Good Deed Bad Deed, Marcia Morgan [summer beach reads TXT] 📗

a start. Her first thought was of Ben—whether he was up and had left without her. She suspected all along that he had stopped talking because arguing wouldn’t change what he intended to do, and she wasn’t to be part of it. Up in less than two seconds she went to the adjoining door and carefully opened it to peak through. Ben was gone and had probably been gone for some time. Her first thought was to retrieve the card scribbled with the address of the house he had described. Part of her wished it would be a wild goose chase, but on the other hand she hoped he was really onto something. The card was still there. She snatched it and quickly returned to her room. Ana’s next thought was of Ben’s parents. Convincing them to stay in London had been unsuccessful. Neither she nor Ben would be there waiting when they arrived, but this was no time to be concerned with propriety or manners. She was needed elsewhere, even if Ben didn’t agree.

She grabbed her large hobo bag, a sweater, tee, jeans and sneakers, placing everything on the bed. Removing her phone from the charger, she slid it into the bag, along with a visor and pair of sunglasses. After a splash of water and a quick turn with the toothbrush she was pulling on the jeans and tee. She tied the sweater around her waist, picked up the bag and headed down to the lobby. The concierge was too busy to order her a taxi so she went outside and asked the attendant for the closest taxi stand. He insisted on walking her to the corner where he flagged one down. Ana thanked him and climbed in, handing the driver the card on which the address had been written. After a quick U-turn the taxi sped away from the plaza and into the bustling morning traffic. Speakers behind the seat assaulted her with music much too bright for that particular day. She asked the driver to turn it down, and he obliged, glancing at her in the rear-view mirror.

Ana didn’t care about the unfriendly glance and just continued to imagine what she might find when they reached the address. The distance seemed to pass quickly, and her fear was growing, as was her intense longing for Ben. All she really wanted from life at that moment was to be in his arms, to be alone with him and away from all the trouble that had kept their relationship from evolving normally. Yet she wondered if without what had happened, they would ever have moved beyond that one rainy night in the pub. Danger can bring clarity, and for Ana it meant the nagging ache of need. She needed Ben and now believed she always would. Her thoughts raced, each unrelated to the next. Fear fed doubt and doubt urged regret. On that chilly morning they had been safe from the adversity that was about to overtake their lives. After all, the birds had cried out to them, their wings outspread as they rode the currents overhead. She thought that, just perhaps, their cries were a warning: that moment was all they had, or worse yet, all they would ever have.

* * *

Inside the dingy little house the tension had become volatile. Gareth came through the bedroom doorway and stopped short, not making a sound. He tried to read Lenny’s mood from the expression on his face as he listened to whoever was speaking on the other end of the phone. Gareth tried to appear disinterested and turned back to the bedroom. He stood flat against the wall and listened carefully, signaling the women to be quiet. Although Lenny kept his voice low Gareth gleaned one disturbing fact: Lenny’s boss had decided that getting rid of the women was the best choice whether or not the robbery was a success.

“Yeah, him too,” Lenny said, his voice intentionally muffled. He ended the call and placed the phone on the table.

Gareth had still managed to hear what was said. Once he heard Lenny’s conversation, he knew immediately that he was to be disposed of as well. His thoughts raced. He feared that his brother would be another victim and never know why. He would have to confront Lenny, and it would be an uneven fight. Besides having a violent nature, Lenny was stronger than Gareth, and his additional height would be no compensation for Lenny’s brawn. Yet a faceoff would be his only chance for survival.

Lenny stood by the table, his back to Gareth, who rushed through the doorway and jumped on him. Surprised by the attack, Lenny spun around, trying to disengage Gareth’s arms, tightly clasped around his neck. With the weight of Gareth’s body on his back, he spun in circles, using the momentum of Gareth’s weight to break his hold. After breaking free he remembered putting his gun on the table. Gareth had been flung to the floor but saw the gun as well. They both dove toward the table, trying to reach it first. Lenny expected the gun to be no problem once he attacked and disabled Gareth, but he briefly gained the upper hand by body slamming Lenny, knocking him off balance. He fell, hitting his head on the table and becoming disoriented. Totally unfamiliar with any kind of weapon, Gareth hesitated before picking up the gun. In the meantime Lenny staggered to his feet and lunged toward him.

They continued to struggle for the gun, ending up near the small table. Lenny tried to bang Gareth’s hand on the edge, hard enough to release his hold on the gun, but it went off and fell to the floor with enough momentum to slide into the bedroom. Valerie, handcuffed to the radiator, had been shot straight through the bedroom doorway, but neither man had noticed. Lenny seemed unconcerned with the location of the gun and lunged toward Gareth, grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him