Shades of Sunshine (Lola Pink Mysteries Book 3) by Gina LaManna

Author:Gina LaManna [LaManna, Gina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: humorous mystery, humorous romantic comedy, cozy, Romantic Comedy, female sleuth
Publisher: LaManna Books
Published: 2018-12-29T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

“He wants you to do what?” Dane squinted, studying me as I hung up the cell. “No, that’s not happening.”

“We don’t have a choice,” I argued. “The instructions were clear. If we don’t move and drop the money by midnight, Trey’s dead.”

I had put the phone on speaker during my call with the kidnapper. The man—or woman, I supposed—had used a voice changer and what I assumed was a burner cell to make the call. There’d be no clues even if we had all the hottest tracking gadgets on the market—which we didn’t.

“We heard Trey’s voice,” I said. “That was him, right, Semi?”

The large man closed his eyes and nodded.

“So, we know Trey’s still alive, and we have simple instructions. It shouldn’t be hard,” I said. “I’ll just...do what he said.”

“Lola Pink,” Dane said harshly. “The man asked you to get on a bicycle and pedal down a dark path at midnight to leave the money on a rock. Alone. I’m not letting that happen.”

“He won’t hurt me,” I said. “I’m engaged to you, Dane. You have a million bucks riding on this. Semi has a brother out there. A lot of people want this guy. If he hurts me, he’ll never get away with it. His incentive is to take the money and run—that would be the smart thing for him to do, and he’s not stupid.”

“But—”

“I’ll take Semi’s gun,” I said. “If that will make you feel better.”

“Do you know how to use a gun?” Semi asked. “Ever fired one?”

“Nope and nope,” I said. “But I’m assuming you sorta point and pull the trigger if the movies are to be believed. Look, we have to move. Drive, Semi. You heard the drop spot.”

Semi began to drive because there was nothing else he could do. The kidnapper had instructed us to pull the SUV down to the parking lot where old Mr. Reynolds’s grocery store used to be. There, on the rack out front, a bicycle would be waiting for me.

From there, I was supposed to bike—alone—down the trail behind the new condos to a small clearing behind the lake. I knew the place well—during the day, it was a bright park complete with a children’s playground, a miniature rock-climbing wall, and a small little dock where kids fed ducks and ran away from an extremely aggressive infestation of geese.

I was to leave the duffle bag, which would be slung over my arm while riding, on the park bench nearest the dock. I knew the one—it was the coveted lunch bench that was taken by ten thirty every morning and not vacated until after sunset. At midnight, however, the park would be vacant.

The evil beauty of the kidnapper’s plan was that no cars could reach the drop spot easily. Neither could a person on foot, and by giving me a bike, it ensured I’d be moving a lot faster than either Dane or Semi could follow. It ensured that I would be utterly and completely alone.

“You’re not going in there,” Dane said.

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