The Evasion by Adrienne Giordano Page B

room.”
    As much as he wanted to believe she’d keep that promise, when it came to Martinson, Jo sometimes lost all track of her sanity. If catching Martinson meant breaking promises, she’d do it. He knew this about her. And maybe he hadn’t reconciled that with himself yet, but if nothing else, he understood her passion for the job. He poked his finger at her. “You stay in that room. Door locked.”
    She waved him off. “I’ve got it. I said I would and I will.”
    “Then let’s roll.”
     
    Five minutes after Gabe left, Jo’s boss called back and told her the client cancelled the video conference.
    Seriously? After making her drop everything, they bailed on her. Now she’d be stuck in this room until Gabe returned, because going outside for air would send Mr. August to fits.
    She adored the man, but his overprotectiveness made her insane.
    The scraping of a key sliding into the door lock drew her gaze. He must have forgotten something. She took two steps. No . Gabe would have called out, alerted her. The door swung open, one smooth arc that she tracked until the door bumped the wall.
    In front of her stood Donald Martinson. With a shiny silver key in his hand. Gabe ’s key? Something jammed in her throat. No. Couldn’t be. Gabe would pummel the much smaller Martinson. Plus, he was armed with his giant .45mm. Between Gabe and that gun, Martinson didn’t stand a chance.
    She glanced at the white key ring she’d never seen before. Not Gabe’s key . Bursting air flew from Jo’s mouth, the relief so intense she missed Martinson’s approach, his coal-black eyes on her. Her prey had once again spun things around, made her the vulnerable one.
    Get out now .
    She dodged right, swung an elbow and connected with the meaty part of his bicep. He grabbed the back of her shirt, his fingers gouging her skin.
    “You’re not going anywhere. I almost got you in the street, but Sergeant Townsend continues to get in my way. Not this time.”
    The black truck. Martinson had been driving. Bastard .
    “That was you in the truck?”
    Martinson laughed. “Stupid woman. Your sergeant isn’t the only one with contacts in the police department.”
    A leak. As careful as they’d been, someone on Tom’s staff was a traitor. She’d deal with that later. Now, she had to save herself.
    “Help!” Jo screamed.
    She kept her eyes on the door. Get there . Few more steps, that’s all she needed. She swung again, hauled her elbow across his cheek, and the thunk of bone against bone echoed in the quiet room.
    “Goddammit,” Martinson said. A second man about Gabe’s height appeared in the doorway. In his left hand, he held a gym bag. “Don’t let her out.”
    I’m trapped. The man entered the room, closed and locked the door, then gently set the gym bag down. What was in that damned bag?
    Not waiting to find out, Jo backed toward the window and the roll top desk with the ladder-back chair. If she could get to the chair, she’d at least have a weapon. Something to swing. All she’d need was a whip and she could join the circus. God help her. This life.
    But Martinson anticipated her move and slid into the corner behind her. Slowly, the two men advanced, sandwiching her between them. She shifted her gaze left and right, searching for any escape. Nowhere to go. Still, she wouldn’t stand there and make it easy.
    No chance.
    The bed was directly in front of her. It would slow her down, but if she could get there, she’d scramble across it and head to the door.
    Do it. Now .
    She leaped, landed in the middle of the bed and gripped the far edge, pulling herself across. A huge weight bore down on her, not Martinson, the other guy. Something pinched in her ribcage. Jo kicked backward, the heel of her loafer connecting with her attacker’s leg.
    “Crazy bitch. Don’t make me hurt you.”
    “Help,” she yelled again.
    Panic, deep and raw, scraped at her and she clutched the edge of the bed tighter. Where was Mrs. Jenkins? The