Mason: The Sinner Saints #4 Read Online Free PDF Page A

associated with many people. No spouse. No kids. That didn’t leave a lot of other choices.
    Just her parents.
    Mason knew that Sara had fought against his help before, but this changed everything. Two people’s lives were in danger—three, if he counted Sara’s. The choice was no longer hers to make.
    Mason took a step forward and placed his hand on her shoulder. Sara twisted her head around and pierced him with a glare.
    “Him?” she said, her voice shaking even harder. “He’s no one. Just a pain in the ass. I can shake him.”
    In any other situation, Mason would have chuckled at her description of him—and she was talking about him, there was no doubt of that—but her words only made his blood run colder. If someone was asking questions it meant they had eyes close by.
    Eyes, and God only knew what else.
    “Give me the phone, Sara,” he demanded.
    She gave a terse shake of her head before turning back around and scurrying down the street. She only made it a few steps before Mason caught up with her.
    This time he didn’t ask for permission. He simply darted his hand over her shoulder and snatched the phone. She spun around, her expression frantic. In an instant, she turned wild on him, flailing and clawing at his chest and arms. Not that it did her much good. She was slight enough that Mason only needed to use a single arm to keep her at bay as he lifted the phone to his ear.
    “Sara is right. There’s no need to harm Mr. and Mrs. Baumgartner,” he said, using a controlled tone that he’d practiced in the field dozens of times. “I’m sure that we can come to an arrangement.”
    A long pause stretched on the other end, but at least there wasn’t dead silence. Mason could still make out the faint rise and fall of breath, the subtle sound of shuffling steps. He may have caught the kidnapper off guard, but he hadn’t rattled him. He was still there, listening.
    “Who is this?” The man’s voice was calm and measured, but also biting. He wasn’t asking a question. He was issuing a demand. And, by the sound of it, he wasn’t used to having his orders refused.
    So, he was dealing with a man that valued power and control. That was good to know. Useful.
    Mason didn’t mind bowing his head for a negotiation, but he wasn’t about to fall to his knees.
    “I’m an associate of Sara’s,” he said.
    “An associate ,” the voice said. “I believe that she described you as a pain in the ass.”
    “And I am,” Mason said smoothly. “But a necessary one if you don’t want to lose the Evening Star.”
    On the other end, the man sucked in a long breath. Another pause that gave Mason even more insight into the person he was dealing with. He had to be greedy to send Sara after the necklace in the first place, but it was pure pride that was pushing him now. Something told Mason he wasn’t the kind of person who could live with coming in second.
    “And how do I know that you weren’t the one who stole the necklace in the first place?” the voice asked.
    “You don’t,” Mason answered honestly. “You’re just going to have to take my word for it. Just like I’m going to have to take your word that you didn’t double-cross Sara as a convenient excuse to rid yourself of your hostages.”
    “Are you asking for proof of life?”
    “You’re welcome to think of it as providing Miss Baumgartner with continued motivation to recover the diamonds if it makes you feel better.”
    “Fair enough.”
    Mason focused intently as a series of background sounds made their way through the phone—a long series of hard, staccato steps on concrete, sixteen to be exact, the metallic groan of turning gears, and the low creak of sliding shafts. Wherever the Baumgartners were being held, it was heavily fortified.
    A moment later a whoosh of air swept past the other phone’s receiver, as though it were being tossed across a room.
    “Say hello,” the voice said in the distance.
    “Sara?” A woman’s breathy voice