Colby Core by Debra Webb Page A

able to beat it. That part’s not clear in the bones, Mr. Porter. You got a war in front of you. You been lucky your whole life, but luck ain’t always enough.”
    â€œI appreciate the advice,” Riley said, though his tone sounded more perfunctory than appreciative. He pushed to his feet. “We’ll check into the lead you’ve provided.”
    â€œThank you,” Tessa said as she, too, stood. She looked to Riley. “We’re glad to support your work.”
    Riley pulled a few bills from his pocket and offered them to the man. Moses took the money and rubbed it between his fingers.
    He nodded. “I’ll take it.” His gaze moved from Riley to Tessa and back. “This money is clean. That’s a good thing.”
    â€œThank you again,” Tessa offered. “We don’t have much time so we need to be on our way.”
    Moses held her gaze. “You got less time than you think. Better hurry.”
    By the time they were in the truck and winding their way along the narrow dirt road worry had worked Tessa’s nerves into a frenzy.
    â€œWhat if he’s right?” Parts of what he’d said she hoped were right…but the last. Dear God, time could be shorter than they knew.
    â€œI’m not really a believer in that sort of thing,” Riley commented.
    If that was supposed to make her feel better, it didn’t.
    â€œHe’s helped a lot of folks,” she reminded Riley. “That has to mean something.”
    â€œMaybe,” he allowed. “There’s also a possibility that Renwick’s cancer simply went into remission. The same might have happened whether he was treated by Moses or not.”
    That was true, she supposed. Something Moses had said suddenly poked through the worry. “He called you Mr. Porter.”
    Riley’s gaze bumped hers for a split second. “So.”
    She shook her head. “I didn’t tell him your last name. I only said that you were my friend, Riley.”
    Riley thought about that statement for a moment. “Maybe you did and you don’t remember.”
    â€œDo you remember?” she countered.
    He shrugged. “Whatever. Which way to the Rusty Hinge? I’ve been there, but not from here.”
    She gave him turn-by-turn directions as they went.
    Her mind wouldn’t let go the idea that Moses had warned of a major battle for Riley. Tessa considered his strong profile. He was a handsome man. Not that much older than her, she thought. Solid square jaw, a little bruised at the moment. Pleasantly shaped nose. His eyes were different. The shade of gold that madeher think of sparkling sunshine. Bright and warm and welcoming.
    Her attention slid down to the steel band around his neck. What if that thing couldn’t be deactivated?
    She had dreamed of a hero for so very long. Not once in all that time had she considered that the hero she longed for might have to sacrifice his life to save the children and her.
    From the moment she’d laid eyes on Riley in the questioning room, she had sensed something different about him.
    Tessa didn’t want him to die.
    Rusty Hinge, 3:55 p.m.—42 hours, 5 minutes remaining
    â€œT HEY’RE NOT OPEN FOR business yet.” Tessa scanned the vehicles parked at the side of the run-down warehouse that now served as a hangout for the less than savory members of New Orleans society. She didn’t see any that she recognized. Good thing.
    If the Master had tried to call the cell phone he’d given her, he, of course, wouldn’t get through. But he knew where she was. Ross’s people had confirmed that ugly fact.
    â€œWe’ll wait.”
    What was wrong with this man? “We don’t have the time.” She reached for her door. “If Ike’s a bartender, chances are he’s in there preparing for the night.”
    â€œYou’re not going in there alone.” Riley wrappedthose long, protective fingers