WindSwept Narrows: #12 Danielle Greystone

Danielle Hudson had changed into her jeans and tee shirt, fingers absently buttoning the front of her thick jacket when she stepped onto the wide walkway outside the casino. She walked for awhile, a half smile in place when a few flurries of snow came fluttering down around her. She pulled the collar up on her coat and the fuzzy yellow cap down over her hair and ears as she walked. Echoes of the concert were still ringing loudly in her ears, bringing a soft hum out as she walked.

Her first Christmas in her new home, she thought with a wide, sweeping gaze around. Thick, fluffy flakes of snow began sweeping down and swirling in the light winds coming off the water. She made it to the large transportation stop and decided there were still too many lights around her and continued walking, gazing absently to her left and the wide sparkling expanse of Puget Sound waters. It never occurred to her to be wary. It was Christmas Eve, she thought later.

Surely there was peace on earth on Christmas Eve.

“Danny Hudson?” Asked a voice that had once seen the smoke of too many cigarettes.

She turned at the sound of her name, suddenly aware of the car that had pulled along side the road. A man in his forties had exited the driver’s side and approached her, a dark cap on his head and glasses fogged from the abrupt exposure to the cold.

“Yes?” Dark eyes blinked quickly when her arm was grabbed.

“The boss wants to talk to you,” he said simply, grabbing her arm and hauling her toward the car. He had the back seat door open when she pulled away, his hand out and barely making the snag around her middle. He caught a flailing elbow to the side of his head, a low curse leaving his lips when her feet connected with his ankles. Hands were flying around them both as she screamed and struggled to keep from being put into the car.

“I don’t know any boss!” She wailed anxiously.

“Well, he knows you,” was the returned growl.

Danielle heard the lock slip rapidly into place when she was flung onto the cushiony leather seat of the large black vehicle. She kicked out solidly, her fists up and pounding on the window between them. Muddied boots hit the back of the leather seat over and over.

“Let me go! You’ve made a mistake!” She pounded some more, kicking at the back seat as the car moved silently forward. She threw herself against the seat, hands out and trying the door handles only to find them unresponsive.

“Boss, I got Danny Hudson.”

“I’m at the apartment,” came the dry response. “I’ll meet you outside.”

“Be right there,” the driver told him, breaking the connection, his head shaking at the noise from behind him. He didn’t know why the boss wanted this Danny Hudson, but he hoped it was worth it, because he was positive there’d be hell to pay.

Danielle ran the gauntlet between anger and fear, going through everything in her pockets, which was nothing. Her apartment opened with her thumbprint. She’d been in the recital and left her phone on the counter in the kitchen with her wallet. She laid down on the seat, allowing the tears to flow in her frustration and fear.

Brady O’Conner stepped onto the concrete as the car pulled before the main entrance. The black evening jacket he wore was shoved back, his hands in his pockets. It wasn’t that he was getting tired of putting Danny Hudson back on the wagon again but a part of him wondered if one time he would be too late to help the man.

“Better be careful, boss,” Wes Calder warned with a shaking head as Brady’s hand reached for the back door handle. “She’s a spitfire…” he said, rubbing his temple with a wince.

Brady froze in place. Dark brows raised and lashes closed over a set of midnight eyes. He sighed thickly. His palm hovered over the unopened door.

“She?” He repeated very slowly.

“Yeah…you said Danny Hudson. Found her at the new resort…” He looked over at his employer with the first hints of doubt.

“Danny Hudson is your age and almost bald,” Brady said with quiet calm.

“Shit.”