Metsy Hingle - Flash Point

“I guess it’s fortunate that I showed up when I did.” Following his lead, she opened the passenger door of the car, and nearly gagged on the stench of stale whiskey and cigars as she slid inside. Still, she forced herself to pull the door closed, shutting out the noise from the street musicians and revelers who’d flocked to New Orleans’ French Quarter to celebrate Halloween.

“Fortunate is right, missy. I’m a busy man,” he said. “I’ll have you know I’ve got better things to do with my time than wait around for the likes of you.”

“Then let’s not waste any more of each other’s time, Doctor. Did you bring the document?”

“’Course I brought it. But first I want to see the money.”

She opened the black tote bag that was filled with $100,000 in cash. Opening it, she angled it so that the light from the street lamp fell on its contents. There was no mistaking the lust in the man’s bloodshot eyes. When he reached for the bag, she snapped it closed. “Not so fast, Doctor. First I want the document.”

“Sure. Sure.” He fumbled inside his coat pocket, drew out an envelope and shoved it at her. “Here.”

“You sure this is the only copy?”

“What? Yeah, it’s the only one,” he muttered, still distracted by all the cash.

She tucked the envelope inside her purse and reached for her gun. “Then I guess this is goodbye, Doctor,” she said politely as she pulled the trigger.

Also available from MIRA Books and METSY HINGLE

BEHIND THE MASK

THE WAGER

DEADLINE

www.mirabooks.co.uk

For Valerie Gray, Editor and Friend With thanks and affection for the guidance, creative vision and unending support

While I was creating this book, I spent countless hours alone with the characters of this story as I tried to bring them to life. But the finished product would not have been possible without the help of many people who assisted me both technically and emotionally. My heartfelt thanks go to the following people for their help in bringing life to Flash Point:

Dianne Moggy, editorial director of MIRA Books, for her trust and support.

Karen Solem, my agent, for her unending support and guidance, and for being my voice of reason.

The amazing MIRA staff, who continue to astound me with their support.

The MIRA art department, which is truly the best in the business.

The MIRA public relations team of Tania Charzewski, Sarah Rundle and Maureen Stead for their support.

The wonderful fans who allow me to entertain them with my books.

Diane Hingle Anding, my sister-in-law and friend, who makes me proud we are family.

Sandra Brown, my dear friend, for her friendship, love and support.

Carly Phillips, friend and fellow writer, for her friendship, support and e-mails.

Dixie Kane and Hailey North, dear friends and fellow writers, for their love and support.

A special thank-you goes to my children and family, whose love and support enable me to spin my tales of love, hope and happily-ever-after.

And, as always, to my husband, Jim, who is my love, my family and all things to me.

Dear Reader,

Thank you so much for picking up a copy of Flash Point. I’m both grateful and honored that you’ve chosen my book when there are so many wonderful books available. If this is the first time you’ve read my work I do hope it won’t be the last. For those of you who are familiar with my books, you won’t be surprised to find Flash Point is set in my hometown of New Orleans, a city and people that continue to inspire me and make me proud to call them my own. I hope you enjoy reading my latest tale of romance and suspense as much as I enjoyed writing it.

As always, one of the great joys for me as a writer is hearing from readers, and I’d love to hear from you. In fact, as a special thank-you, I’ve had a commemorative bookmark created just for Flash Point and, while supplies last, I’ll send one to each reader who writes and requests one.

Happy holidays!

Metsy Hingle

P.O. Box 3224

Covington, LA 70433

U.S.A.

www.metsyhingle.com

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

“It’s about damn time you showed up. I’ve been waiting in this alley for twenty minutes and nearly got mugged twice.”

“I was detained,” she said coolly, giving no indication of how much she detested having to deal with the sorry creature.

“Well, you’re damn lucky I waited,” he informed her, his Mississippi drawl even thicker due to the liquor. “Another two minutes and I’d have been gone.”

“Then I guess it’s fortunate that I showed up when I did.” Following his lead, she opened the passenger door of the car and nearly gagged on the stench of whiskey and stale cigars as she slid inside. Still, she forced herself to pull the car door closed, shutting out the noise from the street musicians and revelers who’d flocked to New Orleans’ French Quarter to celebrate Halloween.

“Fortunate is right, missy. I’m a busy man,” he said, puffing up his chest and straining the buttons on his dated suit coat. “I’ve got better things to do with my time than to wait around for the likes of you.”

Better things like drowning in a bottle of whiskey or slithering into the nearest casino, she thought, even more repulsed by the man now than she’d been when he’d first sought her out six months ago. “Then let’s not waste any more of each other’s time, Doctor. Did you bring the document?”

“Of course I brought it. But first I want to see the money.”

She retrieved the black tote bag that she’d filled with $100,000 in cash. Opening it, she angled it so that the light from the streetlamp fell on its contents. There was no mistaking the lust in the man’s bloodshot brown eyes as he gazed at the money. Like a drug addict about to get his next fix, she thought. But when he reached for the bag, she snapped it closed. “Not so fast, Doctor. First, I want the birth certificate.”

He fumbled inside his coat pocket, drew out an envelope and hesitated. He narrowed his beady eyes. “You know, your daddy sure loved that little girl. Used to call her his princess. I imagine he’d have paid a lot of money to find out she didn’t die in that fire after all.”

“Unfortunately for you, my father’s dead. And I can assure you I don’t place the same value on her that he did. My one concern is protecting my family’s good name. It’s the only reason I agreed to pay you for that birth certificate.”

He tapped the envelope against his palm, gave her a measuring look. “I imagine your sister would be willing to pay a great deal to learn who her daddy was. Of course, if you was to—”

“I don’t have a sister,” she snapped. Fury caused her vision to blur for a moment before she regained control of herself. More calmly she said, “And I suggest you quit trying to shake me down for more money, Doctor. Otherwise, I might reconsider whether or not I’ve made a mistake by not going to the police and telling them about your offer.”