Christmas at Timberwoods - Fern Michaels [56]
“Make it easy on yourself, kid, and don’t give me any trouble.”
Angela muttered a curse as her arm was wrenched behind her. “Let me go. I didn’t do anything.”
“That’s what they all say. Come on now, we’re going for a ride.”
“No, I’m not,” Angela said, jerking free of the young officer. They always traveled in twos, she remembered. But where was his partner? Probably waiting outside to nab her when she went through the door. Or maybe not. This one looked a little edgy.
Onlookers stopped and stared then went about their business. No one wanted to interfere with the law.
Angela crouched lower, the cop circling her, his arms outstretched. God, what did he think she was going to do to him? Angela’s own arms were outstretched to ward him off should he make a sudden lunge for her. She backed up slowly and felt the door give. An unseen somebody, big and soft, was in back of her. Angela straightened up and was off and running before the young cop could move around the plump, matronly woman. Slipping and sliding over the winter-slick parking area, Angela raced. She couldn’t possibly make it to her car and hope to get away. She would have to make it on foot across the open fields where they were planning the annex to the mall. It was her best bet—her only bet at the moment. The cop wasn’t likely to chase her through an unmowed field and muddy up his uniform.
Her long, coltish legs pumped furiously as she made her way up the slight incline and leaped over the guardrail. Open ground. She risked a quick look over her shoulder. He was right behind her. Her feet sunk down into the crunchy grass with its coating of ice. Mud oozed into her shoes as she ran, her breath coming in quick, hard gasps. What the hell were they doing chasing her, anyway? There must be some real criminals out there somewhere that they needed to go and catch.
She hadn’t bothered anyone, so why was he after her? If only Charlie was here, he would make the cop leave her alone.
She kept running. What was he going to think when he got home to see no dinner and no Angela? Well, she couldn’t worry about that now.
She didn’t see the hole and went facedown into the crusty mud. She was up and running again straightaway, but she’d lost valuable time and momentum. The damn cop was gaining on her. She slipped again on the icy ground and went down. This time the cop tackled her and they rolled around on the ground, Angela intent only on freeing herself, the cop intent on making her his prisoner.
He jerked both her arms backward and handcuffed her. “I wouldn’t have done this back at the mall, but you forced me into it.” It sounded almost like an apology.
“Screw you,” she spat.
The cop ignored her. He heard worse a million times a day. “Look, all we want to do is talk to you. Take it easy. I’m not arresting you.” Again, the tone was defensive.
“Yeah? You handcuffed me for no reason! I want a lawyer, and you can tell your story to a judge.”
“For the last time, I’m not arresting you. Someone wants to talk to you and I’m taking you to him. Now get moving, or do I have to carry you?”
“Do you know who I am?” she demanded.
He ignored her and kept her moving.
“I’m Murray Steinhart’s daughter,” she shouted. “Steinhart, you jerk! As in the Steinhart who owns half this town—”
“I know who you are, and you don’t scare me. So shut up and keep moving.”
“The least you could do is tell me who it is who wants to talk to me.” Angela was shivering uncontrollably now, wet mud and ice particles clinging to every inch of her clothing.
“You’ll know soon enough.”
“Then I’m not going anywhere and you can’t make me.” Angela dug her heels into the slushy ground and braced herself. He was bigger and stronger, but she wasn’t going without a fight.
The young cop squared off, sensing her intention to dig in and fight him. “Listen, I don’t like this any better than you do. We both know you’re gonna come