Framed Shadows: Shadows Landing #6 by Kathleen Brooks (i am reading a book .txt) 📕

“Peace be with y’all and today’s Sunday Special is at the Pink—” Reverend Winston probably finished his sentence, but Tinsley was already off at a dead run.

Tinsley leaped over Miss Winnie and bolted around Terry Clemmons only to have his son, Quad, catch up to her.

“It’s cute when my babysitter thinks she can outrun me,” he shot over his shoulder as he sprinted past her.

Tinsley pumped her arms and stretched out her legs. She might be short, but she was quick. The church was a blur as she ran past the property and approached her gallery. All that stood between her and victory was Quad, her art gallery, and the historical society.

Behind her, she heard the rumble of Mr. Gann and Mr. Knoll’s electric scooters. Both elderly men had been competitors on the dirt track racing circuit and had modified their electric scooters with large motors to compete in the weekly dash to lunch. If they weren’t ramming into each other, cursing at each other, and adding more and more modifications to their scooters, they weren’t really living.

Tinsley smiled at herself when Quad looked over his shoulder at the old men racing down Main Street and stumbled. She could overtake Quad at the historical society.

Tinsley pushed herself hard only to be yanked to the side so hard it felt as if her arm was dislocated. She gave a yelp of surprise that had Quad looking back again.

“You’re a hard woman to get in touch with. You’re in deep trouble and I’m your only way out of it.”

Tinsley looked up at the man holding her tightly. He wrenched her arm behind her and slapped on handcuffs faster than she could scream. But scream she did.

“Hey, man. Take your damn hands off my babysitter.” Quad towered over them, looking ready to knock the man in the suit out.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a badge. “FBI. Get lost, kid. Or do you want to be arrested, too?”

“Screw you. You can’t take my babysitter. Tinsley has never done anything wrong a day in her life.”

Tinsley fought against the handcuffs, but the man just wrenched her arm to the point she was afraid it was going to snap.

“She’s stolen a hundred million dollars worth of art. She’s under arrest and you will be too if you don’t back off.” The man claiming to be FBI pulled a gun and Quad backed off.

“What? Who are you? Let go of me!” Tinsley renewed her fight as the man dragged her toward a car.

“It’s okay, Tinsley,” Quad said gently as the man shoved her into a running car that certainly looked like an FBI vehicle. “Sheriff!” Quad yelled. “He’s taking Tinsley!”

“Let go of her!” Mr. Gann yelled as he grabbed his cane like he was going to joust the agent.

“Trevino!” Tinsley heard Paxton yell, but it was too late. Mark Trevino sped away from the curb with Tinsley locked in the back of his FBI vehicle. Tinsley glanced behind her to see Mr. Gann and Mr. Knoll gaining on them in their motorized scooters. No longer were they competing against each other, but they were working together to try to save her. Tears sprang to her eyes as Paxton’s worried face faded until all she could see was the distant image of the two old men racing after her.

“You’re not arresting me, are you?” Tinsley asked, gathering her wits.

“Sure I am. You are in possession of stolen property and you’ll be arrested unless you hand it over.”

Tinsley took in the FBI agent most likely responsible for shooting Paxton and working with Curtis Engle. He was around five foot nine, lean, and had coloring that spoke of Mediterranean heritage. His dark brown hair was slicked back and he wore a ring on his pinky.

“The paintings are in my gallery,” Tinsley lied, trying to get him to turn around.

“No, they aren’t. I searched your gallery, broke into your vault, and also searched your home. You’re a very talented artist, Miss Faulkner. I bet the prices of your art will skyrocket once you’re dead,” Mark said as if he hadn’t just threatened her life.

Tinsley was quiet for a moment as she watched them head toward Charleston. She knew the whole town would be in hot pursuit by now. Paxton would be leading the charge. Granger, Kord, Ridge, and Ryker would be right behind him. She almost felt sorry for Mark if Harper got to him first.

All of this meant she needed to buy time. The best way to buy time was to be quiet except for the little sniffles and tears she deployed, observe everything, and then make her move. All her life, people had underestimated her at every turn. This man would be no different. He hadn’t even checked her for weapons. Tina was on her thigh under her dress. It was a fitted tank top that went down into a flowing maxi skirt. The dagger was hidden in the candlestick in her purse, now strapped to her by the handcuffs. All she needed to do was sit quietly, look fearful, and then talk them into taking off the handcuffs. She didn’t need her family, friends, or even Paxton to rescue her. Tinsley was perfectly capable of rescuing herself and she was sick and tired of being scared. Tired of being overlooked. Tired of being taken advantage of because she was the nice one. No, she was going to take Mark Trevino down and Curtis Engle with him because she’d bet anything that was where Mark was taking her.

Paxton’s mind was in chaos. He wanted to race after her on foot and did until Granger’s police SUV skidded to a stop next to him. “Get in,” Granger yelled. “Who was that?” Granger asked as he sped off in the direction Mark had driven.

“FBI Agent Mark Trevino,” Paxton said, his mind going in a million directions at once as he worked to get himself under control.

“Dammit,” Granger cursed.

“Exactly. He’s taking