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her through the space between the seats. “You won’t be going to Mexico.”
    That blunt declaration caused another surge of gorge in her throat.
    He cut the engine, switched off the headlights, and got out. The dome light came on when he opened the driver’s door. Jordie blinked against the sudden glare that shone directly down on her.
    He opened the back door and ducked his head inside. Again she felt the bite of his razor-sharp eyes. The overhead light cast harsh shadows on his face, emphasizing prominent cheekbones and unsmiling lips.
    Without saying anything, he closed his fingers around her left ankle. At his touch, she yanked her knees up, freeing her feet from his grasp, and then tried to drive them into his face. He jerked his head back just in time. Her heel barely clipped his chin.
    She tried again. He stayed just out of reach. On her third attempt, his hand shot out, grabbed her ankle, and roughly pulled her feet against his chest, where he kept them in place with one hand while, with the other, he picked one of her sandals from off the floorboard and worked her foot into it. He secured the tiny buckle with the same detachment with which he’d fired a pistol into the back of his cohort’s head.
    “You’re going to kill me, aren’t you?”
    That cold gaze lifted to meet hers. “Not inside the car.”
    When both her sandals were on, he backed out of the door and shut it. He went around to the other side and opened the door behind her head. Reaching in, he cupped her underarms and hauled her out.
    As soon as he set her on her feet, he turned her to face him. “Don’t try any more dumb stunts like trying to kick me.”
    “Go to hell.”
    As though she hadn’t spoken, he said, “I’m curious. If you had gotten that door open with your toes, what were you going to do? Try to worm your way through it without me noticing? Was that your plan?”
    She didn’t honor him with a reply, only glared up at him.
    “And say you had cleared the door, what then, Jordie?”
    Her knees nearly buckled when he spoke her name.
    Of course, if he had taken her purse when he kidnapped her, he would have read her name on her driver’s license and credit card. Right?
    Wrong. Because both bore her full legal name, not the familiar nickname Jordie.
    He knew her.
    Most despairing, however, was that it came as no real surprise that he’d called her by name. When she saw the grim pair striding toward her on the parking lot, she’d realized instantly what their purpose was and who had sent them.
    The only thing she didn’t know was Why now?
    “You didn’t think it through too well,” he said, continuing on that thread. “We were going over seventy miles an hour. If you’d opened that door, it would have sounded like a wind tunnel.
    “And say you had managed to wiggle out, you’d have landed on the pavement like those bugs on the windshield.” He gestured toward it. “ Splat ! I’d have had to stop and scrape you up, which would have been time-consuming and messy as hell.”
    “Why bother to stop and scrape me up?”
    He replied without a blink. “Because in order to collect my money I have to produce your body.”

Chapter 5
    z
    W ell, she’d asked, hadn’t she?
    And he’d told her, answering the question without hesitation or inflection, without even a taunting lilt. More frightening than a voice scratchy with menace was one entirely devoid of emotion. It was characteristic of the cold-blooded way he’d shot the other man.
    She swallowed with difficulty. “Who was he? The man you killed.”
    “Mickey Bolden. Killer for hire.”
    “He was hired to kill me?”
    He just looked at her.
    “Now you’ll do it alone.”
    His expression didn’t change.
    “Who hired you?”
    As expected, he didn’t answer. Not that he needed to.
    She said, “I suppose I should be flattered that I merited two hit men. Did you and Mr. Bolden often work in tandem?”
    “First time.”
    She looked at him with surprise.
    He gave a