Free Thrilled To Death by Jennifer Apodaca Page A

you.”
    I clenched my muscles to jump to my feet until I remembered the dogs. But even my terror of their sharp teeth and powerful jaws didn’t dim the anger in my voice. “You can’t do that! Grandpa hasn’t done anything.”
    Shane smiled, revealing small perfect teeth. I almost expected two long fangs to slide down from the eyeteeth. His smile chilled his face. “I’m a magician, Samantha. I can create enough of an illusion of his guilt to destroy his pathetic little existence.”
    Hot anger rushed my brain. Everyone who knew Grandpa respected him. And Shane was threatening to take that away from him. I fought to take in a breath and calm myself down enough to speak. “That’s not magic, that’s blackmail.”
    â€œAh, a few of those brain cells actually work behind all those fake blond streaks and that very attractive saline rack.” His gaze fell to my chest.
    Pepper spray. One day, when I got Shane away from the killer dogs, I was going to reduce him to a crying mass of mucus. But for now, I had to know what we were up against. “Grandpa isn’t going to be blackmailed.”
    â€œHush, Sam.”
    I turned in surprise. “Grandpa, don’t give into this!” But his face was set into wrinkled stone. His right hand was clenched into a fist tight enough to whiten his knuckles. I caught a glint of silver and knew the closed switchblade was tucked into that fist. He had taken severe exception to Shane’s comment about my intelligence and enhanced bustline.
    Grandpa looked back at me. “I don’t care about Shane and his threats. But I do care about the Triple M.” He turned away from me. “I’ll see what I can find out.”
    The charm and illusion of civility dropped away in layers. “You do that, old man. And bring me the name of the prick screwing with my life.”
    My chest froze. I’d seen Gabe shed his dangerous-man-under-control veneer to see tough ex-cop beneath. Gabe was dangerous and lethal, living by a code of his own, a code that had to do with his strong sense of justice. But Shane . . . the layers stripping away revealed a depth of rage that scared me to my core.
    Grandpa shifted. “I’m not doing this for you. I’m not bringing you anything.”
    Shane’s tented hands folded into two individual fists. Then slowly he turned his gaze to me. “I think you will, old man.”
    Then I got it—why Shane was so sure that Grandpa would help him. Damn it, now it made perfect sense why Grandpa had been trying to keep me out of this with Shane.
    With a single look, Shane threatened me to get Grandpa’s cooperation.
    I took a breath. We had to get out of here. Calmly, I said, “Tell us about the attack and as much as you can about the hit man.” I struggled to keep my voice low and reasonable.
    â€œVery wise, Samantha.”
    He obviously thought I was afraid of him. Okay, I was afraid of him. But I was going to get us out of here, and then I was going to figure out what to do next.
    Shane went on. “Last night I was asleep around 9:30 when I heard the scrape of the lock in the motor home door. Not the cab doors, but the one you both came in. I told both dogs to stay down and quiet. I wanted to see who it was. He was dressed in dark clothes and a black pullover cap. He had picked the lock and was armed with a gun and silencer. Seeing that, I immediately set the dogs on him.
    â€œHe sprayed Blackstone in the eyes with pepper spray and ran. Houdini got a good chunk out of his gun hand before he kicked the dog and got loose. That’s when he screamed out the line, ‘Damn magician never said anything about dogs!’, then dropped the gun and ran off. The police have the gun.”
    I listened carefully, then asked, “Why didn’t you shoot him? He dropped his gun; why didn’t you pick it up and shoot him?” I made a mental note to ask Gabe if he could