Free Mississippi Blues by D'Ann Lindun Page A

“You can’t make me.”
    â€œYou’ll go if I have to throw you overboard.”
    â€œYou wouldn’t.” Her words were brave, but there was a shadow of doubt in her eyes.
    Had Angola made him into such a prick that he’d rescue a girl only to scare her to death? Shit, why wouldn’t she just go away? “There are clothes in the closet. Put something on,” he ordered.
    He reached for the blanket and she dodged away, the blanket catching on the edge of the door. Unprepared to catch it, the material fell to the floor. Lifting her chin, she stared defiantly at him. God help him, he should’ve looked away, but his eyes refused to obey. She stood nearly nude before him, her hands at her sides. Her bra was twisted around her waist, her panties and skirt hung from her hips. Red welts and scratches covered her pale skin and dried blood covered her right breast.
    Jace’s stomach rolled and bile rose in his throat at the sight.
    He should’ve killed the motherfucker who did this to her.
    When he caught up to the bastard who raped his mother, he gave him a beating the guy deserved, but he hadn’t killed him. Jace’s resolve to find out who had murdered Deke Soloman grew. Although the bastard deserved to die, Jace hadn’t done it. He couldn’t stand to look at Lindy another second.
    â€œPut something on.” She refused to move until he advanced another inch with a steely glare. “Move.”
    She dove by him and did as he told her.
    While she dressed, he gathered his jumpsuit and the remnants of the chains he’d filed off and crammed them in a cooler and secured it with a bungee cord. With a quick look over his shoulder, he slipped outside and tossed it overboard. He watched as it sank out of sight then went back inside and found matches, flashlight, a change of clothes, and all the food on the boat. All went in a pile. He grabbed the first aid kit and added it too. Gathering all, he stuffed it in a duffle bag. He pounded on the bathroom door. “Let’s go.”
    Obviously reluctant, Lindy came out of the bedroom wearing a pair of baggy jeans and a man’s T-shirt that hung past her hips. On her feet, she wore a pair of flip-flops that looked two sizes too big. “Happy? I look like a clown.”
    With huge clothing and dark rings of mascara rimming her eyes, she still looked good as Mama’s cornbread smothered in honey to him. “You’re not going to a beauty contest.” He motioned toward the door. “Now haul your ass. You’re going home and I’m going to find the killer who ruined my life.”
    She shuffled out the door holding her too-big pants up with both hands. “Not without me.”

Chapter Five
    Trey couldn’t sleep.
    He tossed and turned, unable to put a finger on exactly what was bugging him. Rolling over, he checked his watch. Two in the morning. The Chief seemed invincible, but Trey knew he worried about Jace’s return. Plus, his wife’s illness had to be wearing him down. Then there was Lindy. The Chief wanted her to stay in the house, but she had done what she pleased and left in a huff again.
    Had she come home yet? Trey hadn’t heard her come in. She had been gone over four hours, and no one including him, even worried about her. Suddenly wide awake, he got up and dressed in the dark. Sick at heart, he went to her room and knocked. She didn’t answer. He eased open the door and looked inside. As he feared, she wasn’t there. She was probably at someone’s graduation party. They hadn’t even eaten a slice of cake for her big day. Maybe he could make it up to her.
    Slipping out of the house, he went to the garage and backed out the gleaming red Mustang. The car had been his pride and joy. He’d found her at an auction, bought her for a song and he, Jody, and Jace had restored her. A vintage ’69, cherry red with a big block engine, she was any guy’s