In Harm's Way by Lyn Stone Read Free Book Online

red nylon apron. “Broke my coffeepot, too.” Then her gaze jerked toward Robin. “Y’all didn’t get hurt, did ya?”
    â€œNo, we’re fine. That silent alarm works pretty good,” Mitch commented. “Quick thinking, Mabel. You’re a peach.”
    â€œThank you for tellin’ me I needed the thing.” She brushed herself off with a towel and smiled over the counter at Mitch, then at Robin. There were tears in her eyes, and she sniffed. “Y’all will have to wait a little bit until I get another carafe out of the back and get some more coffee goin’.”
    â€œDon’t worry about the order,” Mitch told her gently. “You look a little shaky. Why don’t you just relax and catch your breath.”
    â€œDon’t leave!” whined Mabel, reaching out toward Mitch with a trembling hand. “Don’t go now.”
    Mitch took it and smiled at her. “I won’t go yet, Mabel. But you go on and take a break, huh? Powder your nose and fix your hair. I’ll be here when you get back.”
    She nodded and sidled down the back of the bar, around it and toward the door marked Ladies.
    Robin knew how poor Mabel felt. Right now she wanted Mitch Winton and his gun as close by as they could get. He seemed to know that and came over to join her in the booth.
    â€œYou’re a scrapper. I wouldn’t have guessed it.” His chuckle was warm, approving. “Surprised the hell out of him, plowing that fork through his hand. Glad you were on my side.”
    Robin stared at him, not sure whether she was upset at his apparent calm or reassured by it. She glanced at the door. “They might come back.”
    He laughed outright at that, then grimaced, grasping his side.
    â€œYou’re hurt!” Robin cried, sliding out of the booth.
    â€œNo, no, sit back down. I took a kick to the ribs. Nothing serious. Either those guys really were as big as they looked or I’m gettin’ soft in my old age.”
    â€œThey could have shot you!” she cried. “What did you mean rushing them that way?”
    He sighed and leaned back, his fingers still exploring the site of his injury. “You made him so mad with that fork, I was afraid he would shoot you if I didn’t move on him right then. They heard the siren and split before I could do much.”
    Robin raked her hair back behind her ears, shook her head and gave a deflated sigh. “James’s death and now a robbery. What next?”
    He leaned forward over the table and peered into her eyes. “Robin, he went straight for you. Once he had threatened Mabel, he never even looked at her again. His buddy was standing lookout at the door. Neither one asked for the contents of the register. Never demanded my wallet. They knew I was a cop, knew my name, but I’ve never seen them before. I think they knew who you are, too. It was your purse they were after. Didn’t you hear him?”
    â€œNo, I wasn’t really listening.” Robin frowned down at the thin strap that lay securely around her neck and across her body, the leather rectangle resting against her hip. “My purse? But why? Do I look rich?”
    Mitch smiled. “As a matter of fact you do, but I don’t think it was your money he was after. It was something else. What do you have in there?”
    She lifted the purse onto the table and opened it. “Powder, lipstick.” Robin listed the items as she emptied the contents piece by piece. “Credit cards, address book, a bit of cash, James’s CD, a small brush, old theater ticket stubs and,” she said, plunking down a little spray can, “pepper spray.” She frowned and scoffed. “I should have remembered that. I completely forgot I had it. All I could think about was locating the knife.”
    Mitch picked up the spray container and turned it around several times, then shot her a questioning look. “Somehow, I