Killian (Hope City #8) - Kris Michaels Page 0,48

stop without…”

“Killing her?”

He shuddered in revulsion. “Please, there has to be another way.”

“It is too late for your negotiation tactics. Don’t forget, you are the reason her efforts have been identified. We have invested millions in this venture. A curious reporter will not be the reason we fail.”

“What if she’s told the police what she knows? Her father?”

“We have made sure that the transactions are cloaked in respectability. The plan has already been set in motion. It is only a matter of time. People in high positions are getting nervous.”

“I can’t let you do this.”

“You don’t have a choice unless you want to join her.”

He let out a shaking breath. “No, I do not want to join her.”

“Then do what you’re told.” The line disconnected and he dropped the hand his phone was in. A tear pushed over his lower lid and trickled down his cheek. God, he needed help. But who? Where could he turn?

“Commissioner King.” Bekki’s father answered his phone again as Killian grimaced and slowly lowered himself into one of her mother’s kitchen chairs.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?” Bekki sat down beside him at her childhood kitchen table.

“I’m fine. I’m just going to be sore for a while.” He gave her a wan smile and stretched his leg out before exhaling heavily.

“I’ll get you some pain relievers to have with your coffee.” Hannah rushed to the kitchen cupboard that held most of her over-the-counter meds and fished out the familiar white and red bottle.

“Here you go, dear. I’ll have that coffee in just a minute.” Hannah placed the bottle in front of Killian. Bekki reached forward and opened it, handing him two.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Killian acknowledged her mother even though she was sure he felt like death warmed over.

“It’s Hannah, not ma’am. Do you want cream or sugar?” Hannah asked, her back still turned to the table as she messed with the coffee tray.

“Sugar, no cream,” Bekki answered for him. Killian listed to the side and moved his leg a bit, sighing in relief when he found a position that didn’t hurt. She looked up and blinked. Her mother was staring at them with a gobsmacked expression plastered on her face.

“What?”

“Ah, nothing, dear.” Hannah smiled and turned back to the coffee. Her father was still talking on the phone, or rather listening and asking a few questions.

“What?” She asked again.

Killian reached over and put his hand over hers. “I’m sure she is curious how you know what I like in my coffee.”

“Oh.” She blinked at his hand, then up to her father and over to her mother. “We’re dating. Why wouldn’t I know that?”

Killian cleared his throat. “You wanted to keep that to ourselves for a while.”

Oh. Right. A little thing like almost being kidnapped and her boyfriend being shot at and hit by a car by a maniac in a back alley seemed to make that trivial concern moot. Bekki shook her head and muttered, “Whatever,” under her breath. She didn’t have the time or the mental capacity to deal with dancing around the fact that she’d found someone she enjoyed being with. Instead, she turned her attention to her father, who’d just disconnected his call. “Dad, we need to figure out our next step.”

Her father crossed his arms and frowned. “We are not going to do anything. This attempted kidnapping is a police matter. Period. The man who you met tonight is dangerous.”

“How do you know that? I mean, besides the fact that he had a gun.” She glanced at Killian, who was taking a cup of coffee from her mom. Her mother handed her a cup, too, fixed just the way she liked it. The warmth against the palms of her hands reminded her how cold she’d become immediately after the events in the alleyway.

“They pulled the video from the Tipsy Tavern’s surveillance cameras. We haven’t ID’d the man yet, but the car was stolen about a month ago and the tags were traced to a person who is in San Diego for business. Evidently, they were taken from a vehicle that was parked out at the airport in long-term parking. Patrols found the car abandoned about three miles from the Tavern. Forensics is still looking, but it appears to have been wiped clean, with the exception of your prints where you grabbed the door and pushed back against the window. Tell me what you’re working on.”

Bekki laid her story out piece by piece and Killian interjected when