Pockets of Darkness Read Online Free PDF

dropped it in the bag.
    “Wallet,” the tall thief said. “And that earring, too.”
    Otter wore a one and a half-carat diamond stud in his right ear; he grudgingly took it out and passed it over.
    Bridget hadn’t surrendered anything yet. “Leave the boy alone.” She looked around the gray-garbed thief and got the attention of the leader. “The boy’s just visiting. Understand?” She carefully removed her watch, a stainless steel Cartier Pasha she’d paid three thousand for but was worth double that. “The boy is just—”
    The lead thief brought the gun up and around and aimed it at Bridget’s face. “Shut up, you damn Mick. And where’s the safe? A woman like you … a place like this … there’s a safe. We want the good stuff.”
    Otter said glumly: “If only we’d gone out for pizza—”
    The tall one in front of the boy cuffed him. “Close your mouth.”
    “Ow!” Otter hollered. “That hurt you son of—” Another cuff, this one harder.
    “I said close it!”
    The other thieves turned to look at the boy, and Bridget took advantage of the distraction. She brought her leg up in a roundhouse kick that caught the gray-garbed man in the hip. He was solidly built and Bridget only managed to unbalance him, but it was enough. While the man tried to recover, Bridget followed through with a lightning-fast uppercut that connected and sent a busted front tooth flying.
    The man grabbed his jaw and doubled over, moaning.
    “Marsh! You all right?” This came from the leader. “Marsh? Marsh!”
    Marsh wasn’t all right. Bridget struck him again with the heel of her hand and stunned him. One more blow and he crumpled in a heap.
    “That’s it! You move again and I will shoot. Ain’t nobody gonna hear a gun go off, all their windows closed this winter.” Once more the gun was pointed squarely at Bridget.
    “All right.” Bridget held still, hands to her sides. “All right. Easy. Just don’t hurt the boy, hear me?”
    “Tell me where the safe is,” he retorted. “Tell me now!”
    Bridget indicated an oil landscape hanging above a mahogany server. “It’s behind that.”
    “I don’t think so,” the leader said. “Rob, no more nice and friendly. Grab the boy—”
    “No! I said leave the boy alone. Please. The safe is in my office,” Bridget said. “The safe with the ‘good stuff’ you’re looking for.”
    “And where would that be? Your office?” This came from the tall man still menacing Otter. He had worked the boy around to the other side of the room, a good dozen feet away from Bridget. “Where is this office?”
    “Upstairs and—”
    “Don’t tell them, Mom!” Otter moved. He barreled into the tall thief, sending him into the dining table and bending him backward over it.
    “That’s it!” the leader shouted. “You’re both dead. You’re both—”
    Bridget crouched and sprang at the leader, fists forward and catching him in the stomach. The air “whooshed” out as he fell back with considerable force, upsetting a low table that was against the wall. The silver tea service on it went dancing across the hardwood floor and sugar cubes spun in all directions.
    Another punch from Bridget and the gun flew out of the thief’s hand and landed in a corner. A quick kick followed, and the man fell on his knees hard. Bridget swung again, but the thief dropped and rolled, then jumped to his feet. He whirled when Bridget came at him once more, bringing up his heel to deliver a solid blow.
    It was Bridget’s turn to fall back.
    “Nobody had to get hurt,” the leader hissed. “Not you, not the boy. Now you’re—”
    Bridget rushed at him, shoulder forward and driving into the thief’s chest. Behind them, she heard Otter kicking the tall one.
    “You’re the ones in danger,” Bridget said. She flailed to the right, fingers closing on the back of a chair. She brought it around and struck the thief with it.
    “You think?” the leader retorted. He was panting, and he wiped at