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I didn't pull the gun right away. He was unarmed, and he might be bigger than me, but I still hoped to reason with him. I'm an optimist. Not the best character trait in this game, but not one I'm letting go of without a fight. Speaking of fight . . .

We grappled. I managed to get hold of his chin and force his head up.

"Did you not notice the renovation stuff everywhere?" I said, grunting as he pressed down on me.

"Sure," he wheezed as I kept forcing his head up. "We brought it in."

"What's it for?"

"Renovation. You really are a stupid--"

"I'm not the stupid one. There's no renovation. It's for an insurance claim. When the place blows up, they'll find the renovation supplies, and the owner can claim it was under construction. It's a half-assed scheme by someone who's not too bright himself, but that is the plan. Blow this place up. Cash in on the insurance. And if you guys get in the way . . . Well, someone probably has insurance on you, too."

Sound reasoning, but it was like waving a red flag. He knew I was right, and it pissed him off, and since his boss wasn't here to bear the brunt of his rage . . .

Lucky me.

The guy exploded, ripped from my grip and slammed his fist into what should have been my stomach, but I'd twisted to grab my gun. I pointed it at him.

"Fine," I said. "Have it your way. If this is the only language you underst

and--"

He tried to take the gun. I kicked him and partially wriggled from under him.

"I really don't want to--" I began.

He pulled back his fist . . . and a two-by-four smacked into the side of his head. I looked up to see Jack standing over me.

"Thank you," I said. "I really didn't want to shoot him. He wasn't armed."

Jack shook his head. The thug started to rise. Jack whacked him again, almost off-hand. Then he reached down to help me up.

"You okay?" he said.

"Better than him," I said, nodding at the thug lying prone on the ground. "We need to get--"

At a sound, I turned to see Quinn hobbling toward us.

"I was moving too slow," he said. "Jack gave up on me."

"Rescued you, didn't I?" Jack said.

"Which you are never going to let me forget."

"You smarten up? I'll never mention it again."

Quinn rolled his eyes and gave me a one-armed hug. "Let's get out of here before the whole place comes down."

Leaving wasn't easy--back-tracking the way Jack came would have been too dangerous and we'd need to avoid any potential rescuers of the official variety. So we found a new route. At one point, we had to crawl through a narrow gap. Jack barely fit. Quinn did not.

"I'll find a way around," Quinn said. "Keep going."

Jack ducked back to the hole and said, "Go left. Saw a spot there. We'll wait."

When he straightened, I said, "Thank you," and hugged him. It was just meant to be a quick embrace, but he returned it with a fierce squeeze and then lifted my chin, saying, "Long as we're waiting . . ." and kissed me, a deep, passionate kiss that told me just how worried he'd been.

When he pulled back, he said, "Love you. You know that, right?"


Tags: Kelley Armstrong Nadia Stafford Mystery