Twin Threat Christmas: One Silent Night / Danger in the Manger. Rachelle McCalla
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“I don’t know where it is. But I can find it. I can. No problem. I’m on it.”
“You bet you’re on it. Do we have everything we need here?”
“Everything.” The keys rattled and jingled, and the voices shifted to muffled sounds as the men entered the hallway and headed toward the stairs.
Vanessa held her breath, listening carefully. Were they gone? She didn’t dare leave the restroom until the men had left the building, but how could she know when they were gone? There wasn’t a window in the bathroom.
And she didn’t have time to wait. Virgil was going to check the cabin. She had to get her girls out of there, get them long gone before Virgil and his men arrived.
Her enemies were already two steps ahead of her.
* * *
Eric climbed back into the car but kept his eyes on the office building. He could see only the main set of doors from where he sat, but that was really all he needed to see. The Land Rover hadn’t moved, and Vanessa hadn’t appeared. All he could do was pray that Vanessa had received his text in time, that she’d get low and stay low until after the men were gone.
Finally, just as he was beginning to worry that they’d been inside too long and were going to stay until everyone else arrived for the day, the doors opened and the men exited, climbed into the Land Rover and backed out of their parking spot.
Trading quick glances between the door and the SUV, Eric watched the vehicle roll out of the parking spot onto the access road. They’d made it to the stoplight but were still within his line of sight when the doors of the office building opened again and Vanessa peeked out.
She glanced around, then darted for his car, a bulky box that looked like a slimline desktop CPU tucked under her arm.
The stoplight turned green. The Land Rover moved forward, veered wildly wide, then swung around in an abrupt U-turn.
Vanessa was wide out in the open. Either the criminals had spotted her and turned around to come after her, or they’d forgotten something and turned back to get it. Either way, they’d see her soon enough.
He had to get her out of there.
Starting the car, he put it in Reverse and backed up wide, clear of the trees, then pointed the car toward Vanessa, aiming the passenger side at her path, opening the door just as he reached her.
“Get in!”
She dived inside, and he kept moving even as she pulled her legs in. He’d kept his distance from her thus far out of respect for what she’d been through, but safety was more important than feelings. He grabbed her arm, tugging her into the vehicle as she pulled the door shut after her. She dumped the CPU on the floor mat and buckled her seat belt. “Are they gone?”
“Not quite.” He’d let go of her arm to steer with both hands as he stomped the gas to stay ahead of the vehicle that pursued them.
Squealing tires added emphasis to his words as the Land Rover took a sharp corner into the parking lot.
Eric’s Mustang slid down a grassy median into the next lot. He accelerated toward the access road and the stoplight, which was turning yellow.
Gunning the engine, he made it through just as it turned red above him.
Vanessa looked behind them. “They ran the red light. They’re catching up. Do you know where you’re going?”
“I have a few ideas, but I’m guessing those guys know the neighborhood better than I do.” He got back on the highway and headed out of the city. It was probably a good idea to stay near traffic, thin as it was, for now—with more witnesses around, the criminals might be less likely to try anything.
But Vanessa had more bad news. “They know about the cabin, too.”
“Our cabin?”
“Yes. I overheard them talking while I was hiding inside. They’ve been watching my sister—they said something about guys running a job? I don’t know what that means. I hope they leave her and Sammy alone.”
“They’re too busy chasing us—” Eric’s words were cut off by a sharp sound behind them, and he ducked instinctively. “They’re shooting at us?”
As if to answer his question, another shot sounded.
Vanessa ducked low.
Eric slid down as far as he could in his seat. He needed to be able to see to drive and didn’t dare let the shots scare him into slowing down. Surely that was what the men behind them wanted—they weren’t likely to hit much, especially not given his car’s low profile. But their boxy Land Rover was another story. It sat high above its own tires, exposing them to a direct hit. Vanessa had been quite the shot back in the days when her grandfather taught her marksmanship.
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