Christmas Getaway by Tina Leonard and Marion Lennox Anne Stuart Page B

did you find me?”
    â€œWe have excellent resources, Dr. Pollard. Now why don’t you tell me where he is?”
    She blinked. “Where who is?”
    â€œThere’s blood in the snow under the car,” Morrissey called out. “I knew I’d winged him.”
    â€œWhat are you…?” Her words trailed off as she stared into the barrel of a gun. This was the second time in twenty-four hours that a stranger had pulled a gun on her, and she didn’t like it any more this time than she had outside of Farnham’s.
    â€œLet’s not dick around, Dr. Pollard. Just tell me where he is and you can go back to your fiancé and never think about it again.” O’Bannion’s voice was smooth, deadly. And she didn’t believe him for one minute. “You don’t need to worry—he’s not going to hurt you again. We know Fitzpatrick carjacked you at the department store and forced you to help him at gunpoint. We’re here to protect you.”
    Yeah, right. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    He hit her, slamming his hand against the side of her face, and he grabbed her arm in an iron grip before she could fall. “This isn’t a game, Dr. Pollard. Where is he?”
    â€œHer tracks lead to that cabin, Connor,” Morrissey said. “Just one set of tracks. He must still be there.”
    â€œHe’s gone,” she said rapidly, trying to ignore the throbbing on the side of her face. “I got away from him last night, but I was too freaked to drive home, and I…”
    â€œDon’t lie to me, bitch,” O’Bannion snarled. “We’ll just go see.” He started dragging her across the parking lot, ignoring her struggles.
    â€œHe’ll have a gun,” the other man warned.
    â€œThat’s why she’s going to be our shield,” O’Bannion said grimly, pushing her in front of him, twisting her arm behind her back to keep her under control. “Come along, Dr. Pollard. You don’t want to be interfering with a policeman in pursuit of a suspect, now do you?”
    There were a hundred things she could say, but only one came out. “Get out of there, Fitz!” she screamed, a moment before O’Bannion’s meaty hand slammed down over her mouth.
    She bit him, and he cursed, jerking her arm up harder. A little bit more and he’d break it, which would be the least of her worries because he was already going to have to kill her. He hauled her up the steps, his partner close behind them. “I’ve got your hostage, Fitz!” he called out. “Now I can put a bullet in her brain or you can get your ass out here.”
    No answer. O’Bannion kicked the door open, keeping her as a shield, but the room was empty. “Check the bathroom, Tommy,” he ordered.
    â€œHe’s gone, Connor,” Tommy announced a moment later. “He went out the window. I can see tracks leading toward the street….”
    â€œWhat are you waiting for? Go after him!”
    â€œWhat about her?” He jerked his head in Ellie’s direction.
    O’Bannion released his agonizing grip, and she tore herself away, trying to rub the circulation back into her shoulder. “I think poor Dr. Pollard was in the wrong place at the wrong time. She was taken hostage by a fugitive and murdered by him before the police closed in.”
    â€œSounds good,” Morrissey said. “You want me to cap her?”
    â€œCuff her for now, while we find the son of a bitch. We can use his gun just to make things neat and tidy. Put her in the back of the police car. She can’t get into trouble there.” Heleaned down, breathing on her, nasty, coffee-drenched fumes. “And if you make any trouble, we’ll just shoot you now and have things a little less tidy. You got that?”
    â€œYes,” she said, glaring at him. He got away. For some reason that mattered, even