Page 17 of Buried Too Deep

“I’m sorry. I got tied up. How’s your mom?”

“In recovery,” Nala said wearily, all fury gone. “Wayne is in the waiting room, along with Molly from Burke’s office. Jerry’s on his way from Tuscaloosa, so all of us kids will be here for her. Tandy made me and LouLou leave to get some food, so we’re in the hospital cafeteria.”

“Stay there until I get there. I’ll explain everything.”

The other side of the line went still. Very still.

“Cora?” Tandy said tightly. “What is going on?”

“Look, I’m standing here on the street. Plus, I’m hungry, too. I’ll meet you in the cafeteria. I’m fine. I promise. See you soon.”

She ended the call and turned off her ringer because Tandy would be calling back.

Of course there wasn’t a single cab in sight now that she needed one. “Uber it is,” she muttered, then looked down when a cold nose rubbed against the side of her leg.

It was a dog—a golden retriever with the sweetest face. The dog sat as pretty as you please, looking up at her hopefully. It wore a service dog vest, a collar, and a leash.

“Hello, precious,” Cora murmured, looking around for an owner. “Where’s your mommy or daddy?” She reached for the dog’s collar, taking the leash in hand. “Are you lost?”

“No,” a deep voice said in a tone that was not calm. The leash was yanked out of her hand as she looked up. A man was scowling down at her. He looked angry, his brown eyes dark and menacing. “She’s not lost.”

She took a step back from the dog, holding her cell phone tightly in one hand while she held the other out in surrender. “Sorry. I thought she needed help.”

The man’s scowl grew, and Cora took another step back, alarm skittering down her back. He was a big man. Cora was five-eleven in her heels, so this guy had to be six-three at least. Maybe six-four. And brawny. He’d be drop-dead gorgeous if he didn’t look so intimidating.

He didn’t seem to like her very much. Which was on par for the day.

The police station wasn’t far. If she had to, she could scream and run back to the lobby. They likely wouldn’t believe her again, but at least she’d be safe.

“Come with us,” the man said. “We need to talk to you.”

Cora’s heart stuttered to a stop. Oh no. No way. The service-dog vest was a ruse. Trying to get me to let my guard down. She turned, then froze when she saw the people standing just a few feet behind her. Three more big men and one small woman, none of whom looked happy to see her.

Alarm became fear. The man with the dog could be the man from this morning. They were built similarly.

He’s found me. I thought I was safe, but he’s found me.

Stupid. She was so stupid. She should have gotten in that cab with Harry. She wouldn’t be able to outrun all of them. Not now. She was exhausted and her feet ached from running in her heels that morning.

She lifted her chin and studied them. In case she had to report to the cops later.

All the men were dark-haired. The biggest one behind her was tanned and built like a tank. The shortest was at least six feet tall, but still broad-shouldered. Which was good for him, because he wore three computer bags slung over his shoulders like they weighed nothing. His silver smartphone stood out against his dark skin as he angled it toward her.

He was recording her, the sonofabitch. How dare he?

At least the fourth man seemed less angry than the others. He watched Cora like she was a puzzle to be solved.

But all four of the men seemed…grim. Determined.

And big. They could break her in two.

The woman was the outlier in the group. Only about five feet tall, she looked more like a pixie than a human killing machine.

She was probably their boss. She looked adorably cute but could likely order a murder with the snap of her little fingers.

And I read too many thrillers on my lunch breaks. Except that she wasn’t imagining this. This was real, as was her heart smashing against her rib cage.

I will not pass out. That would make their job too easy.

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