“You bitch,” he grunted, his fetid breath smelling like death, his hands tightening their grip on her arm.
“Where is it?” he hissed through clenched teeth, his eyes suddenly lighting on the shimmering gold necklace almost hidden beneath her sweatshirt.
He growled in satisfaction and released his grip on her arm, instead grabbing the necklace in his large hand. He yanked viciously, but the gold was thick and the clasp sturdy. The necklace clung to her neck possessively.
Her struggles shifted from trying to get away from the man, to grasping at the necklace, to keep herself from being strangled. As he grappled, pulling and tugging at the necklace, her air supply was slowly being cut off.I’ll strangle to death before it comes off,she thought in panic, her vision beginning to blur. She choked, fighting back nausea as his unrelenting strength pulled the necklace tighter…tighter. She tried to kick out at him, but she was tiring, and his grip was maddeningly strong. She felt her eyes bulging, the cords of her neck taut as she pulled and gasped for blessed air. Tears squeezed from her eyes as her vision stopped blurring, but darkened ominously. Just as the darkness of unconsciousness threatened to claim her, she had an irrational burst of anger at Tony. He was apparently going to sit in his car and eat his damned breakfast, oblivious to the fact that she was dying.
* * *
Tony unwrapped his egg biscuit, his stomach rumbling with hunger as the scent of bacon and egg filled the interior of the car. As he took his first bite, a car squealed around the corner of the building, pulling up between his car and the front door of the place. Ah, another hungry morning traveler, he thought, finishing his biscuit in three big bites. He looked back toward the building, wondering what had happened to Libby. He was anxious to get back on the road, but he knew all about women and their secret rest room rituals. He’d never known a woman who could make a bathroom stop in under ten minutes.
He tilted his head to one side, strange sounds filtering into his open window. A struggle… Yes, that’s what it sounded like. He heard grunts, skin beating against skin…harsh noises that had no place in the beauty of the spring morning. His gaze shot back to the car parked between him and the building.
His nose twitched and the egg biscuit he’d just consumed turned to lead in the pit of his stomach. He jumped out of his car, simultaneously pulling his gun from the top of his boot. Rage ripped through him as he rounded the side of the car and saw Libby in a death grip. Her face was white and her eyes were opened wide, as if she saw her own death.
The man holding her looked up, startled at the sight of Tony with his gun drawn. “You son of a bitch,” Tony snarled, his anger a force that vibrated around him. In an instant the man released Libby and jumped back into the car, which sped away with a shrill squeal of tires.
Tony didn’t waste time chasing after the car or firing a shot after it. With his heart thudding painfully in his chest, he raced to where Libby lay pale and unmoving on the concrete of the parking lot. He shoved the gun back into the top of his boot as he crouched down next to her, his throat thick with emotion.
“Libby, are you all right?” He leaned down over her, moaning softly as he saw the red, angry welts around her slender, pale neck. He brushed a strand of her silky hair off her face, relief flooding through him as her eyelids fluttered rapidly, then opened.
“Remind me to buy you some nose spray,” she uttered, her voice hoarse as he helped her struggle to a sitting position on the pavement.
“Nose spray?” He looked at her worriedly. Had she hit her head on the pavement and now was suffering some sort of disorientation?
Libby nodded. “That famous nose of yours should have told you something like this was going to happen.” She smiled weakly, then winced and rubbed her neck. “This peccadillo you have for eating breakfast is definitely dangerous to my well-being.”
Tony smiled down at her in relief, touching the tip of her nose with the end of his finger. “Let’s get the hell out of here,” he said, gently helping her up and leading her to the car.
He eased her into the passenger seat of the car, his rage flaring again as he saw her unconsciously touch her neck and wince. His eyes narrowed as he thought of the man who had hurt her. Tony would kill him if given the chance.
“Did you get a good look at the men in the car?” Tony asked, maneuvering the lid off the cup of coffee and handing it to her.
Libby took the coffee gratefully, pausing a moment to take a sip of the hot brew, finding the heat soothing on her aching throat. “Not the driver, but I got a real good look at the man who grabbed me. He was white.”
“You mean Caucasian,” he corrected automatically, accustomed to years of taking down descriptions of suspects.
“No, I mean he was white…really white,” Libby explained. “His skin was white, his hair was white and he had the eyes of a little mouse, all beady and pinkish.” She shivered suddenly, realizing how close she had come to being strangled to death. Her skin still retained the evil cold clamminess of the man’s hands and she shivered once again, never feeling more mortal than at this very moment.
“You mean he was an albino?” Tony asked, once again fighting a murderous rage as he felt the force of her shiver across the expanse of the front seat of the car.
“Yes…that’s what he was…an albino….” Libby reached up and touched the gold of the necklace around her neck. How could anything so beautiful feel so evil… so frigid?
Tony reached over and took her hand. “Are you all right?”
She took a deep, steadying breath and smiled at him, finding his hand grasping hers comforting in a very nice way. “I’m fine.” She smiled crookedly at him. “I’m a tough old bird.”
As he wheeled the car back onto the highway, he released her hand, making her feel oddly bereft. She stared out the window, focused on the scenery, trying to regain a modicum of peace. Yes, she was a tough old bird, but she was being pushed to her limit. She reached up and touched the necklace once again. This was no game, and there were no civil rules of play.
“Damn,” Tony muttered, checking his rearview mirror. “It looks like we’ve got company.”
Libby whirled around, staring at the black sports car that quickly approached them. It was the same car that the albino had tried to pull her into. She checked her seat belt, making sure it was secure, her mouth suddenly dry as her stomach twisted in knots.
“Hang on…here they come,” he said tersely, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel.
The sports car slid alongside of Tony’s car, metal crunching against metal as it swerved into the side of their car.
Libby stifled a scream. “What are they trying to do?” she gasped in horror.
