Free Escapade by Susan Kyle

ring.
    “Desert Paradise Casino,” came the reply eventually, in a soft, seductive voice.
    “Let me speak to Marc Donner,” he said shortly.
    “One moment. I’l l see if Mr. Donner is in. May I tell him who’s calling, please?”
    “Tell him it’s Brad Lawson.”
    There was a very long pause before the telephone was answered.
    “Donner.” The voice was deep, unaccented, and without compromise. It reminded Brad vaguely of his older brother.
    “I’m working on the money I owe you,” he told the man. “I’m staying on Opal Cay. One way or the other, I’ll have it in a few weeks; a month at the outside.”
    “Do you think your brother will give it to you?” came the amused reply. “Josh Lawson isn’t known for a life of frivolity.”
    “No, but he’s known for other reasons,” Brad said defensively.
    “Sure. His money and his cutthroat approach to business. But he won’t save you if you try to duck out of paying me,” the silky voice purred. “And just between us, I don’t think he’ll try. He doesn’t like gamblers. Even ones he’s related to.”
    “Blood is thicker than water.”
    “Strange that you should mention blood,” Donner said carelessly. “Don’t let me down, Lawson. Don’t even think about it.”
    “I told you. I’m working on it.” The man chilled Brad’s blood. Donner had been connected with a couple of murders though he’d never gone to court for any of them. Brad was worried, but he had nobody to blame except himself. He didn’t really expect Josh to bail him out of this one. No, he’d have to get himself out of this mess. “I’ll get back to you next week.”
    “You’d better. I know where to find you.”
    “Don’t I know it.” He sighed and put down the receiver.
    He needed to get his hands on a substantial amount of cash at once. He’d tried his luck at the tables, but that hadn’t worked. He knew Donner was too intelligent to leave him bleeding in a ditch even if he did look more like a wrestler than a casino owner. He would probably show up at a board meeting, cause a scene, and blow the whistle on him. Josh would then have no choice but to pay the debt and kick Brad out. Brad winced at the thought of it. He had to find a way out—any way out.

 
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER
    SIX
     
    A manda was sleeping late. Josh had taken her to dinner the night before, but it had been a quiet, uncomfortable outing. Despite his attempt at humor, he was having trouble coping with their new relationship. He couldn’t seduce her, but it was impossible to think of her as Harrison Todd’s little girl anymore. He seemed to have spent the entire time working to keep his hands off her while he endured the gnawing ache in his loins. By the time they got back home, his nerves, and apparently hers, were shot. They parted company at once.
    She’d mentioned going home Friday, which was tomorrow. He hadn’t argued. He’d wanted to, but she was right. It was a hopeless situation, and every day they spent together made matters worse. He didn’t want to hurt her. For her sake, it was better that she left before he lost his precarious control.
    He sat down in his study and reached for the telephone. It might be a good idea, he thought, to find out how things were going with the newspaper back in San Antonio. If, as Amanda had said, Ward Johnson was paying less attention to management than he should, it didn’t bode well for the paper’s financial future—or that job press she was so worried about saving. He could at least insure that Amanda had a reasonably secure future.
     
     
    W ard Johnson was making up the front page when he was called to the telephone. Down the long wooden makeup board from him, Dora Jackson was making up a grocery ad while one of the part-time people wrote outlines for the photographs and headlines for stories as they were pasted up with hot wax on the ruled sheets.
    Putting down his scissors Ward walked to the extension phone behind him. As he spoke, he