Read Online Give Him the Slip by Geralyn Dawson - Free Book Online
Authors: Geralyn Dawson
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clapped a hand to her chest. "Trouble? Me? Do ya
think?"
When he lowered his brow and scowled at her, Maddie sneered right
back. "Welcome to this week, Agent Callahan. Yes, I know I'm in trouble.
You see, in addition to having millions of dollars worth of a controlled
substance in my vehicle and killers on my tail, I have another little
worry."
His scowl morphed into a grimace. "Don't tell me you're
pregnant. The hooker tried that one when I wouldn't cave."
"I'm not pregnant, G-man." She lifted up the left side
of her T-shirt and tugged down the waistband of the gym shorts she wore,
revealing a small, artistic tattoo on her hip. "I'm on parole."
CHAPTER 5
"That's a prison tat!" Luke's appalled gaze zeroed in on
the figure on her hip. He recognized the style. The artist. "That's Wanda
Jarrell's work."
It was a stylized version of a Texas Department of Corrections
number about as big as his thumb in colors of green, blue, and red.
"I thought you might recognize it. I understand Wanda's work
is very well known among law enforcement officials as well as inmates."
Luke managed little more than a nod. Wanda Jarrell had made a name
for herself with her creative designs utilizing a person's Texas Department of
Corrections number.
"I firmly believe that had Wanda's family circumstances been
different, her work would be hanging in museums rather than on convicts' biceps
and butts," Maddie added.
"Why...?"
She sighed and let loose her T-shirt. Luke knew a small sense of
loss as the sexy little scroll was covered. "I did it on a dare," she
replied. "That and to serve as a permanent reminder of my stupidity. Plus,
I truly like her artistry."
He shook his head. He'd not been asking why the tattoo, but rather
why the DOC prison number. "Who the hell are you, woman?"
"It's complicated. I—"
His lawman's senses on high alert, Luke reached beside the bed for
his gun. He didn't know who sent her, or why she was there, but he wasn't
taking chances with this sort of thing.
"Who sent you?"
"Oh, for crying out loud."
"Who sent you, Maddie? Goddammit, I can't believe I almost
let a piece of ass—"
"Hold it right there," she snapped, dismissing the weapon
in his hand, folding her arms, and lifting her chin. "No need to be
snotty."
He mouthed the word "snotty," then grimaced and shoved
his fingers through his hair. "Start talking."
"Would you put the gun away? I swear. You wave that thing
around as if it were a second penis."
Luke narrowed his eyes and glared at her, then lowered the gun. He
did not, however, return it to his nightstand.
Maddie nodded, then asked, "What do you want to know?"
"Oh, I have quite a list. Who you are, why you're here, why you
have one of Wanda Jarrell's prison tattoos on your ass, to name a few."
Maddie wrinkled her nose. "It's on my hip, and as a point of
fact, it's not a prison tattoo. I've never been to prison."
"I recognize—"
"I was in state jail. There's a difference. It might not be
significant to you, but it is to me. I really am Maddie Kincaid. I really do
own a senior care business in Brazos Bend, and your father really is one of my
clients. Everything I told you is the truth."
"You're telling me Branch Callahan hired a convict to wash
his socks?" Luke asked in a scathing, disbelieving tone.
She lifted her chin. "He likes my pesto."
"I just bet he does."
He could tell by the look in her eyes that Maddie wanted to tell
him where he could stuff his suspicions, but she must have decided that doing
so wasn't in her best interests.
She visibly tamped down her pique. "I write letters for him.
His penmanship is no longer legible, so every day, I go to Callahan House and
he dictates three letters to me. You're right that your father didn't know
about my record when he hired me. Before yesterday when I explained my troubles
to Branch, the only person in Brazos Bend who knew about my past was Kathy
Hudson."
"The lady who owns the Dairy Princess?"
Maddie nodded.
He recalled the woman,
think?"
When he lowered his brow and scowled at her, Maddie sneered right
back. "Welcome to this week, Agent Callahan. Yes, I know I'm in trouble.
You see, in addition to having millions of dollars worth of a controlled
substance in my vehicle and killers on my tail, I have another little
worry."
His scowl morphed into a grimace. "Don't tell me you're
pregnant. The hooker tried that one when I wouldn't cave."
"I'm not pregnant, G-man." She lifted up the left side
of her T-shirt and tugged down the waistband of the gym shorts she wore,
revealing a small, artistic tattoo on her hip. "I'm on parole."
CHAPTER 5
"That's a prison tat!" Luke's appalled gaze zeroed in on
the figure on her hip. He recognized the style. The artist. "That's Wanda
Jarrell's work."
It was a stylized version of a Texas Department of Corrections
number about as big as his thumb in colors of green, blue, and red.
"I thought you might recognize it. I understand Wanda's work
is very well known among law enforcement officials as well as inmates."
Luke managed little more than a nod. Wanda Jarrell had made a name
for herself with her creative designs utilizing a person's Texas Department of
Corrections number.
"I firmly believe that had Wanda's family circumstances been
different, her work would be hanging in museums rather than on convicts' biceps
and butts," Maddie added.
"Why...?"
She sighed and let loose her T-shirt. Luke knew a small sense of
loss as the sexy little scroll was covered. "I did it on a dare," she
replied. "That and to serve as a permanent reminder of my stupidity. Plus,
I truly like her artistry."
He shook his head. He'd not been asking why the tattoo, but rather
why the DOC prison number. "Who the hell are you, woman?"
"It's complicated. I—"
His lawman's senses on high alert, Luke reached beside the bed for
his gun. He didn't know who sent her, or why she was there, but he wasn't
taking chances with this sort of thing.
"Who sent you?"
"Oh, for crying out loud."
"Who sent you, Maddie? Goddammit, I can't believe I almost
let a piece of ass—"
"Hold it right there," she snapped, dismissing the weapon
in his hand, folding her arms, and lifting her chin. "No need to be
snotty."
He mouthed the word "snotty," then grimaced and shoved
his fingers through his hair. "Start talking."
"Would you put the gun away? I swear. You wave that thing
around as if it were a second penis."
Luke narrowed his eyes and glared at her, then lowered the gun. He
did not, however, return it to his nightstand.
Maddie nodded, then asked, "What do you want to know?"
"Oh, I have quite a list. Who you are, why you're here, why you
have one of Wanda Jarrell's prison tattoos on your ass, to name a few."
Maddie wrinkled her nose. "It's on my hip, and as a point of
fact, it's not a prison tattoo. I've never been to prison."
"I recognize—"
"I was in state jail. There's a difference. It might not be
significant to you, but it is to me. I really am Maddie Kincaid. I really do
own a senior care business in Brazos Bend, and your father really is one of my
clients. Everything I told you is the truth."
"You're telling me Branch Callahan hired a convict to wash
his socks?" Luke asked in a scathing, disbelieving tone.
She lifted her chin. "He likes my pesto."
"I just bet he does."
He could tell by the look in her eyes that Maddie wanted to tell
him where he could stuff his suspicions, but she must have decided that doing
so wasn't in her best interests.
She visibly tamped down her pique. "I write letters for him.
His penmanship is no longer legible, so every day, I go to Callahan House and
he dictates three letters to me. You're right that your father didn't know
about my record when he hired me. Before yesterday when I explained my troubles
to Branch, the only person in Brazos Bend who knew about my past was Kathy
Hudson."
"The lady who owns the Dairy Princess?"
Maddie nodded.
He recalled the woman,
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