Read To Trust a Stranger for Free Online Page B

beneath the crotch-high hem of the pink satin shorts she wore. Glancing down at them-he couldn't help himself-he found himself wondering if her skin tasted as much like honey as it looked. Annoyed at the direction his thoughts were taking, he shifted his gaze back out to the street where it belonged and picked up his phone. “License-plate number?” he asked crisply, confining his gaze to her face now as he punched in some numbers. She told him, and he nodded.
    “Yeah?” The grumpy-sounding voice on the other end of the phone belonged to Mother Jones. Mother was the go-to man for all the local car thieves; as a gung-ho rookie police officer Mac had arrested him twice in his first two months on the job, been first infuriated and then chagrined to discover that Mother was back on the streets within twenty-four hours each time, and then got clued in to the program before any real harm was done to Mother's operation or his own career. Fortunately, Mother was not one to bear grudges, and what with one thing and another, they'd ended up developing a mutual respect that had turned into almost a friendship over the years. If anybody could get information on a just-pinched Jaguar in south Charleston, Mother was the man.
    “What you interested in it for?” Mother asked cautiously, when Mac gave him the particulars. At times like this, Mother tended to remember that Mac had once been on the other side. “Lady who owns it is a friend of mine. Her husband's gonna go ape-shit when he finds out she let it get stolen, and she's sitting here beside me right now crying her eyes out, afraid she's gonna get beat up when she goes home.” Julie Carlson stiffened and looked at him indignantly. Mac shook his head at her, warning her to silence.
    “ Shee -it.” Mother tut-tutted under his breath, and Mac knew he had punched the right buttons. Mother was a devoted family man with six daughters. “ Ain't no call for that kind of shit, you know? Man who'd rough up his woman, he ought to have his ass kicked.”
    “Yeah,” Mac said, agreeing. “Can you help us out here?” There was a pause. “If I can, you know it gonna cost you.”
    “No problem.” He figured Julie Carlson was good for it. Hell, Sid was rich enough. A grunt. “I'll make some calls, see what I can do. I'll let you know.
    What's the number?” Mac gave him his cell-phone number, disconnected, and glanced at his frowning passenger. “It's going to cost you to get your car back. Probably about a couple of thousand. If it can be done.”
    “I heard.” She sounded disgusted. “I can't believe I have to pay to get my own car back.”
    “You don't want to, I'll call Mother back and tell him to forget it.”
    “No.” There was a sudden note of panic in her voice, and her hands tightened on her phone. “No, I want it.” Mac's lips compressed. She was definitely afraid of Sid. Under the circumstances, feeling sorry for her was a mistake, but feel sorry for her he did.
    “Mother's going to want the money on delivery. If we're lucky, and he can find your car.”
    She looked worried. “I can write him a check. That is, if he brings back my purse, too. It was in the car.”
    A check. Mac sighed. “Darlin', he's going to want cash.” Now she was looking really worried.
    “I only have about fifty dollars in my purse. I can go to an ATM machine when I get it back, but I think the limit for withdrawals is two hundred dollars.” Mac thought of the cash advance Elizabeth Edwards had given him only hours earlier. It was stashed in the safe at his house, ready to be deposited in the bank bright and early in the morning. He pictured Hinkle's reaction if he knew what Mac was about to do, made up his mind, and mentally flipped Hinkle the bird. “I got it covered. As long as you're good for it. You are good for it, right?” Sid's wife was definitely not a credit risk, and obviously she had an urgent reason to keep Sid from finding out what she had been up to tonight. The satin