in him.
Michael was about to give up on his old friend when Paddy appeared in the doorway. Michael waved him over, ordering two more beers.
Paddy sat down with a tired grunt. He rubbed his back at the base of the spine and nodded at Michael without saying a word. The Irishman swallowed half his beer in quick chugs.
Michael waited, feeling impatient.
“Aw,” Paddy said with delight, settling back. “That hit the spot. I did everything you asked of me. It all went as planned.”
“Good.” Michael asked, “Is there anything you need to tell me? I don’t want to stay away from the house for too long.”
“I spoke to our mutual friend. Zu Landis hasn’t been found yet. Sneaky devil. Wouldn’t surprise me a bit if he was behind all of this.”
Michael blinked slowly, keeping his expression neutral. “Anything else?” He popped a pretzel into his mouth. Paddy was a good friend, but Michael trusted very few people these days.
“Yes.” The Irishman grabbed a handful of pretzels himself. “You are to do anything you deem necessary. You have carte blanche. But our friend wants you to know that if you screw up, he’s never heard of you.”
Michael nodded with a grim smile.
Paddy continued, “I’ll keep an eye on the house from my vantage point down the road. If you need anything, just holler.” He groaned, “I hope this doesn’t take long. I’m not sure my back is going to hold up. Sleeping in a car will cripple you faster than anything.”
“I’ve told you for years, you need to hire a partner. That way, you could switch off with him.”
“I don’t want a partner. I’m hoping to retire soon.”
“Aren’t we all?” Sarcasm dripped from Michael’s tongue.
“What about the girl?” Paddy asked. “Is she giving you any trouble? She looked like a little ball of fire to me. Am I right?”
“Kelly Hall,” Michael stated. “That’s her name.”
“Whatever.” The man’s ample middle shook like a bowl of jelly when he laughed, reminding Michael of a demented Santa Claus without the suit. “You always had a way with the ladies.”
“This one is different. I can’t figure her out.”
“How so?”
“She seems so sweet,” Michael said. “But I don’t trust her as far as I can throw her.”
“Good man. Never trust a pretty face.” Paddy shoved a pretzel into his mouth. He stopped crunching long enough to ask, “Are you living in her house now?”
“Of course. I’m her doting fiancé.” He waved a hand at Paddy as if to negate his dirty thoughts. “We don’t share a bed, though. I have a room at the end of an entirely different hallway. I could probably shout my head off and she wouldn’t hear me.”
“That’s convenient. Well, what about this Kelly Hall?” Paddy asked. “Do you think she had something to do with our current situation?”
“My gut tells me no, but I’ll keep my eye on her. As far as I’m concerned, everyone is suspect.” Michael drank half his beer in a few thirsty gulps. It felt good to relax and be himself. “I almost blew it today. I need to watch what I say. That lady is one sharp tack.”
“You can do it,” Paddy said. “I have faith in you. You can manage a cute little blonde with your hands tied behind your back.”
That didn’t sound like too bad of an idea. If he kept his hands tied behind his back, he wouldn’t be able to touch her. Touching her would lead to more trouble than he could handle.
“That woman looks at me and throws me off balance,” Michael admitted. “She’s an enigma. According to the reports you compiled for me, her only friends are an old lady living in the guest house and a mentally retarded man who does handyman work around her place.”
“Speaking of Margo Lane, have you met her yet?” Paddy winked. “She’s a fine looking lady. Not that I’ve been looking. I’m happily married.”
“Of course, you are.” Michael sighed, focusing on the question. “No, I haven’t met the neighbor yet. I saw the handyman. What was his name again? Wade something?”
“Carpenter.” Paddy laughed and slapped the bar. “Carpenter. That’s funny. Like a gardener named Plant or a baker named Baker. Funny, huh?”
Michael’s jaw tightened. He rarely found life amusing. He didn’t have time to ponder puns or think of jokes.
“Any news on where our buddy Landis could be holing up?” Michael asked, his eyebrows raised.
“Oh yeah.” Paddy smiled. “I was just about to get to that. Landis was spotted near Tulsa, Oklahoma. Keep your guard up. He’s too close for comfort.”
“I’d better go.” Michael glanced at his watch. “I have to get some supplies before returning to the house. Did you hear the weather? We may get snowed in.”
He finished his beer and stood up, searching the pockets of his jeans for money to pay for the drinks. His fingers came across a small circular object. He withdrew Kelly’s wedding ring and stared down at it as if it were a snake. The last thing he needed was for her to stumble across a piece of evidence like that. He slapped the ring down on the bar in front of Paddy.
“Do me a favor. Take this thing and get rid of it for me.”
“What do you want me to do with it?”
“I don’t care.” Michael shrugged. “Toss it in the garbage. Pawn it. Whatever.”
The bartender approached with another cold beer. He set it in front of Michael along with a folded piece of paper.
“I didn’t order this,” Michael said.
“It was paid for,” claimed the bartender. “A guy gave me a twenty to deliver the beer and the note.”
“Is that so?” Paddy asked. “What man?”
The bartender briefly scanned the bar. “I think he left right after he paid me. Enjoy the beer.”
Michael unfolded the note and read it. It was simple and to the point, stirring fear deep in the pit of his stomach. “First the girl. Then you.”
“What is it?” Paddy grabbed the note, reading it for himself. He swore beneath his beer-laden breath.
“Kelly,” Michael said, “I have to hurry. She could be in danger.”
“Do you need me?”
“Not yet.” He shook his head. “Stick to the plan. I’ll call you.”
Michael raced out the door, note in hand. He climbed into the Mustang and gunned the engine, determined to save Kelly. He told himself it was part of his job. He saved lives when possible. No one under his care died without a hard fight from him. He would die for the people he protected. He assured himself that Kelly was no more important than any of the others he’d guarded. It was nothing personal.
So why were his hands shaking like a tree in a hurricane?
THE GARAGE FLOOR was solid concrete. Smudges of dirt and oil stained the gray surface like an abstract painting. There were several holes in the ceiling, which was propped up on weathered wooden beams. Kelly rattled the door handles, but they wouldn’t budge. Taking a deep breath, she ran at one door and delivered a karate kick.
A horrible sound that made Kelly think of a dinosaur screaming in rage forced her eyes heavenward. She watched helplessly as a large beam sagged, the metal sheeting groaning in protest.
She backed away slowly.
Wrapping her arms around her body to