Split Second by Catherine Coulter Read Free Book Online

shouldn’t be weaving around like that. He frowned. Maybe she couldn’t hold her drink, but still, something wasn’t right. What was it?
    Liz Rogers was happy, and that was good, even though she knew well enough life would be grim tomorrow morning when she had to face reality again, and that reality was her mother. She’d had to bail her mother out of jail yet again, this time for shoplifting at Marnie’s, an upscale clothing boutique, and so she’d decided to stop at Chilly’s Bar, only a block over from her mother’s condo. Their wine was expensive, but then Todd—with two d ’s—had come in and lightened her load and listened to all her woes, and paid for a glass of the swank white wine.
    She had really dumped on him, bless him, and he’d told her he’d walk her home. She’d meant to tell him she didn’t live in this neighborhood, that her mom did, but she forgot. When they stepped outside Chilly’s, she took a breath of the cold night air and realized she had to cut this nice man loose and get a taxi.
    She smiled up at Todd and pulled out her cell phone. “I’ve got to call a taxi.”
    “Why? You live right here in the neighborhood. I’d love to walk you home, Lizzie.”
    “Nope, this isn’t my neighborhood; it’s my mom who lives here.”
    There was a slight pause, then he said, “Then I’ll take the taxi with you and walk you up.”
    “Nah, that’s too much trouble; don’t bother.” No sooner had she spoken than she felt a wave of dizziness and a sudden sick feeling twist in her stomach. Great, this was all she needed after dealing with her mother and the cops and a low-life bail bondsman named Lucky Tasker.
    “Are you okay, Liz?”
    “Something hit me—I felt like I was going to fall over. Sorry, Todd, it’s been a long day.”
    She dialed for a taxi. Ten minutes, she was told, and smiled up at Todd. “I think I’ll go back into Chilly’s and stay warm, wait there.”
    “Let’s stay out here. I’ll keep you warm.”
    She felt nausea roil in her stomach, threaten to come up into her throat. “I’m going to be sick, Todd. I’ve gotta get to the bathroom.”
    But he had his hand on her arm, pulling her back. The streetlight was ten feet away, and shadows were hanging long and deep, and as black as the lacy underwear she’d just bought on sale.
    Why was she thinking about her underwear? She felt another wave of nausea and jerked as hard as she could, but he didn’t let her go.
    “Look, Todd—” Her words were loud and slurred. Clear as a bell, she heard her mother’s dead-drunk voice slurring insults at her—mean, vicious insults—and it scared her so badly it gave her focus, sharpened her brain, and she saw everything very clearly. She said slowly, on eye level with him, “You son of a bitch, you drugged me.” She slammed her fist into his face. He didn’t have time to duck the blow, but it didn’t have much punch because she was weaving around like a drunk, wanting to puke but too scared, too furious with this jerk, to get sick yet. Todd grabbed her hand and pulled her arm down to her side. “No, Lizzie, it’ll be all right, you’ll see. I wouldn’t drug anybody. Let’s walk, okay? You’ll feel better, you’ll see.”
    Not on your miserable life. She pulled her arm free and dug her nails in his cheek as he tried to jerk his head out of the way.
    He yelled, stumbled back, and clapped his hand to his bleeding face. He screamed an obscenity at her and came toward her. What was he doing? She saw him pull a length of wire out of his jacket pocket. Wire? Liz threw back her head and screamed until she vomited. Then she swiped the vomit from her mouth and kept screaming. She felt like she was dying, her stomach twisting in on itself, and her head was spinning, but thank God, Todd was running away now, holding his hand to his face. She sank to her knees and saw the bartender from Chilly’s running toward her and shouting, “Hey, what’s going on? Liz, you all right? I