The Innocent Witness Read Free Page A

touched the low wattage mini Taser to his arm.
    With a loud oath, he let go of her and stumbled back. His gun fell to the ground.
    Viv’s instincts told her to grab the door and lock it shut, but what good would that do? They’d be sitting ducks inside the vehicle. Even if the SUV was equipped with bullet-resistant windows or side armor, she and Mikey were as good as done for unless they got away. She needed the SUV’s keys.
    Praying she’d remember her kicks and punches from her women’s self-defense classes, she jumped out and ran to Jones, who sat on the ground looking stunned. The Taser had done its job—momentarily immobilizing her attacker. Supposedly long enough to run away. But she rushed closer.
    He lashed out, his forearm connecting hard against her hip sending her careening sideways. But years of teetering on high heels had taught her to recover her balance quickly. She bent her knees and found her center. Using her elbow, she landed a jab across the agent’s jaw. Taking advantage of the moment, she grabbed the keysfrom his jacket pocket and then practically dove back into the driver’s seat of the SUV.
    She yanked the door shut, locked it and fumbled with the keys. Jones got his feet underneath him. Frantic, she managed to get the right key in the ignition and start the engine just as he reached the door. He banged on the glass with the butt of the gun, trying to break the glass. Viv flinched. On the other side of the SUV, Thompson had risen, but was stumbling around, still clutching his face.
    Throwing the vehicle into reverse, she floored the gas. The SUV shot backward, away from the two agents. She twisted the wheel, sending the big boat of an automobile into a sliding spin. When the nose of the SUV was pointed away from the agents and toward the road, she threw the gearshift into drive and roared away, leaving the two agents in the dust.
    In the backseat Mikey grew agitated. He hit his ears and rocked back and forth. She powered down the window to let fresh air in and clenched her jaw tight, hating that she couldn’t comfort her son. She had to concentrate on getting them as far away as possible as quickly as possible. Though unfamiliar with the streets in this part of town, it didn’t take her long to find her way to a major thoroughfare.
    Thirty minutes later, she pulled off the road and parked in the dark lot a of strip mall. She needed help. She knew what she had to do. Making this call grated on her pride and twisted her insides into knots. But for Mikey’s sake she would do anything.
    Her father was the only one who could help. With trembling hands, she dug her cell phone out, dialed hiscell phone and waited anxiously. When her father answered, the relief she felt at the sound of his voice surprised her.
    Tears filled her eyes. “Dad, I’m in trouble.”
    Â 
    Anthony Carlucci stared at the brick brownstone nestled halfway down the block on one of Boston’s prestigious Back Bay neighborhood streets. Not what he’d expected. He’d imagined the famous Trent Associates to be housed in some state-of-the-art glass skyscraper in a more metropolitan area downtown, not this unassuming brownstone with quaint shutters, window baskets teeming with colorful flowers and stone steps leading to a wide door painted red.
    But lately life hadn’t turned out the way he’d expected. Why should this be any different?
    Just to be sure he was at the right place, he checked the address on the business card his sister Angie had thrust into his hand two days ago when she’d visited the construction site where he worked as night security. Having been in the protection business for years, Anthony had heard of James Trent and his league of personal protection specialists. He’d just never imagined himself becoming one.
    â€œTake one assignment. See how it goes,” his sister had said, her big brown eyes imploring him to do as she wanted.
    â€œI