His Child. Delores Fossen

      “Just a man in a white car. The first digit of the license plate was C.”

      “The last was F,” Jessie provided, after she pulled in a generous breath. Not that it helped. Every inch of her was on a razor-sharp edge, her body braced for the fight. A fight she could easily lose. And losing this fight would mean dying. “There was mud or something covering the rest of the plate. I think it might be the same man who kidnapped me.”

      Jake made another turn, his gaze darting between the rearview mirror and the street ahead. “I thought you said there were four people who kidnapped you.”