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A Honeybun and Coffee [Honeybun Hunks Series: Book 1]

Page 3

by Sam Cheever


  "Okay."

  When Angie came back out of the bathroom Alastair was standing by the door to the garage with a large duffle bag in his hand. It appeared to be pretty full. Jaws stood next to him on stubby legs, his deep little chest about two inches above the floor, making goo eyes at her.

  "You ready?"

  Angie nodded. “Let me grab my keys."

  Alastair shook his head and grabbed her arm. “You have to leave your car here. I'm sure they rummaged through the glove compartment and probably know where you live by now. I'm driving."

  Angie's eyes popped again. “Oh hell no. I'm not riding in anything that goes over five miles an hour with you behind the wheel ever again. Maybe a go cart ... someday ... when I'm too old and feeble to remember that motorcycle ride."

  Alastair dragged her toward the garage. “Technically I was not behind a wheel on the bike. But we don't have time to argue anyway. They'll probably be coming back when they realize you're not at your house or at work."

  "At work?” Angie's voice squawked unbecomingly as she realized just how deeply she'd embedded herself in Alastair Honeybun's mess.

  No good deed ever goes unpunished.

  "Where are we going? Angie climbed into the passenger side door of a shiny, black crossover vehicle.

  "No clue.” He responded helpfully.

  "How about my sister's house? She'll be at work and I have a key. We'll have time to regroup."

  He nodded, “Let's go."

  * * * *

  * * * *

  Cinnamon Parker had divorced a very rich, very powerful man. Which explained why she lived in a huge, old, refurbished mansion in the wealthy section of town. Angie had never felt right about going into that house when her sister was married. But now that she was divorced she was making peace with the place. It was just so elegant and opulent feeling, and Angie prided herself on being more of a practical sort. Somewhere down deep in the folds of her brain she realized this vision of herself was based on a realistic idea that she wasn't going to get rich anytime soon. It saved her a lot of disappointment for the future.

  The first thing she did when they entered her sister's house through the back door was to call work. Celeste Springer, her other young assistant, answered the phone after about the tenth ring. “Celeste, it's Angie. How are things there?"

  Since the girl was young and prone to dramatics, Angie expected her to respond in exclamation points. Celeste didn't disappoint.

  "OMG, Ang, we've just been swamped all day! Where are you?! Petey thought you might have crashed or something! Are you coming back?! Did those two men find you?!"

  Angie gulped and her eyes shot to Alastair, who was adding water to a cereal bowl for Jaws. “What two men?” Alastair's head jerked in her direction and his sexy blue eyes widened.

  Angie hung up after getting Celeste to promise that she and Petey would stay until closing time and lock up for her. She felt guilty leaving the shop to the two kids but, since they were both always looking for overtime hours she didn't feel all that guilty. Satisfied that at least that detail was addressed satisfactorily, Angie turned back to Alastair and the problem at hand. “The thugs came back to the store looking for me. You were right, they apparently know who I am now too."

  Angie dropped her butt into a chair at her sister's table and fought panic. Taking deep, yogic breaths to calm herself, she struggled to think.

  Alastair laid a large, warm hand on her back and rubbed in gentle circles. “I'm sorry you had to get mixed up in this, Angie. Whatever it is.” He frowned.

  Angie looked up at him. “You still don't know why they want to kill you?"

  Alastair pulled the chair next to her out and sat down, dropping his head into his hands. “I've thought about everywhere I've gone for the last week and nothing. I haven't done much except work. I went to the grocery a couple of days ago, other than one woman who was way too aggressive with a cantaloupe for my taste, I didn't see anything out of the ordinary there."

  "How about angry clients?"

  Alastair lifted his dark red head out of his hands and focused clear blue eyes on her. She realized he was still pale and a little sweaty. With everything that had been going on she'd nearly forgotten that he was sick. But under the clammy pallor she realized he was exceptionally good looking. “Things have been good at work. The market's strong and I've been making lots of money for people. I can't think of any of my clients who would be mad enough at me to try to kill me."

  They lapsed into a thoughtful silence that lasted until Angie's stomach rumbled insistently. She looked up and grinned at him. “You hungry?"

  He laughed. “Yeah, that was my stomach rumbling."

  Angie stood up. “I'm gonna make myself a grilled cheese sandwich, you interested?"

  "You got any tomato soup to go with it?"

  "I'll see what I can find."

  Twenty minutes later they sat munching grilled cheese. Alastair had cut his sandwich into inch wide strips and was dunking them in his tomato soup. Angie grinned every time he did it. He caught her grinning at him and smiled back. “My mother always served grilled cheese this way. It's comfort food for me.” He shrugged.

  Angie opened her mouth to ask him about his family when the driveway sensor went off. She jumped up and ran to the dining room of the big house, which had the only window with a clear view of the driveway. A dark blue SUV was winding its way slowly up the drive. “Holy Shit!"

  Alastair joined her at the window. “It's probably them. They must have good connections if they found your sister this fast."

  Angie's heart pounded in her chest and she was suddenly afraid the grilled cheese would come back up. “We can't get to the car."

  Alastair's MKX was sitting in front of the garage. The SUV pulled up behind it and they watched the two thugs from the coffee shop climb out. One of them was holding a gun.

  "Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!” Angie muttered.

  Alastair grabbed her hand. “Let's go!"

  She let herself be dragged from the room but panic was making her lethargic and her reasoning functions had all but shut down. “Where are we going? They have us trapped."

  "I don't know but we're not just gonna sit here and wait to get shot!"

  Angie gasped and tears rolled down her cheeks.

  Alastair scooped up Jaws and they flew out the back door into the yard. Running as fast as he could while dragging Angie and holding his dog, Alastair crossed the big yard at a gallop and pushed through the thick line of huge evergreen trees at the back of the property. What he saw on the other side of the tree line made him curse. The neighbors apparently hadn't trusted the tree line to keep them separate, they'd installed an eight foot high wooden fence too.

  Running along between the fence and the prickly tree line, they searched for a door into the yard. After what felt like a mile they reached the corner and turned, continuing to follow the fence toward the street beyond. As they neared the street Angie heard voices behind them.

  She tugged on Alastair's hand. He nodded, “I know, I heard them. Can you run faster?"

  She was already huffing and puffing. Working every day behind a counter and doing power yoga every night apparently wasn't good training for running for your life. But she forced herself to pick up speed and, when they hit the street they saw a taxi idling at the curb.

  "Thank God!” Angie gasped. They ran toward the cab, threw themselves into it, and Alastair yelled, “Move, now!"

  The little old woman in the front seat turned to them and smiled, her little gray head bobbling dangerously on a scrawny neck as she saw the little dog and started making automatic cooing noises. “What a cute baby. Hello sweetie, what's your name?"

  Alastair's head had been swiveling around frantically as the old woman dithered and fussed, reaching a gnarled old hand toward Jaws and laughing in pleasure as the little dog gave her hand an affectionate lick.

  "Lady, we want to hire this cab, but we're in a real hurry. Do you think we could leave now
?” Alastair's pale, sweaty face had grown even paler as the two men emerged from the trees behind them. The thugs spotted the cab almost immediately and started toward it.

  The old woman was looking back and forth, from the house where the cab was parked to the little dog. Her confusion was obvious. “I told him I'd wait here.” She said.

  The two men were nearly on them. Alastair screamed, “Lady, drive!"

  She jerked and turned around, gunning the engine without putting the cab into drive. Alastair surged over the seat and grabbed the gear shift, plunging it into drive before the engine slowed down so that the car jerked forward immediately, leaving a patch on the road behind them.

  The two thugs broke into a run and Alastair screamed again, “Drive this damn cab lady! Now!"

  The old woman stomped on the gas and they flew away from the curb, narrowly missing the cars that were parked on either side of the street as they went.

  The old woman's hands on the steering wheel were shaking and her eyes were impossibly wide, but after a moment she let out a whoop and settled in to enjoy the experience.

  They lost the two men fairly quickly but then the cab started slowing down until they were nearly crawling down the street. Angie, who had been watching anxiously out the back window, gave Alastair a meaningful glance and he leaned toward the old woman in the front seat. “Excuse me ma'am, can you drive this thing any faster?"

  She grinned at him. “Not with a baby on board,” she gave Jaws a meaningful glance and the little dog barked in response."

  Alastair flung himself back into the seat with a muttered curse.

  "No cursing, young man.” The woman's shaky voice didn't take away from the note of maternal censure that came standard with all mother models. Alastair muttered an automatic apology and rolled his eyes at Angie. She grinned and shook a finger at him until he smiled.

  They creaked and wobbled down the street until Alastair couldn't take it anymore. He finally dug his wallet out of his pocket and told the old lady to stop the cab. He handed her a twenty dollar bill and they climbed out of the back seat. They left her sitting there staring at the bill like she'd never seen one before.

  "Who the hell lets an old lady drive a cab anyway.” Alastair complained as they jogged up the street.

  Angie nodded in breathless agreement. “Where are we going?"

  "How the hell do I know, I'm winging it here."

  As they ran they kept an eye out for the dark blue SUV. They were just passing the YMCA when they spotted it coming toward them and they ducked inside. Huddled in the entranceway they watched the car roll slowly by, the gun wielding thug staring toward them as they passed.

  "Do you think he saw us?” Angie asked, still gasping for breath.

  "I don't think so, they'd have stopped if they had.” After a couple of minutes they peered out the door and saw that the SUV had stopped beside the cab and one of the men was leaning down, talking to the elderly cab driver.

  Angie didn't know if the woman had seen them duck into the building but she wasn't willing to wait around to find out. Grabbing Alastair's hand she gave it a tug. “Come on."

  He tucked Jaws into the front of his jacket and followed. “Where are you taking me?"

  "I take yoga classes here, there's a door that leads into an alley at the back of the building. We sometimes go out that way because it's closer to the parking lot."

  She pulled him down a hallway that smelled like chlorine and past a large room filled with people who were twisted into human pretzels. The woman at the front of the class looked up as they passed and waved at Angie.

  Angie smiled and waved back but didn't slow down. Finally they pushed through a battered, metal door into a foul smelling alley. Angie dropped his hand and they stopped. “Now what?” Alastair asked.

  She shook her head and tears started to flow down her cheeks again. “The police?"

  He stared at her for a long moment and then nodded. “There's a station right down the street isn't there?"

  She nodded and they took off at a jog through the alley. Keeping as much as they could to the alleyways, they managed to find the police station after about a half hour. Unfortunately, when they got there they saw the dark blue SUV sitting in the parking lot.

  "Holy Shit!” Angie said, turning to Alastair, “Do you think the cops are in on this?"

  He laughed. “You've been watching too many action movies. I'm guessing our guys just figured this might be where we were headed and thought they'd keep us from talking to the cops.” He looked around the area.

  Angie nodded but still looked worried. “What do we do now?"

  Alastair grabbed her hand. “We find someplace to hide and call the police. They can't stop us from calling right?"

  Angie smiled. “No. They can't do that."

  They slipped back down the nearest alley and emerged on the next street over. “If I remember right,” said Alastair, “there was a hotel near here. I think it's a few streets over."

  They walked for a few minutes in silence, buried in their respective thoughts, until Alastair spotted the hotel a few blocks away. They started toward the place at a jog. Suddenly, the sound of tires squealing on the pavement behind them made Angie turn and she saw the front end of a large, dark car heading in her direction. She stood rooted to the spot in horror, waiting for impact.

  But at the last second the car swerved away and stopped. The front, passenger side door opened into Alastair, hitting him hard in the arm and shoulder as he instinctively turned to protect Jaws and sending him to the pavement. The man called Louie emerged from the front seat, grabbed Angie's arm, and started pulling her toward the car. The back door was open, Bones crouched inside. He looked ready to help haul her into the SUV.

  They each grabbed an arm. Angie kicked and snapped her teeth at them and generally made like a porcupine. All prickly and unpleasant to handle. The two thugs grunted and cursed as they tried to pull her into the SUV.

  Angie stuck out a foot and wedged it on the frame below the door, then locked her knee. She started screaming, wondering where Alastair was.

  Just as Bones reached down to grab her ankle, something small and bouncy shot toward his hand and he jerked it back with a less than manly scream. Then the whirling bundle of fur, teeth, and frenetic energy hit Louie's ankle and he screamed too, dropping her arm in shock and throwing out a foul line of curses.

  Angie reached up and smacked the thug hard in the nose with the flat of her hand. His head snapped back and blood spurted from it. “Ow! You bitch!"

  Louis growled and made another grab for her but Bones gripped his arm. “We got witnesses. Let's leave ‘em for now."

  Louie looked her in the eye and smiled a not so nice smile. “We'll be back, honey.” Then he jumped into the car and they sped away.

  Angie let her head drop to the sidewalk and gave a shaky sigh of relief. Jaws jumped onto her chest and licked away her tears, whining softly. She cradled the little dog's head gently between her hands and gave him a kiss on the nose. “Thanks buddy. You probably saved my life."

  Jaws wagged his skinny tail so hard his butt wagged with it. Then Angie heard a groan and looked over at Alastair, who was just sitting up. He was rubbing his head.

  "Are you okay?"

  He looked at her through narrowed, pain filled eyes. “I hit my damn head when I fell, I think it knocked me out. What the hell happened anyway?"

  Angie climbed to her feet and scooped Jaws up safely into her arms. Walking over to Alastair she reached down and offered him a hand. He took it and stood up, groaning and grabbing his head with the other hand.

  "Those two thugs tried to pull me into their car. Jaws stopped them."

  Alastair reached out and gave the little dog's head an affectionate scratch. “That's daddy's good, little boy."

  Jaws barked and his back half wagged happily.

  Angie couldn't suppress a smile, which Alastair saw. He had the good grace to blush. “I know, I sound like a dandy man don't I
? I can't help it, he brings out the woman in me."

  Angie laughed outright while nodding in agreement. “I can understand it, he's so little and cute. But trust me, you don't want to get on the wrong side of him in a fight. This cute little exterior hides a lion's heart and a grizzly bear's attitude."

  Alastair grimaced. “We need to get off the street in case they come back.” He looked around. “I don't think it's a good idea to go to that hotel after all. They'll expect us to go there now. He thought about it for a moment and then reached into his pocket. “I'll call a cab."

  Angie's voice rose a few octaves, “You have a cell phone? Why the hell didn't we use it two hours ago to call the police?"

  He looked at her like she had horns and a forked tail. “Are you crazy? They can trace us through a cell phone call."

  She stared at him for a minute then shook her head and fell into step beside him as he started walking. “Now who's been watching too many movies,” she mumbled.

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  Chapter Three

  Deciding it made more sense to find a place to hide out and discuss their next steps before calling the police, Alastair called a cab and they took it to the car rental section of the airport, where they rented a midsized car and headed into the rolling hills of Brown County. Exhausted from the events of the day, Angie laid her head back on the seat and dozed off. When she woke up the sun was sinking behind a thick line of trees and they were turning into a stone driveway that wound up a fairly steep incline through a dense line of overhanging trees.

  The log house at the top of the driveway was small and quaint and looked like it had fallen out of the pages of history. Angie eyed it dubiously. “Please tell me this has running water."

  Alastair grinned but didn't respond. Angie frowned. Growing up in Indiana, her grandparents had owned a rustic lake cottage on Crooked Lake and she had lots of not so fond memories of hauling water into the house to heat on the stove for washing dishes. But even that memory wasn't as bad as the ones where she had to plod sleepily out to the outhouse in the early morning hours and use the facilities with her nose hidden in her shirt sleeve to filter the stench.

 

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