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renakoontz.com
Category:
Action/Thriller
Type: Fiction
Pages: 79
Copyright: March 8, 2021
Price: $0.99 (eBook)
A Novella
The city's richest man has been kidnapped and it's up to A.J. to rescue him. Only she'd prefer he was dead.
Sergeant A. J. Lozione is the consummate professional who gives her all to every assignment. But this is no ordinary kidnapping case.
She’s tasked with rescuing Harrison City’s wealthiest resident, a man whose philanthropic generosity makes most people excuse his philandering behavior.
But A. J. can’t forgive his wandering ways or the fact that he broke her heart years ago. She’s the only woman who turned her nose up at his money, his adulterous ways, and his presumed entitlement.
The kidnapper’s deadline is midnight.
Will she save Tobias Benjamin Amanscott even though she wants him dead?
Excerpt
She had until midnight.
Until then, each minute that passed shortened the hostage’s life. His life. The man she once...
A.J. could literally watch the time tick away to midnight on the oversized analog clock hanging in the center of the wall in the squad room, its shiny white face accented by black digits and two fat hands.
In between, a spaghetti-thin second hand jumped from one dash to the next, in deliberate motion. Tick. Tick. Tick to the kidnapper’s deadline.
Her colleagues stood around the room waiting for her orders, staring at her as if she were the timepiece eating up their precious minutes. On the wall, the second hand jumped another notch.
When most of the detectives and office staff had already gone for the day, A.J. could not only witness time marching on while she sat at her desk, she heard it. One monotonous click after the next.
It echoed in her ears now. Each hand movement, large or small, shrunk the open window for her to locate and rescue Harrison City’s richest man. Thirteen hours and counting. Unlucky thirteen. Or maybe not.
This morning, the squad room felt overly warm and her breakfast bar lay heavy on her stomach. Or did the situation she found herself in make everything more uncomfortable?
His office staff reported T.B. Amanscott missing when he failed to show up for a charity sunrise breakfast this morning. A.J. listened to the news account on her way to the police station after interviewing the owner of a jewelry store whose business was robbed the day before. As always, she cringed at the mention of Tobias’ name.
Probably hungover, or coming down from a cocaine high, or shacked up with some bimbo his wife turned a blind eye to. It wasn’t only her. The entire city looked the other way at Tobias Benjamin Amanscott’s shenanigans because he was a wealthy benefactor for so many causes. Every time the man got his tit caught in the wringer, he bought his way out of it. He had the money. And the political connections. And the stones.
She arrived at the justice center shortly before ten and smirked after she parked her car and quieted the radio. T.B. hated being called Tobias Benjamin. He informed her of that fact the first time they met and, after asking her name, immediately bestowed an initial moniker on her as well.
Everyone in this building, from the janitors to the judges, knew Sergeant Ariana Jeanne Lozione as A.J.
The identity initials were the only thing Tobias Benjamin Amanscott ever did for her that lasted. She was the one indulgence he couldn’t keep. Or buy. The only woman who turned her nose up at his money, his adulterous ways, and his presumed entitlement. The sole living creature who denied him and walked away.
The city was in a tizzy, which ramped up the level of chaos inside the justice building. A low roar rolled around the lobby. A.J. waited for a woman to step off the elevator, glancing twice at the familiar face but not immediately connecting a name. Ah, yes. She was one woman linked in a long line of Tobias Benjamin Amanscott’s lovers. Jesus, were investigators interviewing ex-girlfriends? Of course, they would. But how far back would they go?
A.J. tugged her shirt collar away from her neck as the double doors slid closed.
Strolling to her desk, she mentally reviewed the day ahead of her, planning a couple phone calls before lunch and more field work in the afternoon. That was before the pink memo on top of her blotter instructed her to report to the captain’s office sooner rather than later.
And that’s when it all hit the fan.
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