Live Ammo. Joanna Wayne

his pistol back into its scabbard beneath the seat and locked the vehicle. He was licensed to tote, but no need to waste time explaining all that to the cops.

      He’d give a statement to the officers and then clear out so that he could take care of the business that had brought him into Dallas in the first place.

      Two more squad cars rolled up, lights flashing. Four uniformed cops hit the streets.

      “I need the owners of the cars and any eye witnesses,” one of the other officers clipped loudly. “The rest of you need to move on so emergency personnel can go to work.”

      To his surprise, Tague spotted the woman, still carrying the kid, but striding away from the cops. Impulsively, he rushed to catch up with her.

      “Where do you think you’re going?”

      “Away from the chaos so that I can take care of my son.”

      The boy’s arms were locked tight around his mother’s neck.

      “Do you think he’s injured?” Tague asked.

      “I don’t think so, but he’s frightened and all the strangers and sirens aren’t helping.”

      Maybe he’d been rash in trying to avoid getting involved. The woman still looked a bit terrified. Her eye looked none too good, either. And the lump on her head was more pronounced than before.

      “You and the boy both need to be checked out by medical personnel,” Tague said. “There’s an ambulance on the way.”

      “We don’t need an ambulance.” She started walking away again.

      Obviously she was too upset or injured to think straight. He grabbed her arm and tugged her to a stop. “You can’t leave the scene of an accident without talking to the cops.”

      “I could if you would mind your own business.”

      “You didn’t feel that way a few minutes ago when you were ordering me to give chase. The least you can do is give the police a description of the carjacker.”

      She stopped walking and shifted the kid to her other hip. “Okay, you win. I’ll talk to the cops, but I don’t expect it to change anything.”

      The lady had an attitude problem. He’d have figured she’d be eager to describe the carjacker to the cops. It made him wonder if she didn’t have other reasons for avoiding the police.

      “I think it’s time we met officially,” he said. “I’m Tague Lambert.”

      “I’m Alexis.”

      “No last name?”

      “Beranger. This is Tommy.”

      Tommy began to squirm. “Go home, Mommy.”

      “Soon, sweetie.” She lowered him to the ground, but held on tight to his hand as a cop approached them.

      “I’ll stick around until you’re done,” Tague offered, his interest and curiosity piqued.

      She shot him a back off look. “I really appreciate all you’ve done, but I’m fine on my own now. And I’m sure you have better things to do than broil under the midday sun with strangers.”

      “No. A car chase and foiling a kidnapping pretty much tops anything I had planned.”

      Besides, this might not be a movie shoot, but it had all the elements of one. And he’d always been a sucker for a mystery starring a sexy female lead.

      * * *

      “O FFICER B ILLY W HITFIELD ,” the cop said as he stepped in front of Alexis. “One of the witnesses said that your son was in the gray Honda at the time of the collision.”

      “Yes.”

      No doubt everyone in hearing distance had figured that out from the frenzied state she’d been in when she’d rushed to the car and grabbed Tommy.

      Now it was the cop who incited her panic. She had to watch every word. Tell him only what he needed to know and make sure he didn’t feel the need to go digging into her background.

      “Can I have your name?”

      “Alexis Beranger.”

      “Were you driving the car?”

      “No, I wasn’t even in the car.”

      The cop turned his attention to Tommy. “Is this the boy who was involved in the collision?”

      “Yes. This is Tommy.”

      “Lucky kid to walk away from that wreck with no serious injuries.”

      “It was a miracle,” she agreed.

      “Who was driving the car?”

      “The stoned thug who stole it.” A swell of renewed anger sharpened her tone.

      The cop’s stare intensified. “Are you telling me your car was stolen with the kid inside?”

      “Yes, from the Clancy Supermarket parking lot just blocks from here.”

      His mouth drew into two tight lines. “In that case, we’ve just gone from a major traffic accident to an attempted kidnapping. Excuse me a minute. I need to call the precinct and let them know what’s going on here.”

      Whitfield stepped away and made the call on his cell phone. Alexis took a deep breath as her insides began to roll again. The last thing she needed was yet more cops snooping into her life.

      “If you know who stole the car, you should level with the officer,” Tague said, keeping his voice low enough that she doubted Whitfield had heard it.

      “Are you suggesting I knew that punk?”

      “I’m not suggesting anything, except that Whitfield seems to be making you awful nervous.”

      “It’s not him that’s making me nervous. It’s the situation.”

      It also worried her that Tague’s reassuring manner was so disarming. It tempted her to trust him when she knew she didn’t dare.

      A hammering sensation started just below her right temple as Whitfield rejoined them.

      “I’ll take a statement from you now,” the cop said, “but a detective will be in touch with you to follow up later today.”

      “There’s not much I can tell you or a detective. I had just gotten to the supermarket and was getting out of my car when a thug walked up and demanded my keys. I struggled, but he had muscles—and a pistol.”

      “Is that how you got that black eye and the knot on the back of your head?”

      She reached back and felt the tender flesh swelling beneath her hair. No wonder she was getting such a headache. “I fell backward and into a rearview mirror when he punched me.”

      “Did you call 911?” Whitfield asked.

      “I made an attempt while we were chasing after the thief. I’d just started explaining the situation when the collision occurred. I think I just dropped the phone at that point, but I don’t actually remember. I was too panicked to think.”

      “You broke the connection. The dispatcher reported it, but we didn’t have a name or a location. We figured it was a hoax, but she was trying to get a location anyway.”

      The cop nodded toward to Tague. “Are you the boy’s father?”

      “No,” Alexis said quickly, answering for him. “There is no father, at least not one who’s in the picture. I’m divorced.” And please let the cop and the detective leave it at that.

      “We’ve just met,” Tague explained. “I happened to be at the right place at the right time.”

      “And you are?”

      “Tague Lambert.”

      “Any