Headed for Trouble - By Suzanne Brockmann Page 0,120

talk privately. Not that she’d necessarily be able to share anything she learned with Martell, considering client-attorney privileges. Still, she might find out exactly what was going on. As in, who was this Conrad that Dunn had asked about, back in the interview room. She didn’t believe his mutual acquaintance explanation for one hot second.

“Feel free to follow,” Dunn told Martell. “After Pheebs and I talk we’ll stop and all have lunch.”

And that was when Phoebe should have realized that something was up. For him to have gone from a cold No deal, back in the prison, to a friendly Feel free to follow, we’ll all have lunch, was completely ridiculous.

But the reasonableness and ease with which Dunn spoke those words fooled her, and she turned and opened the driver’s-side door of her new car.

Phoebe’s shiny new car—a gift to herself for nailing the job at the law firm—had a keyless entry that she adored. She no longer had to dig to find her car keys at the bottom of her bag, she just had to touch the handle, and her car door would unlock. Likewise, she just had to toss her bag onto the passenger seat, and the car would sense the presence of the nearby key, and start with a touch of a button.

It was fabulous.

After she unlocked her car, she climbed in behind the wheel. The door hung open as she focused on balancing her bag on the armrest between the two front seats and clearing the wrappings from a quickly grabbed breakfast off the passenger seat, to make room for her newest client.

And this meant that she was completely surprised by what Dunn did next. He moved inside of the open car door, and she sensed more than saw his sweatshirt and plastic sack of God-knows-what whizzing past her head as he threw it into the back, as almost simultaneously he put his left hand beneath her thigh, and his right hand between her lower back and the seat.

“Hey!” Phoebe heard herself say as he seemingly effortlessly lifted her up and tossed her over the armrest. She landed butt-first in the passenger seat, her feet tangling with the steering wheel only briefly, because he was there to help her get them free.

Her surprise was echoed by Martell, who shouted, “Dunn! Stop! What the hell!” from the parking lot.

But Ian Dunn was already behind the wheel, door closed and locked, car started and in motion.

“I’ll drive, okay?” he said in that very same reasonable, friendly voice, as he peeled away from Martell, a spray of dust and gravel making the other man turn away to protect his eyes.

“No, it is not okay!” Phoebe watched out of the back window as Martell sprinted for his own car, no doubt to give chase.

“Better fasten your seat belt,” Dunn told her calmly as he gunned it out of the lot and onto the equally ill-repaired road.

“This is exceedingly not okay,” Phoebe said as she belted herself in, reaching to pull her bag up from the floor, where it had fallen when she’d been jettisoned from the driver’s seat. “In fact, this fits the definition of felony kidnapping!”

“Not if you tell me it’s okay if I drive,” Dunn pointed out, glancing at her as he adjusted the seat, pushing it all the way back, as far as it could go. Even then his legs were clearly too long, and he shifted to get as comfortable as he could.

“I am not going to tell you it’s okay if you drive,” she sputtered, even as she reached one hand into her bag, feeling for … “It’s my car, and I was driving, and you physically accosted me, which makes it—”

“Kidnapping,” he finished for her. “I get it. So have me arrested and send me back to prison. Oh, wait. That’s exactly what you don’t want to do.”

“Stop this car,” she said, aiming her handgun at him, right through the leather of her bag. “Right now, Mr. Dunn, or I will shoot.”

She had to admit that it must’ve looked ridiculous, like she was only pretending she had a weapon and was in fact doing nothing more than pointing her finger at him. But she knew that getting the Glock out of the bag would mean temporarily not aiming it at him—during which time he could easily take it from her. Even while driving. He was, after all, a former Navy SEAL.

Dunn looked from her face to the bag and back into her eyes before