Jo Leigh - Relentless

“Always.” She left the bathroom, new ID and money safely tucked in her tote. She smiled at Gino as she walked into the cold November air.

Vince Yarrow was leaning on her car.

HE WISHED SHE WASN’T wearing the big coat. He wanted to see her in motion. She was a striking woman, and it wouldn’t have bothered him at all to have met her under different circumstances.

He’d heard from Jeff about thirty minutes ago. The surveillance team was in place, although the Captain had only okayed six people. Eight would have been better. The first team would already be at the motel. He wasn’t sure where Kate was going after this, but, wherever it was, he wouldn’t be far behind.

“Did you get the job?” he asked pleasantly.

“Please get away from my car. I have appointments.”

He pushed off the Toyota and smiled brightly, just to piss her off. “Great. Where are we going next?”

She looked daggers at him as she went around the front of the car.

“There’s a simple way to get me to go.”

Nothing. Not a look, not a glance.

“Maybe during the next interview, I’ll come in. Who knows, they might want a character reference.”

That got her. She spun on him, eyes narrow, lips tight. “I’m not one of the bad guys,” she said. “I didn’t hurt anyone. I didn’t see anything. You’re trying to get blood from stone.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but a flash out of the corner of his eye made him turn. Behind a large trash bin was a familiar face. The bruise was new and rather spectacular.

“Wow,” Vince said. “That looks like it’s gotta hurt.”

The reporter approached them, his camera in one hand, a small recorder in the other. “So this is your material witness?”

Vince blocked him with his body before he could reach Kate. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I figured Emerson would like to know what you’re up to.”

“Emerson told me to relax. Get laid. I’m just following his advice.”

“Bullshit, Yarrow. I know who she is.”

“You don’t know—” Vince stopped at the sound of the engine, and turned just in time to see Kate take off like a bat out of hell. Damn it.

“Oh, I like her,” Baker said. “Feisty.”

“Shut up, you asshole.”

“See you in the funny papers.” The reporter walked away, whistling, just to be a jerk.

Vince jogged to his car, cursing the reporter and cursing Kate. He had no idea where she’d gone, but he had to find her. If the gangbangers saw her picture in the paper, they’d make sure she’d never testify.

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