Jacqueline Diamond - The Doctor + Four

At this hour, the place appeared deserted except for a silver sedan parked close to the community center. If Duke was nearby, perhaps he’d stashed his green van on a side street. That must be one of the precautions you took when you made your income selling drugs, as she suspected he did.

Great company Gina kept. As Sonya exited into the cool March air, she wished the girl had agreed to stay with her mother and stepfather, who disapproved of Duke.

A movement startled her. Around a corner of the community center appeared a tall man in a business suit intent on framing a detail of the picturesque building in his camera viewfinder.

He descended toward Sonya. She was about to ask if he’d seen anyone when, instead of issuing a greeting or simply minding his own business, he raised the camera and pressed the button.

It flashed. So did her temper.

She wasn’t part of the scenery, and this stranger had no right to capture an image that he could manipulate at will. Sonya had spent enough time around tech-savvy adolescents to know the angles.

“Please delete that shot,” she rapped out as he approached. “You shouldn’t have taken it without asking.”

“Sorry. Is that considered rude around here?” The man had a scar slanting across his forehead, and black eyes that seemed to absorb all the light in the vicinity. He didn’t sound apologetic, nor did he obey her request.

Sonya dropped the matter. She had a more urgent agenda. “Have you seen a pregnant girl about my height?”

He indicated the long flight. “I saw her staggering up that way with a couple of guys. That can’t be good for her, in that condition. Friend of yours?”

“Yes.” Cutting off further conversation, Sonya hurried upward. To her annoyance, the man trailed behind.

Due to the contours of the land, she couldn’t see past the top of the climb, and the rapidly fading dusk cast the area into shadow. What if the man had lied about spotting Gina? Although houses bordered the park on two sides, the sheer size of the place made it unlikely anyone would hear a scream.

Until her accident, Sonya had possessed steady nerves. Now anxiety sometimes threatened her ability to think rationally.

But she refused to yield. Clearing the top of the stairs, she glanced past a flat concrete bandstand to rows of picnic tables, where a welcome figure caught her eye. Sitting alone, Gina hugged herself inside a jacket that barely covered her swollen abdomen. Her heavily moussed shoulder-length hair stuck out in places. Evidently, she hadn’t brushed it since the last time she slept.

That resolved Sonya’s suspicions of the photographer. Even so, she disliked the way he arrived at her side and stood surveying the scene as if invited.

When Gina spotted Sonya, her face registered a mixture of guilt and defiance. A bit farther off, Duke was arguing with another man so fiercely he didn’t at first notice the new arrivals. Both men had the shaved heads, baggy pants and sleeveless undershirts of gang members.

Sonya caught the words money and need a few more days. Then both men broke off as they spotted her and the strange man, who asked in a low voice, “What’s going on here?”

“This is a private situation,” she said tightly.

“It’s a public park.” Despite his air of indifference, his body language struck her as wary. “The whole situation makes me curious.”

“Curiosity could get you killed.”

He shrugged. “That’s a risk reporters have to run.”

Newsmen didn’t usually wander around parks in search of stories. “For what paper?” she challenged.

“Out of state,” he replied calmly. “I was attending a conference in Anaheim.”

“And you made a beeline for Fullerton because it’s such a hotbed of news?” Sonya had nothing against an undercover DEA agent—that seemed the most probable explanation for his nosiness—but Gina and her baby were more important than some drug bust.

“I had an interview in the area. My flight doesn’t leave till tomorrow, so I took a self-guided tour of local landmarks.” He halted as Duke fixed them with a glare.

“Hey, Doc,” the fellow called. “You bring a narc?” He’d obviously drawn the conclusion from the man’s business suit.

“Don’t be ridiculous! I have no idea who he is.”

The rival gang member seized on his opponent’s distraction to lunge toward Duke, knife flashing. The move happened so quickly and unexpectedly that no one reacted except the would-be victim, who dodged, grabbed his opponent’s arm and wrestled him to the table.

Sonya was trying to figure out the best way to protect Gina. The reporter, if that was what he was, simply watched as if knife fights were a common occurrence.

The pair deadlocked with the knife in the opponent’s hand. “You owe me,” he panted. “I’m sick of your lies.”

“Hey, Frankie, how am I gonna pay if I’m dead?”

The men’s gazes locked. Then the assailant tore free and stepped back, knife upraised. “You’ll pay me tonight. No more crap.”

“My girlfriend’s got some cash. She’ll lend it to me, okay?” Duke waggled his fingers and eased toward Gina. “Give it to me, baby.”

Rigid with suspicion, Frankie waited for the payoff. Sonya figured the amount had to be significant. Where would Gina get that kind of money?

She’d just drawn the conclusion that this had to be a ruse, when something came out of the girl’s purse. It wasn’t a wad of cash. It was a gun.

Duke’s. He’d sunk so low as to draw Gina into his criminal actions, Sonya surmised, although that didn’t excuse the girl for her part.

Duke hadn’t quite reached his target, and the attacker seized upon the gap to leap toward Gina. Apparently, he’d rather risk getting shot than abandon his quest.

“Gina! Get out of there!” Sonya broke off as strong hands grasped her arm and pulled her toward the steps.

“You have some kind of death wish?” the stranger demanded.

“Let go! I have to help!”

“Are you nuts? Unless you’re wearing Kevlar—”

The gun roared. Sonya stumbled and might have fallen without the man’s steadying grip. Her heart thundered so hard she wasn’t certain how much of the ringing in her ears resulted from the blast and how much from panic.

Through her confusion, she realized Frankie had seized the weapon and looped an arm around Gina’s throat. Sonya could almost feel the girl’s blood pressure soaring, but she didn’t observe any sign of injury. Judging by the speed with which Duke fled down an incline to the left, he hadn’t taken a bullet, either.

Frankie forced the girl closer to the adults. Despite the patchy light, Sonya could see sweat beading her face.

The reporter raised his hands in a pacifying gesture. Sonya’s pulse was still racing and her head felt light, but for Gina’s sake, she held her ground. “Let her go. You don’t want her to lose the baby, do you?”

“Duke’s brat? Why should I care?” Frankie included them in a wave of the gun. “That creep owes me five hundred bucks. Somebody’s gotta make it good.”

Surely a nearby resident would hear the gunshot and dial 911, Sonya thought frantically. Yet the situation might turn even nastier if the police showed up.

“I have an ATM card. I’ll get your five hundred.” The photographer spoke with a raspy edge. “Take me instead of her, for God’s sake.”

Sonya’s assessment of the man ratcheted upward. Narc or not, he had guts.

Frankie’s lip curled. “Never mind the hero act. Hand over that ATM card. And your camera.” He waved the gun toward Sonya. “Your purse, too.”

Even with their money in hand, the situation would remain volatile—and the girl appeared increasingly ill. They had to get her free, but how?