Free Bayou Judgment by Robin Caroll Page A

reason with him to call the police himself? She studied his expression, his eyes. Strike out option three—he wouldn’t turn himself into the police. The tired muscles in her legs told her trying to outrun him wasn’t really a choice, either. That left option one—give him the money and hope he left.
    â€œI don’t have it here.” His eyes turned dark, dangerous, deadly. “But I can write you a check.”
    â€œAnd you’ll call the police as soon as I leave and have them pick me up at the bank.”
    She prayed someone on the other end of her phone had already made the call. “That’s a chance you’ll have to take.” Lord, I need a little divine intervention. “Take it or leave it. It’s the best I can offer.”

    Spencer’s heartbeat kicked into overdrive. From the minute an operator had patched the call through to his cell phone, he’d listened to Felicia try to talk down Kipp Landry. He’d called the sheriff, then jumped in his truck. A sheen of sweat coated his palms, and tightening his grip on the steering wheel didn’t help matters. Why was traffic so congested today, of all days?
    â€œLet go of me.” Felicia’s voice sounded strong, but her words sent icy chills down Spencer’s spine. Eight minutes had passed since he’d called the police, but he still didn’t hear any sirens or see any cruisers racing down the road.
    â€œAre you going to give me the money or not?”
    Spencer held his breath as he waited for Felicia’s answer. What was happening? Did Kipp have her in a choke hold? Lord, please let her be okay.
    â€œFine. Let me get my checkbook.”
    Spencer let out a pent-up breath. He had to get there fast. What if he failed her, too? Guilt and fear had him pressing the accelerator harder.
    Two more turns and he’d be at her apartment.
    â€œWhere’s your checkbook?” Kipp’s voice gained a raw edge.
    â€œIn my purse. On the table there.” Was that a crack in her voice?
    Father, please watch over Felicia. Give her strength and wisdom.
    â€œYou stay there, I’ll get your purse.”
    If the car in front of him would just move. Yes! The sedan veered left, and Spencer punched the gas. Might be a good idea for a cop to clock him speeding—nothing like arriving with the cavalry, even if it’d land him in murky water.
    â€œYes, that’s it.” Felicia still sounded strong, but what did Spencer expect? She’d been through so much in the past year, being the victim of extortion would be a walk in the park for her. She’d hold her own with Kipp Landry.
    One more turn, not even a block away. Hold on, Felicia, I’m coming. He shoved away the thought of why he was so afraid, not wanting to analyze his emotions right now. No time. A siren whirred, and his heartbeat raced.
    â€œJust make the check out to cash.” Kipp’s voice held an impatient edge. They could probably hear the sirens, too.
    â€œThe bank will question that on such a large amount.”
    Why did she have to be so logical? Couldn’t she just write the check and get him out the door?
    â€œMake it out to me, then. Hurry.”
    A trash truck blocked the way. Spencer slammed on his brakes and slapped the side of his fist against the steering wheel. The siren screamed louder, drawing closer.
    â€œHere you go.”
    Spencer pressed on the horn. His thumb caught on the wire of his headset, snatching the earbud into his lap. He fumbled to replace it.
    The truck moved. Spencer wove around.
    Silence filled his ear. He grabbed the cell phone and glanced at the LCD screen—the call hadn’t been disconnected. Yanking out the earpiece, he held the phone tightly against his ear as he whipped onto the complex’s street and skidded to a stop in the parking lot beside the sheriff’s car.
    Scrambling out of the truck, he rounded the building, groping as he slipped the open phone