Lethal(55)

Switching to a more serious tone, the man on the other end said, “Is speculation correct? Do you have the woman?”

“And her kid.”

“Are they all right?”

“Yeah, they’re fine. We’ve been picnicking.” After a weighty, sustained silence, Coburn said again, “They’re fine. You want to talk to her yourself?”

Without waiting for an answer, he passed the phone to Honor. Her hands were trembling as she raised it to her ear. “Hello?”

“Mrs. Gillette?”

“Yes.”

“My name is Clint Hamilton. I want you to listen carefully. Please, for your child’s sake as well as your own, don’t underestimate the importance of what I’m about to tell you.”

“All right.”

“You, Mrs. Gillette, are in the company of a very dangerous man.”





Chapter 21





Tori had slammed her front door hard behind Doral, flipped the deadbolt, then for half an hour had railed at herself for not slapping the fire out of Doral Hawkins over his parting remark.

But even long after he’d left her house and she’d had time to calm down somewhat, his threat echoed. It had been unsettling to say the least. She wasn’t as afraid for herself, however, as she was for Honor.

Tori was self-sufficient, independent, and accustomed to taking care of herself. But she wasn’t above asking for help if she deemed it necessary. She placed a call.

“Tori, sweetheart. I was just thinking about you.”

His voice immediately soothed her raw nerves. Matching his sexy tone, she asked, “What were you thinking?”

“I was just sitting here daydreaming, wondering if you’re wearing panties.”

“Of course not. I’m my horny self. Why do you think I called you?”

That pleased him. He gurgled an ex-smoker’s chuckle. He was thirty pounds overweight and had bright capillaries on his nose from imbibing oceans of bourbon over the course of his fifty-eight years. But he could afford to drink the best.

His name was Bonnell Wallace, and he had more money than God, which he kept in the New Orleans bank that had been privately held by his family since the Spanish had governed Louisiana or since the beginning of time, whichever had come first.

His beloved wife of thirty-something years had succumbed to cancer a year ago. Fearing the same fate, Bonnell had tossed the cigarettes, cut back to five or six drinks a day, and joined Tori’s health club. Which more or less had sealed his future.

He’d become husband candidate number four, and that was fine by him because he thought the sun rose and set inside the panties she claimed not to be wearing.

“Will you do something for me, Bonnell?”

“You name it, sugar.”

“A friend of mine is in danger. The life-or-death kind.”

Instantly, he dropped his bantering tone. “Jesus.”

“I may need some money on short notice.”

“How much?”

Just like that. No questions asked. Her heart swelled with affection.

“Don’t agree so fast. I’m talking serious cash. Like a million or more.” Tori was thinking in terms of a ransom, and wondered what the going rate was for the safe return of a young widow and her daughter. “I’m good for it. But I may not be able to access my accounts in time.”

“Tell me what’s going on. How else can I help?”

“Have you heard about the woman and child who were kidnapped this morning?”

He had. Tori filled in the blanks. “I can’t even think about what she and Emily might be going through. I don’t know what to do, but I can’t just sit here and do nothing. With your help, I can at least have cash on standby if her father-in-law gets a call from their abductor. Stan’s financially stable, but he won’t have that kind of money.”

“You just let me know what you need, when you need it, and it’s yours.” He paused, then said, “I’m only a phone call away, Tori. Good Christ, you must be worried sick. Do you want me to come and stay with you?”

Because of his grown children, and because of her policy that employees of the club were not to date the clientele, they had kept their affair a secret. His willingness to drop everything, leave the bank in the middle of a workday, and rush to her aid signified more than just courtesy and concern.

In a voice choked with emotion, she said, “Have I told you what a sweetheart you are? How important you are to me?”

“You mean it?”

“I do,” she said, speaking with an unmitigated honesty that surprised her.

“Well, that’s good. Because I feel the same.”

When he’d enrolled in her health club, she’d immediately been attracted to his engaging manner. She’d overlooked his portly body and had checked out his portfolio. Realizing his worth, she had set her sights on him.

He, having spent the last five years of his marriage nursing his suffering wife, had been ripe for fun, for sex, for Tori’s raunchy teasing, flirting, and flattery. Bonnell Wallace was a feared and revered businessman, shrewd in all his dealings, but he’d been putty in Tori’s talented and well-experienced hands.

However, over time she’d formed an attachment to him that was no longer just about snagging another rich husband. Beneath the flab left by good living, she’d discovered a good heart, a good friend, a good man. She had grown genuinely fond of him, and for her, that was as close as she was ever going to get to true love.