Hard Core Law. Angi Morgan
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Josh didn’t wait around to spot any other vehicles keeping an eye on them. He didn’t care if any of them kept up. “Flip down the visor, Tracey.” He turned on the flashing lights and let traffic get out of his way. “We’re not going to be late.”
Tracey braced herself with a foot on the dashboard. “I’m rich. That’s my secret.”
He slowed for an intersection and looked at her while checking for vehicles. She cleared her throat, waiting. Josh drove. If that was all the FBI could dig up on her, how could that be leverage?
The flashing lights on his car made it easy to get to the bridge and park. He left them on when they got out. Tracey reached under the seat and retrieved a second Jackson emergency kit. He snagged the one he’d brought from the house.
Armed with only a phone and his son’s emergency kit, they walked quickly across the bridge to wait in the middle of the river.
“Not many people here on a Friday night.” Tracey walked to the steel beams and looked through. “I hope they don’t make us jump.”
“That could be a possibility.” One that he hadn’t considered.
“I don’t swim well. So just push me over the edge.”
“You don’t have to go.” Josh stayed in the middle, his senses heightened from the awareness of how vulnerable they were in this spot. “How’s your head?”
“Spinning. You grabbed extra insulin cartridges and needles. That’s what I saw, right? I think I should take a couple, too.”
It made sense. He opened the kit. She reached for a cartridge and needle. If the kidnappers took only one of them, they’d each have a way to keep Jackson healthy.
* * *
TRACEY WAS SCARED. Out-of-her-mind scared. If today hadn’t happened, she would have felt safe standing on a suspension bridge above the Brazos River in the early moonlight with Josh.
But today had happened and she was scared for them all.
“What kind of a secret is being rich?” Josh walked a few feet one direction and then back again. “I don’t get it. Why is being rich a secret McCaffrey would threaten you with?”
“You really want me to explain right now?”
“You’re the one who brought it up.” He shrugged, but kept walking. “It’ll pass the time.”
“My last name isn’t Cassidy. I mean, it wasn’t. I changed it.”
That stopped him. There was a lot of light on the bridge and she could see Josh’s confused expression pretty well. He was in jeans and a long-sleeve brick-red shirt that had three buttons at the collar. She’d given it to him on his birthday because she wanted to brighten up his wardrobe. The hat he normally wore was still at home. They’d left without it or it would have been on his head.
“I ran a background check on you. Tracey Cassidy exists.”
“It’s amazing what you can do when you have money. In fact, I could hire men to help you. My uncle would know the best in the business.”
“Let’s go back to the part that you aren’t who you say you are.” The phone in his palm rang. He answered and held it to his ear. “We’re here.”
Josh looked around the area. His eyes landed on the far side of the bridge, opposite where they’d left the car. Tracey joined him.
“Whatever you want me to do, you don’t need my babysitter.”
“No, you need me. I can take care of the twins, change Jackson’s cartridge.” She held up the emergency pack.
“I don’t need any extra motivation. Leave her out of—” He pocketed the phone.
“I’m sorry for getting you into this mess.” He hugged her to him before they continued across the bridge then on the river walk under the trees. The sidewalk curved and Josh paused, looking for something.
Another couple passed. Josh tugged on Tracey’s arm and got her running across the grass toward the road. If the couple were cops, he didn’t acknowledge them. Their shoes hit the sidewalk again and a white van pulled up illegally onto the sidewalk next to Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard.
The door slid open. That’s where they needed to go.
The blackness inside the van seemed final. But she could do this. She’d do whatever it took. Whatever they wanted.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw a man approaching. Then another. The more the two men tried to look as if they weren’t heading toward them, the more apparent it was that their paths would. Maybe they were the cops that Bryce had arranged to follow them. If they got any closer, the men inside the van would see them, too.
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