cop’s stare intensified. “Are you telling me your car was stolen with the kid inside?”
“Yes, from the Clancy Supermarket parking lot just blocks from here.”
His mouth drew into two tight lines. “In that case, we’ve just gone from a major traffic accident to an attempted kidnapping. Excuse me a minute. I need to call the precinct and let them know what’s going on here.”
Whitfield stepped away and made the call on his cell phone. Alexis took a deep breath as her insides began to roll again. The last thing she needed was yet more cops snooping into her life.
“If you know who stole the car, you should level with the officer,” Tague said, keeping his voice low enough that she doubted Whitfield had heard it.
“Are you suggesting I knew that punk?”
“I’m not suggesting anything, except that Whitfield seems to be making you awful nervous.”
“It’s not him that’s making me nervous. It’s the situation.”
It also worried her that Tague’s reassuring manner was so disarming. It tempted her to trust him when she knew she didn’t dare.
A hammering sensation started just below her right temple as Whitfield rejoined them.
“I’ll take a statement from you now,” the cop said, “but a detective will be in touch with you to follow up later today.”
“There’s not much I can tell you or a detective. I had just gotten to the supermarket and was getting out of my car when a thug walked up and demanded my keys. I struggled, but he had muscles—and a pistol.”
“Is that how you got that black eye and the knot on the back of your head?”
She reached back and felt the tender flesh swelling beneath her hair. No wonder she was getting such a headache. “I fell backward and into a rearview mirror when he punched me.”
“Did you call 911?” Whitfield asked.
“I made an attempt while we were chasing after the thief. I’d just started explaining the situation when the collision occurred. I think I just dropped the phone at that point, but I don’t actually remember. I was too panicked to think.”
“You broke the connection. The dispatcher reported it, but we didn’t have a name or a location. We figured it was a hoax, but she was trying to get a location anyway.”
The cop nodded toward to Tague. “Are you the boy’s father?”
“No,” Alexis said quickly, answering for him. “There is no father, at least not one who’s in the picture. I’m divorced.” And please let the cop and the detective leave it at that.
“We’ve just met,” Tague explained. “I happened to be at the right place at the right time.”
“And you are?”
“Tague Lambert.”
“Any kin to the late Hugh Lambert?”
“I’m his youngest son.”
The cop shifted and rubbed a spot over his right ear as his attitude did some adjusting. “Mr. Lambert was a good man. I arrested him once for speeding. I had no idea he was good friends with the chief of police. Not that I would have done anything differently, mind you.”
“Of course not.”
“Point is, instead of pulling rank on me and expecting favors, he sent my supervisor a letter commending me for the professional way I handed the violation.”
“That was Dad,” Tague said. “Praise if you deserved it. A reaming-out if you didn’t.”
“Like I said, a good man.” Whitfield swatted at a mosquito that buzzed his ear. “Did you witness the carjacking, Mr. Lambert?”
“No. Alexis had chased the car into the middle of the street when I spotted her. I threw on my brakes to miss her. She jumped in my truck and ordered me to catch up to the Honda. I could tell she meant business, so I jumped to it.”
“Trying to follow him was a smart move on your part,” Whitfield said, turning his attention back to Alexis. “Had the perp not wrecked that car, no telling where he might have taken your son or what might have happened after that.”
Alexis shuddered at the thought. But Tague had been there for her, a hero in jeans, boots and a cowboy hat. He might be only an urban cowboy, but he looked tanned, virile and hard-bodied enough to be the real thing. He’d be a great guy to have for a friend—had she been in a position to have friends.
Whitfield pulled a pen and a small notebook from his shirt pocket. “So tell me exactly what occurred in the parking lot, Mrs. Beranger.”
Once she started relating the incident, the details poured out. She was amazed at how much she remembered considering her state of mind at the time and how fast everything had happened.
Before she finished, an ambulance arrived on the scene. The sirens sent Tommy into another meltdown. He began to scream.
She picked him up and tried to reassure him as two paramedics rushed to where they were standing, apparently at the directions of one of the other police officers.
It took her several minutes to convince them that in spite of her bruises and the bump on her head, she didn’t require their assistance and neither did her wailing son.
“I’ll see a doctor and I’ll definitely have my son checked out,” she insisted. “But putting him in an ambulance will only frighten him more. Honestly, he seemed fine before you arrived. He’s crying because he’s afraid of strangers and sirens, not because he’s in pain.”
They still had her sign a waiver asserting she’d refused their services.
“I’m sure you realize that your car will have to be towed,” Whitfield said.
“I know it’s not drivable.”
“Since you turned down the ambulance, you should either call a friend to pick you up and take you and the boy to the nearest emergency room, or I can have an officer drive you there. I suggest the former. It would be quicker and you don’t want to stand around in this heat any longer than you have to.”
“I’ve already taken care of that,” she lied. The last thing she needed was to spend any unnecessary time with a cop. Nor did she need the prying questions of emergency room personnel unless it was necessary for Tommy’s well-being. Anonymity was her best protection.
Whitfield asked a few more questions and then put his notebook away.
“There’s been a rash of shootings in this area lately,” Whitfield continued, “all related to drugs or gang activity. Considering the violence these junkies are capable of, you’re fortunate that the car is all you lost.”
“Actually, I think the thief made off with her handbag,” Tague said. “I got a quick glimpse of the driver when he fled the vehicle. He was holding what looked like
