moan for uncle 6 by Terry Towers Page A

a murder charge. He had wondered countless times over the past few days how such a sweet, pretty little thing like Angelique Donovan could murder anyone. But he'd been a bounty hunter for close to ten years and one thing he'd learned in his time capturing bail jumpers was that anyone is capable of committing a crime. And in many cases it was the people you least expected that committed the worst kinds.
    Lincoln sighed. "Well, show-time," he grumbled, thrusting his pistol in his shoulder holster, stuffing a pair of handcuffs in the pocket of his black leather bomber jacket and opening the car door. Not bothering to lock the car, he strutted across the parking lot of the coffee house towards the front entrance, keeping his eyes locked on Angelique.
    He wondered if she'd be the type to run when she discovered who he was and why he was there. Most were, but considering it was a public place with so many co-workers around, maybe he'd get lucky and she'd go quietly, maybe even without him having to cuff her.
    A guy can only dream.
    He opened the front door of the coffee shop for a couple of elderly ladies to exit. They looked up at him, soft smiles touching their lips and muttered their thanks. He gave them a curt nod of his head and slipped through the open door. Of the three girls working the front cashes, Angelique was the only one busy so he waited in line for her.
    "I can help you over here, Sir," one of the available hostesses told him but he gave a slight shake of his head.
    "Nah thanks, I'll wait for Angelique."
    He heard one of the girl mutter 'typical' under her breath followed by, 'she gets all the hot ones.' Lincoln grinned to himself at being referred to as a 'hot one' and removed the mirrored sunglasses that covered his stormy grey eyes and gave the hostess that made the hot one comment a wink. She flushed and scurried away into the back kitchen causing his grin to widen.
    The customer before him took his coffee from the counter when Angelique presented him with it and left. His turn. Stepping up to the counter, with his thumbs hooked into the front pockets of his jeans he waited for Angelique to acknowledge him.
    "How can I help you?" Angelique looked up, her eyes shining, her smile friendly. She chewed at her lower lip as she waited for his response, drawing his eyes to her full, glossed lips.
    His cock stirred in his jeans and he growled at himself for letting his mind become distracted; even if it was just long enough to admire her subtle beauty. Shit, even the dorky visor sitting atop her head looked adorable.
    Fuck and double fuck .
    He cleared his throat, pushing his attraction for her to the back of his mind. He had a job to do and eyeing her like a teenager with a hard-on wasn't going to get it done. He slipped his hand into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out his badge. "Well, Angelique... you could help by coming quietly with me."
    He locked gazes with her and waited for it - waiting for the pieces of the puzzle to fall into place for her and for her to realize she'd been tracked down and that she was going to be taken back to Denver.
    That's it honey, think it over....
    Lincoln held his breath, and before his eyes the realization set in. Her eyes widened, her smile faded, and she took a couple of steps back from the cash register.
    Oh come on, don't make me chase you.
    But she was going to run; he could see it in her eyes, as they quickly surveyed the restaurant around her. It was the look a deer got when it sensed a hunter and was about to make a run for it. She took another step back.
    "I... I th -think you have the wrong person."
    Lincoln stuffed the badge back into his inner pocket and then slipped his hand into his outside jacket pocket to produce the handcuffs. "Don't make this harder than it has to be, Angelique."
    She sighed. Frowning, her eyes showed a look of resignation. "Alright," she muttered, "I'll go with you."
    Slipping the cuffs back into his pocket, Lincoln let out a sigh of