Free Innocent Hostage by Vonnie Hughes

Ingrid thought fancifully. And how Breck Marchant would hate her to see this side of him.
Suddenly, he jerked awake and continued their conversation. “If someone should see me at the Kerrs’ place, I can use the pretext of collecting the rest of Kit’s belongings,” he said.
Ingrid nodded. “Do you need a look-out for this sortie?” she asked before she could stuff the words back in her mouth.
One side of his mouth quirked. “Sortie? You’re very military all of a sudden, Ingrid.”
“Well, what do you call it?”
“A damn stupid idea but I’m going to do it anyway.”
“Okay. Can I help with this damn-stupid-idea-but-you’re-going-to-do-it-anyway?”
He chuckled. “You are not at all like you look, Ms. Rowland. You’re an adventurer at heart.” Then he sobered. “There’s no way I can let you become involved. If I’m caught I can easily talk my way out of it, but I’d hate to have to explain what you’re doing there.”
So what did he think she looked like? She was dying to know. She cleared her throat. “Are you telling me to butt out?” Her question lacked bite. He was probably right. “Okay. But perhaps I can give you some ideas of where to look. At college Tania had lots of little heart-to-heart chats with me. On her own terms of course. I figured she was buttering me up to help her with assignments and stuff.”
Breck grinned. “No flies on you, Ms. Rowland. Did you help her out?”
“No,” Ingrid said tersely. “I don’t like being played. I have enough of that with my parents.” Then she thought of the consequences of her refusal to oblige Tania and the resultant fallout.
“You too, huh? Parents can be the very devil. That’s why I’m determined to do my best for Kit.” He stood up. “And I’d better get the boy to bed. Tell you what, I’ll ask Jace if she’ll mind Kit for an extra hour or so tomorrow, and after work I’ll call in at your place. I’d appreciate your telling me everything you know about Tania.”
“Here’s my address.” She scribbled it on one of her cards.
After casting a quick look around the parking lot, he handed her into her car as if she were made of spun glass. But as he bent down to say goodbye he staggered and had to grasp the luggage rack on the Fiesta’s roof to hold himself up.
“Go to bed,” she told him, this time without blushing furiously.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She grinned and drove away.

Chapter Eight
Nervous excitement warred with fear in Breck’s stomach as he crunched over the broken paving stones that led to Ingrid’s small apartment block. He looked at the paint peeling off her front door as he pressed the doorbell.
    She lived more frugally than he did. This wasn’t a very salubrious neighborhood; in fact, he’d call it a damned dangerous place to live. Auckland didn’t have as much crime as many large cities around the world did, but this suburb was renowned for middle-of-the-night police call-outs. He’d been here a time or three. He wondered what her parents thought about where she lived.
    “It’s unlocked. Come in!” she called.
    Unlocked? What was she thinking?
    He barged in. “Jesus, Ingrid! You shouldn’t leave your door unlocked like that.”
She shrugged. “I knew you were coming. You’re a cop. If there was any trouble, you could sort it out. Besides, everyone around here knows me. It’s safe.”
He looked at her, opened his mouth and shut it again. She had changed out of her school clothes into a tight pair of jeans that hugged every curve. Small she might be, but she had curves. Oh, boy, did she have curves.
To get his eyes off the curves he glanced around her apartment. Like his, it was furnished by A-Mart and second-hand shops. But she had plants everywhere and on one wall the setting sun caught the highlights in an old oil painting of a violent storm at sea. He stepped closer to peer at it. It looked valuable, but what would he know?
“My grandfather left that to me,” she said from behind him. “My