The Winner by David Baldacci

“I go by Matt. Like I said, she got away, and as far as I know, she’s fine. But I still wanted to call it in.”

“Call it in?”

“The police. The guy in the Honda was breaking at least several laws that I know of, including a couple of felonies. Too bad I didn’t get to read him his rights.”

“You sound like a cop.”

Had Charlie’s face darkened, or was that his imagination, Riggs wondered.

“Something like that. A long while back. I got the license plate number of both cars.” He looked at Charlie, studying the battered and grizzled face, trying to get beyond the stolid stare he was getting in return. “I’m assuming the BMW belongs to this house, and the woman.”

Charlie hesitated for a moment and then nodded. “She’s the owner.”

“And the Honda?”

“Never seen it before.”

Riggs turned and looked back down the road. “The guy could’ve been waiting partially down the entry road. There’s nothing stopping him from doing that.” Riggs turned and looked back at Charlie.

“That’s why we contracted with you to build the fence and gate.” A glint of anger rose in Charlie’s eyes.

“Now I can see why that might be a good idea, but I only got the signed contract yesterday. I work fast, but not that fast.”

Charlie relaxed at the obvious logic of Riggs’s words and looked down for a moment.

“What about using that phone, Charlie?” Riggs took a step forward. “Look, I know a kidnap attempt when I see one.” He looked up at the facade of the house. “It’s not hard to see why either, is it?”

Charlie took a deep breath, his loyalties sharply divided. He was sick with worry about LuAnn—Catherine, he corrected himself mentally; despite the passage of ten years, he had never been comfortable with her new name. He was finding it close to impossible to allow the police to be called in.

“I take it you’re her friend or family—”

“Both actually,” Charlie said with renewed vigor as he stared over Riggs’s shoulder, a smile breaking across his face.

The reason for that change in attitude reached Riggs’s ears a second later. He turned and watched the BMW pull up behind his truck.

LuAnn got out of the car, glanced at the truck for a moment, until her eyes riveted on the damaged bumper; then she strode up the steps, passing over Riggs to focus on Charlie.

“This guy said you ran into some trouble,” said Charlie, pointing at Riggs.

“Matt Riggs.” Riggs extended his hand. In her boots, the woman wasn’t much shorter than he. The impression of exceptional beauty he had gotten through his binoculars was considerably magnified up close. The hair was long and full, with golden highlights that seemed to catch every streak of the sun’s rays as it slowly rose over them. The face and complexion were flawless to the point of seeming impossible to achieve naturally, yet the woman was young so the cut of the plastic surgeon’s knife could not have beckoned to her yet. Riggs reasoned the beauty must be all her own. Then he spotted the scar that ran along her jawline. That surprised him, it seemed so out of place with the rest of her. The scar also intrigued Riggs because, to his experienced eye, the wound seemed to have been made by a knife with a serrated edge. Most women, he figured, especially those who had the kind of money she obviously did, would have paid any amount to cover up that blemish.

The pair of calm, hazel eyes that stared into Riggs made him conclude that this woman was different. The person he was looking at was one of those rare creations: a very lovely woman who cared little about her looks. As his eyes continued to sweep over her, he noted the lean, elegant, body; but from the smallish hips and waist there grew a breadth of shoulders that suggested exceptional physical strength. When her hand closed around his, he almost gasped. The grip was almost indistinguishable from Charlie’s.

“I hope you’re okay,” said Riggs. “I got the plate number of the Honda. I was going to call it in to the cops, but my cell phone got broken when the guy hit me. The car’s probably stolen anyway. I got a good look at the guy. This is a pretty isolated place. We should be able to nail him, if we act fast enough.”

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