a tentative shoulder to make sure it was still in the socket. “All right. Well, let’s take a ride over to Danny Patron at the Driftwood Police Department, and you can tell him all the things you don’t know.”

      “I have to go.”

      He blinked. “When someone tries СКАЧАТЬ