Page 47 of Gentle Persuasion

“What’s the big deal?” Holliday grunted.

“That woman at the mall…?”

Holliday nodded.

“She belongs to me.”

“Shit!” The word was short and succinct. It said everything necessary to the situation. Thomas Holliday closed his eyes and cursed again. “Just my luck.”

“Your luck consists of the fact that I’m an honorable man,” Cole muttered. His breath fanned Holliday’s cheeks.

Holliday looked up and saw his mortality flash before his eyes. It was a new thought, and one he didn’t like to contemplate. He shrugged and breathed a quick sigh of relief as the officer turned him loose and helped him back to his chair.

“It’s no big deal to me if I go up. It only means a place to sleep and three squares. Anyway, winter’s coming.”

Rick nodded and tried not to show that he’d almost lost faith in Cole’s ability to maintain his presence of mind. If it had been his wife, he didn’t know if he would have been that controlled.

“So, there’s something you wanted to tell us?” Rick’s smile was soft, but his eyes were not. He shared his partner’s opinions of street scum.

Thomas Holliday shrugged. “Why the hell not? The judge might give me—”

“Don’t count on it,” Cole said.

Holliday started to talk.

It had been a long, but satisfying day. Cole turned into the driveway, killed the engine, and just for a moment, folded his arms across the steering wheel and rested his forehead against them. Peace enveloped him. He was home, and inside, a woman was waiting who made his world stay in orbit.

A car pulled into the driveway and parked alongside him. He looked up and smiled. His dad was getting his own world back in order. Golf clubs were riding shotgun beside Morgan Brownfield.

“Here, let me get those,” Cole said as he shouldered the strap on the golf bag and accompanied his father into the house.

“What a day!” Morgan grinned. “I finally beat Henry Thomas. The old geezer won’t admit it, but I beat him fair and square. He thinks I added my score wrong, but he wouldn’t check it for himself.” Morgan fairly chortled. “He didn’t want it to be true, that’s why!”

“Looks like we both had a good day,” Cole said. “They arrested the man who attacked Debbie at the mall.”

“Great!” Morgan cried. “This calls for a celebration. Debbie will be—”

Suddenly they looked at each other. Awareness spread. It was too quiet. Since the day she’d arrived, they’d never walked into the house without being met and greeted.

“Maybe she’s asleep,” Cole muttered, dropped the golf clubs, and sprinted for her bedroom.

Something told him she wouldn’t be there. But he had to check. Her bed was empty. So was the pit in his stomach.

“She’s not here,” Cole said as he hurried back into the living room.

“Maybe Buddy knows where she is,” Morgan offered.

“Bu-u-uddy!”

The echoing screech of his name sent Buddy running out of his room in panic. “What’s on fire?” He could envision his precious computers going up in smoke.

“Where Debbie?” Cole asked.

The anxiety in his brother’s voice told him this was no time to blank out. He vaguely remembered her telling him something… “Uh…um…I think…”

“Robert Allen, I haven’t busted your lip since I was six and you were five, but so help me—”

“She went shopping.” The reminder of pain was an incentive he could not ignore. “Now I remember. She asked me if I wanted anything from the mall. I told her—”

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