Easy Target by Kay Thomas Read Free Book Online Page B

she’d been able to salvage from her own clothing by rinsing everything out in the sink last night. Not exactly the height of couture, even here in Africa.
    Sassy’s clothes fit and didn’t smell, but that was about all she could say for her “eclectic” look. Her thick curly hair, normally forced into submission with a blow-­dryer and flat iron, was corkscrewing around her face like Medusa’s serpents. She’d broken three nails at the quick, and with no makeup, her self-­confidence had taken a direct hit.
    Normally, she could have dealt with one or two of the issues with aplomb, but all of it together made her feel “less than.” Less than put together, less than having her act together. She’d worked her entire life not to feel less than . Ever since that horrific summer Bryan had left and her life had fallen apart.
    “Surely you didn’t come all this way just to help us out?” Sassy stood a bit taller, giving the other ­couple a skeptic’s gaze.
    She’d never responded well to feeling at a disadvantage. Bryan put a hand on her arm, giving her elbow a slight squeeze as they sat beside each other on the opposite sofa facing Marissa and Gavin.
    Another warning?
    Most likely. Right now, Sassy didn’t give a damn.
    Marissa raised an eyebrow at the contact but didn’t respond to her veiled comment. Instead, she addressed her remarks to Bryan. “We’re trying to find out what’s happening with Ernesto Vega and Tomas Rivera. From what we understand, they’re behind these trumped-­up charges on Gavin.”
    Bryan hadn’t mentioned anything to Sassy about trumped-­up charges, but that didn’t surprise her. Bryan hadn’t said much of anything about his work, today or last night after their mistimed whatever-­the-­hell-­that-­had-­been and the massive in-­room dinner they’d shared.
    They’d turned on the television to avoid talking once the dinner had been delivered, and she’d fallen asleep soon after. She assumed Bryan had slept on either the floor or the tiny sofa. When she’d woken up this morning, he’d been in the shower. Their conversation today had been somewhat superficial until they’d discussed Trey’s trial date being moved. They had not discussed the legal problems of Bryan’s employer.
    “Didn’t Nick tell you?” Bryan’s question pulled her back to the conversation. The heat of his thigh next to hers radiated through her thin cotton dress.
    “Tell me what?” asked Marissa.
    “Ernesto Vega’s dead,” said Bryan. “He was killed early yesterday morning near some Algerian oasis. Nick followed the truck of women that Sassy and Jennifer were with to Constantine and got Jenny out of the warehouse before the truck headed for the coast. Sassy escaped when they had a flat tire near the Casbah. I’m still trying to figure out how they knew to pick her up outside the café in Niamey in the first place. Who told them she was part of this?”
    “Do you think it was Juan Santos?” asked Sassy. “He knew I was here. He practically told me to come.”
    She looked at Gavin and made a concerted effort not to outright stare. Movie star handsome, he was in his early to mid-­forties—­if the salt-­and-­pepper hair and laugh lines around his eyes and mouth were any indication—­and seemed very fit underneath his sport shirt and jeans, pretty much along the same lines as Bryan but leaner.
    Bryan might be taller but not by much. The biggest difference she could see was that Gavin had a distinct sadness to his expression, a coolness that was untouchable. Sassy liked Gavin better than Marissa, even if he was intimidating. She knew how to handle men much better than women.
    When he spoke, his voice was even and deep with very little accent. “That seems a lot of trouble to go to just to get another woman when they kidnap and spirit away so many. It sounds as if you knew something or were poking round in something they didn’t like. Any idea what that could be?”
    The lobby was