The Evasion Read Online Free PDF Page A

anything to take these final seconds from him.
    Slowly, she eased forward, rested her head against his heaving chest. Hell of a way to join the Mile High Club. Helluva way.
    After a minute, he brought his hand up, set it on her head and rubbed. “Amazing. Total bucket-lister.”
    Jo shifted off him, dragged her hand across his still heaving chest. “Now, Mr. August, we have work to do.”

 
    Chapter Three
     
    Gabe parked the rental car on the street across from the sheriff’s office in Leeville, South Carolina. Stuck in the grass of the house next door was a red and white re-election sign. Sheriff Connelly, the sign said, the man for us. It didn’t take a creative genius to come up with that campaign slogan. Gabe slid out of the car, enjoying the blue sky and fifty-nine degree temperature that welcomed him. Winter in South Carolina.
    The sheriff’s office was actually a converted church, one of those old brick deals complete with scrollwork over the red double doors at the entrance. Maybe they had a confessional inside. Talk about multitasking. Bad guys could step into the box and make things right with God and the law all in one stop.
    Wait until I tell Tom. “Un-frigging-believable.”
    The passenger door slammed and, unable to resist his habit from home, he hit the lock button.
    “Listen, city boy,” Jo said walking around the car, “we’re in someone else’s town. They do things differently here. You’ll need to dial it down.”
    He met her at the rear bumper and assumed the I-am-Officer-Townsend stance of squared shoulders and folded arms. “What does that mean?”
    She circled her open hand in front of his chest. “All of this. It works at home, but we need to play nice with these people. They probably don’t like Yankees. You’re definitely a Yankee. A big one. You need to get smaller.”
    Smaller . That made him laugh. A good, deep rumbling one that made Jo smile. “Should I go in on my knees?”
    She grinned up at him, waggled her eyebrows. “No. But maybe later.”
    Damn, he loved this woman. “Oh, honey.”
    She threw her hand up. “Zip it. I know I started it, but sometimes you don’t have to take the bait.”
    “You know better.”
    She spun to the road and took three steps, but a sound—the not-so-distant hum of an engine—made Gabe reach for her—grab the back of her blazer. She stopped, glanced over her shoulder, her eyes questioning. Gabe turned left and all at once, as if fast-forwarded, a black pick-up tore around the corner, its tires shrieking as it swerved and the driver over-corrected. Probably a teenager screwing around.
    He glanced back at Jo, in the street, transfixed by the charging truck. A horn blared and Gabe’s chest squeezed. Blood filled his head like a battering ram. “Jo! Back!”
    Get her . He gripped the back of her blazer tighter, checked the oncoming truck—ten yards—and hooked his free arm around her. Now . The explosion in his head droned on as he plowed her against the car and pinned her there.
    The truck roared by, the driver still sitting on the horn. He glanced at the rear of the truck. No plate. He ticked back a few seconds, replayed what he saw. Front plate. Had a P in it. PC something.
    Damn. For a cop, he’d just done a shit job of capturing the details.
    Jo pushed away from the car, her body pressing into him. He stared straight ahead into the square where a statue wobbled. Dizzy . He shook his head, closed his eyes, focused on controlling his breathing.
    “You okay?”
    “For God’s sake! He almost killed me. Don’t these people know how to drive?”
    “Did you see the driver?”
    “Not really. All I saw was that big grill coming at me.”
    Gabe rested his forehead against the back of Jo’s skull and let out a soft grunt. One way or another, she’d do him in. “Damn kids.”
    “Okay, sergeant. Let me up.”
    “Sorry.”
    “Don’t apologize, big boy. You just saved me from being a tattoo on the street.” She turned and faced him,