Bullseye: Seal. Carol Ericson
“Divorce?” She dropped her phone into her purse. “Your sources aren’t very well-informed. My mother and father never divorced, but they had very little contact after the separation.”
“Did they separate after she discovered his business, or did she know his line of work before they married?”
“Top secret.” Her lips formed a thin line, and she dragged her finger across the seam. If Josh, and the US government, didn’t know the details of her parents’ lives, she sure wasn’t going to inform them.
She still had to protect her mom.
Clasping her purse to her body, she pushed up from the chair. “I’m ready to go.”
Josh hopped up beside her and placed his hand at the small of her back to guide her out of the still-crowded bar. They spilled onto the sidewalk, joining the rest of the late-night revelers, stragglers from spring breaks across the country and snowbirds escaping the last ravages of winter in the Northeast.
A few steps later, and a popping noise had the press of people scattering and yelping in confusion.
Gina tripped over a crack in the sidewalk and stumbled off the curb. The cars in the street honked, as people surged into the road from the sidewalk to escape the firecrackers.
As Gina stood on her tiptoes to find Josh, she noticed from the corner of her eye a car peel away from the curb where it had been illegally parked. She turned toward the white sedan, and the back door flew open. A man lurched into the street and made a beeline for her.
Taking a step backward, Gina bumped into someone who wouldn’t budge. She put a hand out. “Excuse me.”
“Stop pushing, lady. Somebody’s gonna get hurt.”
“Yeah, me.” She twisted her head back around, and the man from the car was an arm’s length away.
Gina shifted sideways, but the man anticipated the move.
His fat fingers clamped around her upper arm and he almost lifted her from her feet as he dragged her toward the sedan.
She dug her heels into the asphalt. She was no match for him, but Josh was.
“Josh! Josh!”
As they got to the open door of the car, Gina grabbed onto the door frame. The big man peeled her fingers from the metal and twisted them back. She screamed amid another flurry of pops.
It was the driver of the car who’d been tossing firecrackers out the window.
Her abductor gave her a hard push from behind, and she fell face forward across the leather seats.
The man from the front seat growled, “Welcome back, Mrs. Rojas.”
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