Free KIDNAPPED, A Romantic Suspense Novel by Suzanne Ferrell Page B

the car to the road entrance, turned the wheel sharply and backed into traffic. Ignoring the screeching tires and blaring horns of the other motorists around them, she slammed the car into first, and sped down the road.
    “They killed him!” she yelled at Jake as she headed back to her house.
    “Damn it, don’t you think I know that?”
    “They were police. You said you were police.” She glanced at him, then turned onto the freeway. She let her foot lay heavily on the gas, maneuvering past cars and trucks. “Why would they kill him?”
    “I don’t know. And I don’t know who, so don’t ask me that, either.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Slow down, Samantha. We don’t want to draw the highway patrol’s attention.”
    “What are we going to do?” She eased off the gas, panting from the fear and Adrenaline combination.
    “Well, going to your house or your brother’s is out of the question now.”
     
    Sami glanced at him. “Why?”
    “Because I am sure they have your license plate number now, or at least enough to identify you.” He leaned against the car door, giving her a worried look. “Like it or not, you’re going to be named as my accomplice.”
     
     

CHAPTER FIVE
     
    “Your men missed, Petrov.” The man’s voice sounded abrupt and clipped even for him.
    “We could not help that your FBI captain gave us away. But he will no longer be around to get in our way, no?”
    “Don’t sound so pleased with yourself, Petrov. Thanks to your little gun battle we now have a dead agent on our hands. I don’t know how I can keep a lid on the investigation into a the killing of a federal agent.”
    A harsh laugh sounded on the line’s other end. “Ah, but you will block any investigations, my friend. Convince them that Carlisle shot the other agent. You have as much to lose as I do if that little brat tells what he knows.”
    The hairs on the back of the man’s neck slowly stood at attention. The Russian’s threat hit close to home. He had quite a bit to lose should his involvement become known.
    The day he’d joined forces with Petrov, his brother, and their band of exiled Russian thugs, he’d known the risks were high. He glanced at the Rolex on his arm, a symbol of the wealth he’d amassed over and above his trust fund. Until this fiasco with the kid and Carlisle, the benefits had far outweighed the risks.
    Petrov might have the meanness of his Mongol ancestors, but he’d never underestimated the giant Russian’s intelligence or ruthlessness.  Only a fool would turn his back on the Kosak.
    The image of a tightrope walker carrying a very wobbly pole flashed through his mind. If he didn’t watch his step, a very large pigeon named Petrov Kreshnin would perch on that wire and knock him off balance, or Jake Carlisle and his little Russian witness would cut the wire right out from under him.
    His mind added up all the possibilities as quick as an accountant’s fingers on the keys of an adding machine. Perhaps he could use this fiasco to his benefit.
    “I think it’s time the Feds searched for our Mr. Carlisle and your ward, Nicholai, don’t you, Petrov?”
    “You expect the FBI to just hand them over to you, my friend?”
    The hesitancy on the mafia leader’s end of the conversation pleased the man. He picked up a pen, rolling it between his fingers. “You might be right, Petrov. It’s time to let the feds do our hunting for us.”
    * * *
    Jake watched the dawning of her situation settle on Samantha’s shoulders. She slumped further into the leather seat, her fingers gripping the steering wheel so tight her knuckles blanched white.
    Damn, he’d done nothing but turn her world upside down. Now he’d managed to put her life in danger, too. Somehow he needed to protect all of them and he didn’t have a frickin clue who was pulling the local police division’s strings. With Bridges dead, he didn’t have a snowball’s chance of finding out either.
    He stared out the passenger