Sexy Ms. Takes

“Hey!”

“Where’d you come from?” he asked.

“I was here,” she said, sitting up again, “when you hijacked the cab.”

“Great. Jesus. Just great.”

“I’m not thrilled about this, either. Let me out.”

He said nothing, just stepped on the gas, narrowly missing another car.

She clutched the seat. “Detective! Let me out.”

“Can’t.”

“What? You have to. You can’t take an innocent person on a car chase.” Besides scaring the crap out of her, she was pretty sure this was illegal. She stared at the back of his dark head, wondering if she should try to knock him out, although that might get them both killed. “Did you hear me?”

“If I stop, I lose ‘im.”

They drove way too close to a black SUV and she squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for impact. Seconds later, she opened her eyes. “Can’t you radio for help?”

“Yeah.” He snorted. “I will. I just can’t lose him. Hold on.” He took a sharp left, cutting off two other cars, and throwing her against the door.

She groaned at the force of the door handle jabbing into her side. That was going to be a nice bruise.

“The scumbag is going to jail if it’s the last thing I ever do,” he muttered. But at least he flipped open his phone.

“I don’t need it to be the last thing I ever do. Pull over.”

The detective didn’t seem to hear her. “He’s right over there. In the old Caddy. Bastard isn’t even stopping at the lights.”

“Detective Greco, I’m going to have you arrested if you don’t let me go.” She looked in her tote, but of course, her cell wasn’t there. “Now.”

“Look, ma’am, I’m sorry. I’ll let you out. I just need to—”

“The only thing you need to do is stop this car.” This was the most important audition of her life. It could change everything. She’d worked very, very hard for this chance, and she wasn’t going to let anyone blow it. Not to mention get her killed. She lifted a shaky hand and shoved the hair away from her face. “I mean it.”

He cursed again.

“Yeah, that’s going to help.”

A MINUTE LATER, John pulled the car to the curb, trying not to go ballistic as he grimly watched Sal get away. The prick had been right there, and if he hadn’t slashed his tires.

His passenger hadn’t even opened her door. He looked at his phone, but calling in was useless. Sal would be long gone by the time another unit could be dispatched. He turned to his unwilling passenger only to find her bent over the backseat. Great. Now he’d have to pay to get the cab cleaned. He didn’t hear anything, though. “Ma’am?”

“What?” she asked, surly as hell.

“I’ve pulled over.”

“Your reckless driving tossed my bag all over the floor. You’ll sit there and wait while I get it picked up.”

He turned back to the wheel. Anger flared again as he realized he’d have to come up with a way to explain all this to the captain. As a rule, they frowned on cops commandeering a working hack to go in pursuit. Especially one with a passenger on board.

“Dammit, I can’t find my cell phone. Look under your seat.”

She didn’t sound like a native, but her attitude was pure New York. “Yes, ma’am.”

He bent, awkwardly, and fished around for the cell, knowing he wouldn’t find the damn thing. Not the way this day was going. “Nothing.”

“My whole life is on that cell. It has to be here.”

“What’s the number?”

She was silent for a moment. Then she gave it to him, her voice slightly mollified. Maybe even impressed enough not to report him.

He dialed and a tune rang out. Jesus, the opening notes from A Chorus Line. Shaking his head, he turned to give her a hand. That’s when he saw the gun. Sticking in through the window. Pointed at her.

John dropped his cell and went for his weapon.

“Uh-uh, Johnny. I don’t want to hurt the pretty lady, but if I have to, I will.”

John stared at the beefy man, slowly showing him his hands. Clearly he knew who John was, but John didn’t recognize the guy. He wasn’t from the neighborhood, even though he had a trace of an Italian accent. Was this even about Sal? Or another case John had been working on?

“You wanna go down with Sal?” he asked the man, who smiled calmly as if he knew John was fishing.

“Pass me your gun. Nice and easy.”

Shit. John picked up from where he’d left it on the seat and slowly handed it over his shoulder.

“Excuse me. Sir?”

His passenger’s voice was remarkably steady, given the circumstances. John finally got a good look at her. She was pretty, all right. A damn knockout. Long, silky, brown hair. Red lips, pale skin. But her eyes, they were light blue, aquamarine. Doe eyes with dark lashes.

She turned to the guy with the gun. “I don’t know this man,” she said. “I’m just trying to get to Eighth Avenue, so if you don’t mind, I’ll just slip right away and leave you two to work this out.”

“Sorry, doll. I can’t let you do that.”

The woman faced John again. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Let the lady go. Whatever this is about, she has nothing to do with it.”

“No can do, Johnny.” He opened the back door and stuffed himself into the rear seat, forcing the woman to slide over. She reached for the door handle, but the guy’s thick hand stopped her. “Unless Johnny here does something stupid, you’ll be fine. So sit back, relax, and before you know it, you’ll be where you need to go.”

“I’m already late for an audition. This is a callback for me. I’m so close. I know the director wants me and I’ll be the lead ingenue. Please, try to understand my position.”

The big man sighed, and Johnny could swear he smelled garlic. “You seem like a nice lady, but I don’t got a choice here. Shut up and you’ll be all right.” Keeping his gun pointed straight at his target, he said, “Drive.”

“Where?”