Charity's Angel Read Online Free PDF Page B

where she'd last seen Gabriel London, and her fear took on a new edge. If he moved to help her, it could set off a shoot-out that would leave all of them dead.
    "Billy!" Sal's sharp voice stopped the blow. "Leave her alone."
    "But she ruined everything," Billy whined. His hand dropped but he didn't release his hold on her arm.
    "Hitting her isn't going to change anything. Come here. The cops are going to be calling any minute. We've got to figure out what to do next."
    Billy released her arm reluctantly, a quick slashing look telling her that he wasn't going to forget just who had set off the alarm.
    Charity had to lock her knees to keep from sinking to the floor. Her pulse was pounding in her ears, throbbing in rhythm with the pain in her bruised face. She could taste the salt tang of blood from her split lip. She didn't need anyone to tell her that she'd just come close to death.
    Seeing their captors huddled together working out a strategy, she dared a quick glance to the side. Gabe's eyes were on her puffy cheek, and she could sense his frustration. She wanted to give him a smile, reassure him that she was all right. But her face was too stiff to allow such a movement.
    The shrill ring of the phone was startling in the tense quiet. Everyone's eyes locked on the instrument, which sat on one of the cases. Sally must have made a call and left it out, Charity thought absently. Normally the phone was out of sight. It rang again, a sharp demand for attention.
    "You figure that's the cops?" Joe asked.
    Sal nodded. "Bound to be. They'll want to know what we want."
    "You think if we ask 'em to go away, they'll do it?" Billy giggled like a nervous schoolboy. Sal ignored him. The phone rang a third time.
    "Answer the phone. You." He gestured to Charity.
    "What do you want me to tell them?" she asked over the fourth ring.
    "Just answer the damn phone," Joe snarled. It was obvious that the tension was getting to him.
    "I'll tell you what to say once you've got them on the line," Sal told her.
    Charity nodded and walked stiffly to the phone. Apparently she was about to get a crash course in hostage mediation.
    ❧
    Gabe leaned his shoulder against the case. Sweat trickled down his spine, though the room was not overly warm. His left thigh was starting to cramp, he'd been so still so long, and he shifted position, moving gingerly, aware that a sound could cost him his life. He rubbed at the tight muscle until it relaxed.
    How long had it been? A glance at his watch confirmed that it was only five minutes later than the last time he'd looked. Not quite an hour since this situation had begun. It felt like days.
    The negotiations weren't going well. In fact they were hardly going at all. He didn't have to be outside with them to know that the police were as frustrated as he was. Sal's first demand for a helicopter had been nixed when the negotiator pointed out that there was no place to land it. When he'd asked for a van, the negotiator had demanded the release of a hostage. Gabe guessed that Sal might have gone for it, but Billy and Joe adamantly opposed letting even one of the hostages go.
    The last call had ended in a stalemate almost twenty minutes ago. Charity had been doing all the talking, relaying the police demands to the three would-be thieves. Gabe's admiration for her had climbed steadily as the minutes ticked by. The pressure was incredible, but her voice remained level, without a hint of the fear she must be feeling.
    From where he sat, the only hostage he could see was the wounded man, who hadn't regained consciousness. His chest continued to rise and fall, his breathing reasonably steady. The others he could only hear. There was an elderly couple. The wife had asked if she could open her purse to get her husband's nitroglycerin tablets. He guessed the other couple was younger, though all he could hear was an occasional low murmur of reassurance from one to the other.
    That left only the other clerk, the one who'd been so