Read Online Deadly Intent by Christiane Heggan - Free Book Online Page A

to—“
    “Because you know damn well you have no choice in the matter.” His eyes had hardened, and all cheerfulness, phony as it had been, was gone from his voice. “I’m holding the trump card here, Abbie. So either you come through with the money, or I call the Palo Alto P.D. and tell them your mother is a cold-blooded killer.”
    Go ahead, Abbie, call his bluff. Who are the police going to believe? Two con men or a respectable, law-abiding citizen ?
    For a moment, she felt as though she could do it. If she stayed strong and showed him she wasn’t intimidated, he would back off. But although the words were just on the tip of her tongue, she remained silent. She and Ian just stood there, measuring each other, waiting to see who blinked first.
    “Tell you what.” Ian reached inside his shirt pocket and took out a cell phone. “Since you still have doubts, I’ll put you in contact with Earl. He’ll convince you.”
    She started to protest but he was already dialing. As he waited, he winked at her, looking supremely confident. “Anna,” he said when the call was answered, “this is Ian McGregor. Please have Earl call the phone number I’m going to give you as soon as possible, and tell him to ask for Abbie DiAngelo. You have pen and paper?”
    He waited another few seconds before giving the restaurant number, which he seemed to have memorized. “Can you get word out to him today? It’s urgent.” He smiled. “Super. Thanks, Anna.”
    He flipped the phone shut and tucked it back in his pocket. “That was Earl’s wife. She said that unless he has already used his three allowed phone calls for the week, you should hear from him sometime today.”
    “How will I know the call is coming from the prison?”
    “He has to call collect. The operator will tell you the call is from Stateville.”
    He had covered all his bases, anticipated all her questions. Was that part of a well-engineered bluff? Or was he telling the truth?
    He placed a scrap of paper on her desk. ‘ ‘I wrote down my cell-phone number for you. Call me after you hear from him.”
    “I’m not at your beck and call, Ian. I have a business to run.”
    Before he could answer, there was a knock at the door. Without waiting for an answer, Brady stuck his head through the opening. One look at them and he seemed instantly aware of the tension in the room. “Abbie, we have a crisis in the kitchen. Can you come right away?”
    There had never been a crisis he couldn’t handle and she doubted there was one now. But she was grateful for the interruption. “I’ll be right there.”
    She looked at Ian, who gave a slight bow. “I’ll go.” Then, leaning toward her so his mouth almost touched her ear, he whispered, “But I’ll be back.”
    As he walked by Brady, who was holding the door open for him, he added, “I’d lose the attitude if I were you, kid. Nobody likes a wise guy.”
    “You should know,” Brady fired back.
    He and Abbie followed Ian into the empty dining room and watched him make his way around the tables. Once he was gone, Abbie turned to the young sous-chef. “Tell me there is no crisis, because I don’t think I could handle anything more serious than burned toast right now.”
    He shook his head. “I used that as an excuse to see if you were all right.”
    “How did you know I needed rescuing?”
    “I’ve seen his kind before.” He glanced at her. “How’d you end up with a character like that for a step-brother?”
    Brady deserved to know as much as she could afford to tell him. “After my biological dad died, my mother remarried a man by the name of Patrick McGregor, a widower with two children. Two years later, Patrick died and my mother and I moved to Kansas to live with my grandmother who was ill. Ian and his sister stayed in California with their aunt. I haven’t seen either one of them in twenty-eight years.”
    “What does Ian want?” She started toward the kitchen. “A loan.” “I hope you told him