Page 4 of Inferno

He cute?Bristol’s brows rose.

Samantha chuckled.You’re looking for a new guy already?

Her sister had broken up with a chump a few weeks ago. Samantha had thought they might stay together, but Bristol didn’t tell her what the issue was. Just that it was over.

Her sister glanced at the window and watched a couple of cars pass.

The server delivered the creamers. “Anything else?”

Samantha shook her head. When the server turned, she reached across the table and waved at the edge of Bristol’s field of vison. After Bristol turned back to her, Samantha motioned at the extra creamers.

The door at the far end opened, and a man stepped in.

Bristol lifted her hands, but Samantha’s instincts woke up as soon as she spotted the guy. Her sister knocked her hand on the table, but Samantha signed,Hold on.

Samantha watched the man sweep into the room, shove past the hostess, and pull a handgun from under a trench coat.

He swung it around. “No one move!” The guy turned to point the gun at the hostess, who scrambled back, screaming. “Give me all the cash and credit cards in here! This is a robbery.”

Samantha edged to the end of the table. She slid her phone across to her sister, unlocking it with her thumb print. She mouthed,911, knowing her sister would use text to communicate with emergency dispatch.

“Sir!” She stood, holding both hands up. Needing all his attention on her. “I’m sure the server can get what you want if you give them a second.” She kept her tone light.

Beside her, she heard a guy whisper, “Let’s tackle him. We’ll take him down.”

Samantha stopped. “No oneis going to move. Everyone is going to stay right where they are.” With her sister behind her, Bristol likely only had a limited understanding of what was going on. She wouldn’t be able to read Sam’s lips on anything she said. She might be able to read this gunman’s lips, but she’d know enough to ask for police officers.

“That’s right!” The gunman waved his weapon around, not pointing it at anyone in particular. “No one moves, just give me the money or I start shooting!”

Samantha couldn’t protect everyone in the room from getting hit. Who knew where he’d be pointing that gun when he squeezed the trigger, either intentionally or accidentally. All she could do was attempt to draw his fire.

With no vest on.

She had her badge—out of sight—and her gun on her, but those would be a last resort. All she had to do was stall him long enough for backup to show and keep any of these people from getting hurt.

The gunman swung his weapon around again, leveling it on a woman between the first row of booths and the kitchen hatch. “You! Get me the money from the register!”

She flinched and dropped a tray. The sound of shattering pottery exploded like a gun going off. Samantha heard her start to cry.

“Someone betterget me my money!”

The guys in the booth by Samantha were getting antsy. She took a couple of steps toward him to cut them off, and he spotted her coming. Samantha stopped. “What’s your name?”

He stared at her.

“I’m Samantha, what’s your name?”

“Doesn’t matter. I want the money. You gonna get it for me, or am I gonna blow your head off?”

“Killing people won’t get you what you want.” She took another tiny step, all his attention focused on her. The gun pointed at her. “Tell me your name.”

“I.P. Freely.”

Samantha didn’t react. Across the room a mom and two kids were crying, huddled in the corner, and this guy was making jokes? “Maybe we could sit down, Mr. Freely. Have some breakfast and talk.”

“I want money. Don’t you know how to listen, woman?”

She didn’t want to get into whatever relationship issue put that ire in his voice. “I’m listening. That’s my job, to listen to what you want.”

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