Blossom Street Bundle (Books 1-5). Debbie Macomber
two, echoed in a falsetto voice, raising his right arm and dangling his wrist. “We got ourselves a genuine lady here.”
“High society.”
“Lots of money.”
“Now give it up, bitch.”
Jacqueline clutched her purse tighter against her side. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Never could refuse a dare, could we, Larry?”
“Shut up,” the other man shouted, obviously angry that his friend had said his name. He pulled out a switchblade and brandished it in front of Jacqueline.
Despite her determination to remain calm, she gasped. The blade gleamed in what little light had broken through the alley.
He held out his arm as if he expected her to meekly hand over her purse, and Jacqueline realized this wasn’t a request but a command. Any resistance would surely be met with violence.
Although she wasn’t aware she’d released it, her designer bag fell to the asphalt.
“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you,” a brusque female voice shouted from behind Jacqueline. “Aren’t you on probation, Ralph? Be a real shame to see your sorry ass back in jail so soon.”
It took Jacqueline a moment to recognize Alix Townsend’s voice. Alix, the girl she considered a felon and a crude punk rocker, had risked her own life and come to her rescue.
“Stay out of this,” Larry growled, baring his teeth at the two women.
“Sorry, guys,” Alix said, waltzing forward, “but this lady happens to be a good friend of mine.”
Jacqueline stayed where she was, incapable of moving. Even her breathing had gone shallow.
Larry looked at the purse. “You want her for yourself,” he muttered. He clenched the knife tighter and raised it.
A clicking sound followed but the noise didn’t immediately register in Jacqueline’s mind. Then she understood. Alix carried a switchblade of her own.
“They can have the money.” Jacqueline didn’t care; she just wanted both of them out of this mess without getting hurt.
“No, they can’t,” Alix yelled as the two men started toward them. “Get over to the yarn store.”
“No.” Jacqueline didn’t know where she found the courage, but she scooped up her purse and swung it wildly at the two men. She’d paid seven hundred dollars for the Gucci bag and it served her well, connecting with a solid crunch against the shorter man’s head. Ralph howled with pain.
“What’s going on back here?” Lydia shouted from the rear door of her shop.
“Call 9-1-1,” Jacqueline screamed, panic raising her voice.
Alix crouched forward, her arms outstretched with a switchblade firmly gripped in her left hand. The men looked at the two women and at the empty door frame where Lydia had stood only seconds earlier. They glanced at each other and then ran for it, racing past Jacqueline and Alix.
As soon as they were out of sight, Jacqueline started to shake. The trembling began in her hands, and quickly moved down her arms and legs until it seemed that her knees had taken on a life of their own.
“Are you okay?” Alix asked.
Jacqueline shook her head.
“The police are on their way,” Lydia called.
“Larry and Ralph are gone now.” Alix wrapped her arm around Jacqueline’s waist and guided her through the back door of Lydia’s shop.
The table where they sat for their classes seemed a mile away before Jacqueline reached it and literally fell into a chair.
“I … I could’ve been murdered.” She’d seen the look in those men’s eyes. God only knew what they would’ve done to her if Alix hadn’t come into the alley when she had.
“Alix,” she gasped. “You saved my life.” In that moment, Jacqueline wanted to call back every ugly thought she’d ever had regarding the young woman. She didn’t care what color Alix dyed her hair. The girl had saved her from a fate she could hardly imagine.
Alix sat down next to her, and Jacqueline soon noticed that she was badly shaken, too. She’d put on a brave front when she confronted the two men, but she’d been terrified.
A siren blared outside and Lydia dashed to the front of the store to wait for the patrolmen. A few minutes later, two police officers entered the shop.
All three women started talking at once. Jacqueline felt she should be the one to explain; she was the one who’d been accosted, after all. She continued speaking, raising her voice in order to be heard above the other two.
“One at a time, ladies,” the first officer said, holding up his hand. He was young and clean-cut and reminded her of her son. Paul would be outraged when he learned she’d nearly been mugged.
The officer started with Jacqueline and when he’d finished, he asked Alix a few questions and finally Lydia. Each woman described the men in slightly different ways, although Alix seemed reluctant to discuss the matter. At first she didn’t reveal their names, but if Alix had forgotten, Jacqueline hadn’t.
With their descriptions known, plus their first names, it made sense that the two hoodlums would be apprehended shortly. Jacqueline had already decided to press charges. All the while she was speaking, she clutched her Gucci bag with both hands.
“You two know each other?” the patrolman asked, glancing from Jacqueline to Alix.
“Of course,” Jacqueline said. “We’re taking knitting classes together.”
“Yeah,” Alix muttered, and defiantly tilted her chin in their direction as if daring him to challenge her. “Jacqueline and I are friends.”
“She saved me from God knows what,” Jacqueline murmured.
The officer shook his head. “It would’ve been smarter just to give them your purse.”
Jacqueline knew he was right. All the survival manuals stated that in such a situation, the best course of action was to drop the purse and run.
Once the policemen had left, Jacqueline looked over at Alix who remained seated at the table across from her. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
“You owe me.”
Jacqueline nodded in full agreement. She still wasn’t sure what had led Alix into the alley. When questioned by the police she explained that she’d seen Jacqueline go in there and didn’t think it was a safe place for her friend to be. So she’d followed her. And Jacqueline would be forever grateful that she had.
Her one concern was that she owed Alix now. She could only speculate what the girl would want as payment.
24
CHAPTER
CAROL GIRARD
The two days following the IVF procedure had been the worst. The specialist had instructed Carol to stay perfectly still for forty-eight hours. The enforced rest got on her nerves after only a few hours, but with every breath she drew, with every solid beat of her heart, she made herself think positive, nurturing thoughts.
She was all too aware that she was at the very end of the road, technologically speaking, for a biological child. She and Doug had decided this was it. They got their three chances through the insurance company and two of them were gone. IVF was expensive, time-consuming, unpredictable and uncertain. Correction, some aspects of the procedure were a certainty. Injections, frequent bloodwork and ultrasounds. She’d been poked and prodded so often she barely noticed it anymore.
Carol refused to allow herself to dwell on any of the negatives. This time she’d have her baby. This time at least one of the fertilized