Free Annie on the Lam: A Christmas Caper by Jennifer Archer

arm, she squeezed her eyes shut, gritted her teeth and they jumped.
    â€œ Ohmi —!”
    The fall sucked the breath from her lungs. The impact on landing slammed her teeth together. She lay on her side, dazed, with Harry’s briefcase wedged between her hip and the snow-packed ground and the cab driver on top of her.
    Wheezing from exertion, he pushed to his knees, grabbed her hand again and pulled her up. “Let’s go.”
    Annie seized the briefcase from the ground and ran. Her right shoulder and hip throbbed. She tasted blood on her lip.
    When they reached the cab, the driver unlocked the closest door on the front passenger side, ducked in and slid across to the wheel.
    Annie dove in beside him. “I don’t even know your name,” she panted.
    â€œJoe.” He shoved the key into the ignition. “Joe Brady.”
    She slammed the door and slouched down in the seat as the cab shot away from the curb on screeching tires. “I’m Anne Macy.”
    â€œAnne, huh?” He grinned. “Well, Anne, congratulations. You win the award for my most interesting ride of the day.”
    Â 
    H ARRY L ANDAU PUNCHED IN a number on his office phone and waited through the following six rings. Puffing his slim cigar, he stared out the window at his penthouse-floor view of the frosty city below. He had worked long and hard for his piece of that view. Worked and planned, wheeled and dealed, back-slapped and brown-nosed and cheated his way up, floor-by-floor to his own private perch above the Big Apple. No way would he lose it at the hands of some bitch on a do-gooder mission.
    â€œWhat took you so damn long?” he snapped when he finally got an answer.
    â€œIt’s the middle of the night. I was—”
    â€œNever mind. We’ve got problems. He let her get away with the case.”
    The man cursed. “How? She’s a woman, for pity’s sake. I don’t know many men he doesn’t outweigh by at least a hundred pounds.”
    â€œHe said she bit him and took to his back with what felt like a ball-peen hammer.”
    â€œA hammer… Sheesh .”
    â€œThen she slugged him with an angel. Twice.”
    â€œAn angel?”
    â€œSome fancy ornament thing. Gave him a freakin’ concussion.” Harry huffed a humorless laugh and muttered, “Gettin’ hit by an angel must hurt like the devil.”
    The man chuckled, but the sound was more nervous than amused. “Maybe you should’ve hired her as a bodyguard instead of a waitress.”
    Harry thought a minute, then said, “I’ll have to call Willis.”
    The man at the other end of the line sighed noisily. “Can’t you find someone else? Someone who isn’t involved? If Willis gets caught and talks, the whole line of dominoes’ll topple.”
    â€œWe need him. The bitch had help. Some guy must’ve heard the scuffle. He came in from the hallway and she took off with him in a cab. The plates match the one she left here in.” Harry recited the numbers.
    â€œYou’ll have Willis do a trace, right?”
    â€œYeah. How long will somethin’ like that take?”
    â€œNot long.”
    â€œGood. Don’t be making any trips. I’ll be in touch.”
    Harry hung up, dreading what would happen if his uncle found out about this, determined not to let that happen. He reached across his desk for Anne Macy’s billfold, then opened it. Taking another hit off his cigar, he stared at the driver’s license photo inside. Annabelle Macy, it read. Savannah, Georgia . Harry fluttered his eyelashes and in a high-pitched, mocking voice drawled, “Well, I do declare.” Then he blew a smoke ring into the dark and growled, “You’re in over your head, lady. And Harry’s gonna make sure you drown.”

CHAPTER 5
    The streets had started to ice over. Traffic moved at a slower pace. A thick mist filled the air as snowflakes swirled,