Page 7 of A Colby Christmas Rescue

“Off and on since I hit sixty-five. The cost of living in LA is difficult on a fixed income.”

“I’m sure.” LA living wasn’t easy on a great income. “So, you’re a lifer?”

“Born and raised,” he said with a glance over his shoulder.

She chuckled. “I’m surprised you’re not an actor or a former one.” He actually looked like the type.

“Who says I’m not.” He glanced at her this time. “Never judge a book by its cover, little girl.”

How ironic. She’d just been thinking the same thing.

“We have a newcomer to the party.”

The warning echoed in her earpiece. Time to wrap up the chitchat.

Jamie reached to her left hip pocket as if she were reaching for her cell and slipped out the lightweight handcuffs. She’d slapped the first cuff on Santa’s wrist before he realized what she was doing. Simultaneously, she tugged him toward the No Parking sign and snapped the other cuff to the metal post.

Then she whirled and confronted beggar guy who had stopped to stare in shock at what she’d done.

Didn’t see that one coming, did you?

There were a few pedestrians on the street. No one wanted to whip out a gun. Well, at least not Jamie. She hoped to do this the old-fashioned way by kicking beggar guy’s butt. And then he reached into his jacket and came out with a weapon.

Damn it.

She kicked the beggar’s gun out of his hand before he had it fully leveled on her. Santa was shouting and attempting to tug himself free.Good luck with that.

“The newcomer is coming at you,” she heard from her earpiece.

“Great,” she muttered as beggar guy dove at her. She rolled him into a hold with one arm locked around his throat and her legs locked around his, prying them apart to prevent him from gaining purchase on the ground. Good thing her tight jeans were made of spandex. When he continued to resist, she pounded his head into the concrete a couple of times, and he relaxed.

Newcomer was suddenly on top of her then.

This one was dressed like Batman and wasn’t going down quite so easily.

He flipped Jamie onto her back and had both hands around her throat. She clawed at his face. Before she could get in a good dig, his head suddenly jerked to the right and then his body flew off her.

“I thought you might need a hand.” A long-fingered hand reached out to her.

She looked from the hand she recognized to the guy in the Wolverine costume.

Poe.

“Really? Wolverine?” Jamie took his hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet. “I had this, you know.”

“I’m sure you did,” Poe agreed, “but Santa was causing a scene and we don’t need that.”

The old guy was shouting at the top of his lungs and people were stopping to stare and point. Cell phones were coming out.

Time to go.

“Where’s the car?” she asked as she freed Santa.

“Half a block up on the right.”

“Let’s go, Santa.” She secured the newly freed cuff to her wrist. She wasn’t letting this guy out of her sight and certainly not out of her reach.

By the time she ushered him forward that half a block or so, Poe had hopped behind the wheel. Jamie opened the rear passenger door and she and Santa climbed into the back seat.

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