For the Love of Pete Read Online Free PDF

“I’ll call you a cab as soon as I get off the phone.”
    Zoey pasted on a big fake smile. “That’s okay; I can hang out with you.”
    She realized her mistake almost immediately.
    His bitter-chocolate eyes narrowed suspiciously at her, and suddenly he looked like an Italian Clint Eastwood. “You can’t stick with me. I’m following a kidnapper. This whole thing could get violent.”
    “Maybe I don’t want to just be dumped in this part of town,” Zoey shot back. “It’ll be dark soon, and—”
    “Okay, okay, I’ll wait with you for the taxi.”
    Panic was tightening her chest now. She couldn’t let him ditch her. “That’s not—”
    “Or I’ll drive you home myself. Just—” He cut himself off as two Chicago PD cars screeched into the gas station, one on either side of the Beemer.
    Zoey blinked. “Wow, that was fast.”
    She watched as all four front doors on the police cars flew open, the nearest one narrowly missing banging against her door.
    “Hey.”
    But something was wrong. Instead of getting out, the police officers were crouching behind the car doors, and it looked like they had their guns drawn, as if they were really nervous, or as if—
    “Out of the car!” one guy boomed.
    “Well, shit,” Lips said softly. “This day just gets better and better.”
    He raised his hands.
    And the cops opened fire.
    “Get down!” Dante pushed her head into her lap and jammed the Beemer into reverse. He backed swiftly out from between the cop cars, the Beemer’s engine whining. He stomped on the brake, whipping the Beemer’s front end around, and then accelerated out of the BP gas station.
    It took a full second for Zoey to realize that the loud bangs coming from behind them meant that the Chicago PD were still shooting at the car. “Shit! What was that? Why are they shooting at us? I thought you were the good guy!”
    Beside her, Dante’s hands had tightened into white-knuckled vices around the steering wheel. His face was hard and angry, and she was really, really glad that his expression wasn’t aimed at her.
    “I
am
the good guy,” he said quietly. “And I don’t know why they were shouting at us, but you can be damned sure I’m going to find out.”

Chapter Five
    Thursday, 5:23 p.m.
    W hy
was
the Chicago PD shooting at him? That was the question that pounded through Dante’s mind as he sent the BMW careening through traffic. It sure as hell wasn’t standard operating procedure to shoot a man trying to surrender.
    Unless, of course, they hadn’t wanted him alive.
    Sirens were wailing somewhere, but he couldn’t see the pursuing cops. Not yet, anyway. Ahead, a cement mixer suddenly loomed, moving so slowly it was nearly at a stand-still. Dante jerked the wheel of the BMW to the right, sliding between the huge truck and a parked blue Mini with barely a hair’s breadth to spare on either side. Behind him, tires squealed ominously. He made a left, cruising across two lanes of traffic, and sped down the street. A service alley was on the right, and he stomped the brake, slowing fractionally to make the turn.
    The alley had been plowed only half-heartedly. Brown snow was frozen into ruts, the black asphalt beneath broken into chunks. The BMW rattled through the narrow space, barely missing a battered green metal Dumpster. The blackened backs of buildings rose high on either side, blocking the last light of the day.
    Out of the corner of his eye, Dante saw Zoey clutch the passenger door. “You all right?”
    “Yeah.” She glanced at him, the whites of her eyes flashing in the car’s dim interior. “Yeah. Was that some kind of mistake? Did they get mixed up about the car the kidnapper was driving, or—?”
    “I don’t think it was a mistake.” Articulating the thought made him swallow with dread.
    They were coming up on the end of the alley. It spilled out on another small business street. Dante nosed the BMW forward, looking in both directions before cruising sedately into