Page 117 of Tequila Tuesdays

“No, not yet!”

I started running. “What park are you at?”

“The one by my house. Oh, God. The Desert Highland Park. On the side closest to my mom’s apartment.”

“Okay. Okay.” I saw a couple of bailiffs manning the entrance to the courthouse. “Harmon!” I yelled. He was the bailiff who’d told me about the bet.

He straightened when he saw me running toward him. “What d’you need, Harley?”

“Call nine-one-one!” I was breathless when I reached him. “My client locked herself in a bathroom at the Desert Highland Park on the south side of the park in north Palm Springs. A man is trying to get to her and her two-year-old sister. He’s unstable and there’s a no-contact order against him. Can you call it in while I keep talking to her on my phone?”

He didn’t waste a second and pulled out his cell phone. I put Shanda on speakerphone.

I could hear Bertie crying, and Jason yelling through the bathroom door. I felt helpless and sick.

“You fucking cunt! You think you’re gonna testify against me?” Jason screamed. “You think you can turn on me and I won’t take you and your fucking family out?”

Harmon, the bailiff, got the dispatcher on the line and started quickly and calmly relaying information.

The other bailiff came over. “Tell the asshole the police are on the way.”

Shanda must have heard him. “Jason, just leave me alone! The police are coming. They’ll be here any minute,” Shanda yelled in a scared, shaky voice.

“You didn’t have enough time to call them, you stupid bitch.” He laughed bitterly. “I’m going to stick a gun under your chin and blow your fucking brains out. After I cut out your tongue.”

The bailiffs looked at each other. I knew they were both worried about Jason being armed.

“I’m talking to Harley, and she called them,” Shanda said in a shaky voice.

“You stupid little cunt! You can’t hide forever.” Jason pounded on the door again.

“My investigator’s coming too,” Shanda yelled back. “He said he’d be here in three minutes, and he used to be a detective.”

I froze as her words penetrated my brain.

“No. Please, God, no. Not Damien. Not Damien,” I chanted. Then I dropped my briefcase and ran.

Chapter 37

Harmonandtheotherbailiff yelled after me, but I kept running. I still had my shoulder backpack on me with my car keys in it.

I put the phone back to my ear. “You better leave now!” I heard Shanda yell.

Bertie was still crying, and I could hear what sounded like Jason now kicking the door.

“Harley? The lock is bending. I think he’s kicking it,” she cried.

I ran harder.

Luckily, I’d worn loafers and a pantsuit, so I made it to my vehicle in record time. My hands were shaky as I tried to open my car door.

I finally got in and backed out, but I knew the courthouse was at least ten minutes away from the park. The police had to get there before the door gave way. And I prayed they’d get there before Damien.

I forced myself to stop being so stupid and useless. Shanda needed me. I tried to picture her locked in the little one-person bathroom and mentally thought of what she could use against him. “Do you have Bertie in a stroller?” I asked.

She paused, probably wondering why in the world I was asking her that. “Yeah. Harley why are—”

“Take Bertie out and put her behind you. If he’s able to kick in the door, try to run him over with the stroller as hard as you can.”

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