Read Willing Hostage for Free Online

permanent damage. I do not need a doctor. But I could use some breakfast.”
    He replaced the speaker and smiled soothingly. “So could I. I was headed for the best breakfast in Walden when I met you. But first, let’s check out that culvert.” The patrol car made a U-turn.
    Leah sat inert, while he checked the culvert … and found no trace of her attacker.
    â€œLet’s get that breakfast,” he said when he returned. He drew up beside the Volks. “Can you follow me in? It isn’t far.”
    Minutes later they’d both parked in front of a clapboard building in a tiny treeless town. The patrolman reached in the window to pet the Siamese, asleep on top of her suitcase. His hand came out crossed with bloodied scatches.
    â€œHe prefers murderers,” Leah said dumbly.
    The patrolman laughed and guided her into a building pulsating with wonderful morning odors. “Order me a number one with ham and have them hold it for ten minutes. Order for yourself. I’ll be back.”
    â€œWhere are you going?”
    He wrinkled his nose and grinned. “I’m going to look up the local fuzz. Couldn’t get him on the radio.”
    Leah felt human for the first time in a week. Even law and order had a sense of humor in the West. She picked up the menu stuck between the napkin and the salt and pepper holders. The café was worn and dingy, but obviously patronized by the locals.
    Knowing her ulcer would have ordered a poached-egg-on-milk-toast, Leah ordered the number one with bacon and hot chocolate. She deserved a binge. The gregarious waitress didn’t seem to mind the hold on the patrolman’s order and brought Leah’s hot chocolate right away.
    Tempted to human kindness by the comfort of her hot drink, Leah stopped the waitress as she came by with a tray of dirty dishes. “Do you have doggy bags?”
    â€œâ€˜No. Do you have a doggy?”
    â€œThere’s a stray cat in my car and he—”
    â€œOh, poor starving thing.” She set the tray on the table.
    Leah blinked. “If you can imagine a blimp starving, you’ve a better imagination than I have.” She felt foolish to have brought up the subject.
    â€œFur,” the waitress said and sat down across from Leah.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œWell, some cats look fat because of their fur. Had a good feel on this cat? Probably all ribs under that fur. What does it like to eat?”
    â€œAnything.”
    â€œHoney, no cat eats anything, even if it’s starving. I know. I’ve got three. Hubby hates them but.…” She rose and lifted the tray. “All kinds of scraps around here.”
    â€œI don’t have much money.”
    â€œForget it. They’d be thrown out anyway. Any cat lover is a friend of mine, honey.”
    Leah finished her chocolate and pondered the cat. Having one opened strange doors.
    She remembered having an insane desire for a dog when she’d had to leave New York and return home. She’d met a dog once who would have been perfect. He was a large bony red, with a tail in constant happy motion and soft amber eyes.
    Leah read his tags, took him home, and called the owner. That was how she met big, strong Jason, who always asked after scraps for his “Mutt” when he visited a restaurant and who invariably left with a doggy bag.
    The relationship was Jason lasted about three months. Leah discovered that he wanted her on a leash as tight as Mutt’s. When it was over, Leah missed Mutt more than she did Jason.
    She’d finally begun to tremble with delayed reaction and letdown when the number one with bacon arrived. Two beautiful fried eggs, hash-brown potatoes, three strips of bacon, two pieces of buttered toast, and a huge mug of coffee. Leah hadn’t tasted a fried egg or coffee for two years. She stopped only once, to reflect on whether or not her dark attacker would have any breakfast. A body the size of his would demand a