Sleepwalker by Karen Robards Read Free Book Online Page B

foot as she regained her balance and stood up, Mick looked around to find the suitcase tipped onto its side in the deep snow beside the path. Mick had thought that her fall had stopped their escape cold. Now she realized it had been his refusal to abandon the stolen money.
    “Get the damn suitcase,” her captor muttered in her ear.
    “Oh my God, can’t you think of anything else?” she hissed back. “You think they’re going to let you keep that money in jail?”
    “Get it.”
    “Let her go,” Otis yelled, reclaiming their attention.
    “Back off,” the thief yelled in reply. Mick felt her gun jab her in the side. Her primary reaction was more annoyance than alarm: she knew the gesture was not so much threat to her per se as posturing for the benefit of the guys. Then, into her ear at a volume meant for her alone, he added, in the tone of a man whose patience was being severely tried, “We’re going to move, then I want you to lean over and pick up that suitcase.”
    “What are you going to do if I refuse?”
    “Believe me, you don’t want to find out.”
    “Ohh, there you go, scaring me again.”
    “You know what? I’m surprised somebody hasn’t shot you before now.”
    “I’m not saying I think you’re Einstein or anything, but I’m guessing you’re smart enough not to shoot me when I’m all that’s standing between you and them .”
    She nodded at Uncle Nicco’s numbskulls, who, clumsy in their confusion, jostled each other and watched as, during the course of this whispered exchange, the thief jimmied her to the edge of the sidewalk next to where the suitcase lay in the snow. Having so many guns aimed at her by her longtime friends and acquaintances was unnerving, she discovered as she faced them. Brains weren’t these guys’ strong suit. It was clear that, faced with a problem such as the one confronting them now, they had no clue what to do. Watching and elbowing one another while making indecisive sounds and vaguely threatening gestures with their weapons was just lame, in Mick’s opinion.
    “Keep away,” the thief warned when Otis took a step forward and a couple of the others followed suit. Otis looked undecided, and Mick knew the others would take their lead from him.
    “Do what he says,” Mick yelled to help them out in the decision-making process.
    “Good girl,” came the slightly surprised sounding whisper in her ear. The arm around her neck shifted abruptly. She felt his fist curl into the back of her tank while the gun eased off enough so that, while it was still aimed at her, it was no longer touching her. “Now pick up the suitcase.”
    I’ll give you good girl, she thought as she did as he told her, but this was not the time. For now, much as she hated to face it, his objective was hers, as well: they both needed to get out of the compound as quickly as possible. Peripherally she was aware of fat flakes of snow falling like fresh-sifted flour, forming a gossamer curtain between her and the guys. They settled on her bare skin like frozen bits of New Year’s confetti and melted where they touched. She blinked as flakes caught on her lashes. Her nose had to be as red as her pants, she knew. Her feet felt like blocks of ice. As soon as she straightened with the suitcase, the thief’s arm once more curved close around her throat.
    Choked again. This time she did elbow him in the ribs. Not hard enough to free herself but with just enough force to get her message across. He grunted, then slightly relaxed his grip.
    “Jackass,” she hissed, just loud enough so that she could be sure he heard.
    “Let her go,” Otis shouted, while the group jostled around and pointed their weapons at her and the thief some more. But the jostling had purpose, Mick saw: the guys were spread out in a C shape now, sneakily working on cutting them off.
    “Don’t come any closer,” the thief yelled and started dragging her back toward the pool house. Every single gun swerved to track them.At