"It would be wonderful if you could sign an autograph for me," Mrs. Nelson interrupted.

Mo strode to the door. With any luck, she would be in her car before Ross could escape poor Mrs. Nelson.

"Oooooo," Mo heard the woman squeal as she exited. "You know what would be perfect? If you could sign one of those posters. You know the one where you're holding the big gun? I just loved that gun, it was so-"

Mo shut the door. She almost felt sorry for the poor guy...until she saw that his Mercedes had blocked her Mini in the Nelson's driveway.

She heard an engine start nearby and glanced up. Half a block away sat a rusted rattletrap of a compact car, which had faded to a pale red color. A ma.s.sive black SUV, with heavily tinted windows, idled behind the rustmobile. Then the SUV's engine revved.

Turning back to her dilemma, Mo moved to stand near the driver's side of the Mercedes to evaluate whether she would be able to maneuver her car around Ross's without hitting the mailbox planted at the curb.

Before she could decide, the sound of tires squealing across the pavement came from behind her.

The sound startled Mo since this neighborhood wasn't the type where you would expect teenagers to be drag racing. She glanced back in time to see the SUV careening down the street in her direction. The vehicle mowed down the Nelson mailbox. The American flag that had been mounted in a pole holder attached to the mailbox post flew through the air like a spear as the SUV barreled across the lawn.

Mo's heart raced but her legs seemed set in concrete.

That car is gonna hit me. I'm gonna die, Mo thought. Move Mo, move you idiot. Why are you standing here waiting to be hit? Still, the only movement Mo seemed capable of was to squeeze her eyes shut and wait for the impact.

No blow came. She opened one eye and then the other. The SUV had stopped less than an inch away. The door of the SUV flew open and then a man emerged. Although gargantuan in height and girth, he moved with agility.

Adrenaline took over. Finally getting her legs to work, Mo whirled and ran back in the direction of the Nelson house. But she only made it a few steps before the SUV driver grabbed her. His hands were the size of dinner plates and bands of white sprang up on the skin of her forearms around his sausage like fingers.

Her head snapped back with the force of the motion as he pulled her to him.

"Hey, funnel cake, let go," Mo screamed as she twisted against his grip.

"Where is he?" Gigantor demanded in a heavily accented voice.

She knew she should feel fear-and she did-but the rage overwhelmed any other emotion in her brain. Mo twisted both arms under and then out, breaking one free from his grasp. She clawed at the thug. Exultation rose like dough when blood sprang from the ragged scratches she made on his hand.

In response, Gigantor released her other hand. Ah ha. Sweet success.

But before she could spring out of reach, he grabbed her around the middle in a violent parody of an embrace. Her ribs compressed, forcing Mo to struggle to drag in a breath. Not what she hoped for when she was in a man's arms. Not even close. She wanted to be breathless with love... or at least l.u.s.t. Not breathless with cracked ribs.

"Where it is?" he asked.

"I. Have. To. Breathe. To. Talk." She barely managed to gasp each word out.

His grip loosened...slightly.

Someone screamed in a high-pitched, screeching wail that hurt Mo's ears. Oh wait. She was the one screaming. Well, if she was going to lose her hearing, in addition to her breakfast, at least the noise would deafen Gigantor also. Perhaps some stray dog would hear her yowling and come to the rescue.

"Stop," he roared. "You hurt ears. Just tell where is?"

Mo struggled against his restraining hands.

Why hadn't she thought to take her gun out of the car trunk? Because she didn't think she'd need it for a meeting about a cross-dressing husband, she answered herself. She never seemed to have her gun when she needed it.

Gigantor released one mallet shaped hand, and then drew it back, before slapping her across the cheekbone. The metallic taste of blood on her lips turned rage to hopeless fear as he began to drag her by one arm toward the open door of his SUV.

Mo had always been confident-foolishly confident it seemed-that she would be able to hold her own in a fight. She would not be pulled into a car against her will. She would never be the helpless victim of rape or murder, too weak to fight back. Mo closed her eyes.

You're strong, you're strong,she chanted to her self.

"Noooooo," she shrieked. She had one hand free but couldn't reach Gigantor. Since pulling back hadn't worked, Mo decided to lunge toward her attacker. She surprised him with a kick to the back of one of his knees, causing a slight buckle.

The stranger growled something that sounded like "sucker" and he stopped. Mo's relief was short-lived as he took her by both arms and shook her again. Mo found out that the old saying about seeing stars was true. She saw a whole constellation, and even a planet or two, in her head. He released her, making Mo fall to her knees. Her legs sc.r.a.ped against the gra.s.s as Gigantor dragged her again toward the SUV.

Ross was still trying to pry himself out of the clutches of his biggest fan when he heard the caterwaul from outside the house. He knew instinctively that wail emanated from Mo. Breaking away from a startled Jessica Nelson, Ross sprinted out the front door where he spotted a goliath hauling a half conscious Mo to a black SUV. The goliath was the blockhead from the square.

Mo's brown eyes met his. "Help. Gigantor's kidnapping me."

A band of fear cinched around Ross chest. Would he be able to reach Mo before the thug forced her into the vehicle?

Blood trickled from the corner of Imogene's mouth. Black rage exploded through his body, replacing fear. Gigantor had hit Mo.

Without thinking about any consequences for his actions, Ross sprinted toward them. Gigantor was focused so intently on his mission with Mo he didn't notice Ross at first. Acting on pure instinct, Ross's fist slammed into Gigantor's nose. Blood gushed forth from the blow. Gigantor's hands flew up to grasp his face, leaving Mo to fall like a rag doll to the ground.

It sounded as if Gigantor said, "pretty clotty," from behind his hands as he turned his furious gaze on Ross.

"Grrrrwwwkkkk," Gigantor growled when he examined the blood on his hands.

Ross decided he'd better follow up with blows to the body. He delivered right and left punches to Gigantor's gut and the pain in his knuckles radiated through his hands as if Ross were punching cement. Gigantor barely reacted, only grunting from the impact of the blows.

"You come too," Gigantor said to Ross. After a few more punches-as if he had been waiting for Ross to tire himself out-the thug's club-like fist fell to clout Ross on the side of the head. Surprisingly, Ross didn't go down...because Gigantor held him by the front of the shirt.

"b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l," Ross groaned.

Mo sat up, now leaning against the SUV's sidepanel. "Ross," she cried.

"Run, Mo. Get out of here."

Gigantor tossed Ross over the vehicle's hood with such force that Ross crashed to the ground on the other side.

Chapter Five.

Mo's knees wavered but held her up.

Gigantor, stomping on his overdeveloped legs in a wide stance, rounded the SUV's front b.u.mper. He marched toward Ross, who rolled away from the thug before jumping up.

Ross appeared strong and marvelously brave, even if he was now covered in lawn clippings. But Gigantor-who had half a foot and at least one hundred pounds on him- hopelessly outmatched the actor. Mo had to do something to help. She couldn't let Ross suffer anymore pummeling by the thug.

Searching frantically around her for a weapon, Mo found a fragment of the broken flagpole, about four feet long and six inches in circ.u.mference with the flag still attached. Mo lifted the unwieldy weapon and found it heavier than she'd expected. Although the pole was blunt at both ends, it was the best that she could do in a pinch.

"Get out of here, you bully," Mrs. Nelson called from the doorway of her house. "Stop trying to beat-up my friend, Mr. Dagger. I've called the police and they'll be here any minute."

Gigantor turned toward Mrs. Nelson with a waving gesture and a remark that sounded like, "the mall shot." Even though she didn't understand exactly what he'd said, Mo knew it was something which poo-pooed the police threat.

Ross ran at the thug, ramming him with a surprise head b.u.t.t to the gut. There was a slight "Oof" from Gigantor before he grabbed Ross around the middle, picked him up, and squeezed him like a tube of toothpaste.

Mo charged, jamming Gigantor in the lower back with the end of her pole.

"Aaargg," he cried and dropped Ross. Gigantor turned his evil eye on Mo.

She lifted the pole to club him on the head, but Gigantor caught the flag, intercepting the blow. He pulled the pole and Mo's only weapon began slipping through her grasp. She dug into the gra.s.s with her feet and straightened her legs for the maximum leverage but was pulled forward despite her struggle. As tug-of-wars went, her level of resistance didn't amount to much of a battle. Gigantor was about to have full possession of the pole.

Gigantor sneered with a wicked smile as he tugged the last bit from Mo's grasp.

"Oh pickles," Mo mumbled, hoping the tribute to gherkins wouldn't be her last words.

However, the sneer abruptly disappeared from Gigantor's face. His eyes faded to a blank, gla.s.sy-eyed stare as he sank down on his knees. Fragments of broken concrete fell like hail stones around his head.

Then she saw that Ross stood behind Gigantor, holding the remaining upper third of a bulldog statue which had adorned the Nelson lawn minutes before.

Breathless, Mo's gaze locked with Ross's. He'd saved her. As his lips curved into a smile, Mo had the sudden urge to kiss that gorgeous mouth.

Gigantor groaned. Concrete chunks flew off him in every direction as he shook his head. What did it take to finish off this meathead?

Ross sprinted around Gigantor and grasped her by the hand.

"Let's get into the house." Ross pulled her along after him as he ran. "That fellow isn't going to be down for long."

After ushering Mo and Mrs. Nelson into the house, Ross closed the front door, and then threw the bolt lock into place.

Would the flimsy wood hold if Gigantor started battering it? Mo glanced from the entry into the living room. Never mind the door. The house had plenty of floor-to-ceiling windows he could easily break.

"I have to say. I'm a little disappointed, Mr. Dagger," Mrs. Nelson remarked. "Fights are a lot different in the movies, aren't they?"

"Fight scenes in the movies are ch.o.r.eographed, Mrs. Nelson." Ross gulped in air, trying to catch his breath.

If Mo had had enough breath, she would have laughed at his exasperated expression. Was this broad crazy? Mrs. Nelson didn't seem all that concerned that a huge thug had just driven over her lawn and tried to kidnap Mo and Ross before her eyes.

"You didn't use any of those cool martial arts moves," Mrs. Nelson said to Ross as she gave a condemning shake of her head.

"I'll use those cool moves next time."

Unfortunately, the next time might be coming very soon.

Mo took a tentative peek out the window of the front room but didn't see Gigantor or his SUV.

"Thank gouda," she muttered. Mo's heart was finally returning to a more normal beat as she returned to the kitchen.

After the thug had driven away, Ross had allowed himself to be ushered into the other room by Mrs. Nelson. He now sat near the kitchen table and the lady of the house was ministering to his battle wounds, which consisted of sc.r.a.ped knuckles and a small cut at the temple.

Ross glanced up when Mo entered.

"He hasn't come back," Mo said.

"Brilliant. Regrettably we didn't get his license plate number." Ross winced slightly as Mrs. Nelson poured antiseptic on the sc.r.a.pes on his right palm. "And where are those b.l.o.o.d.y police."

"Oh, I didn't really call them," Mrs. Nelson said abashedly.

Ross grimaced when Mrs. Nelson applied antiseptic to the cut at his temple.

"I'm sorry," Mrs. Nelson said.

Ross waved the apology as unnecessary. "Probably just as well. I don't need publicity-any publicity-right now.

Ross tapped his fingers on the table in seeming impatience to be out of that chair. Ross frowned at Mo and stood.

"I'm all right," he said. "You really should apply some of that antiseptic to Ms. Tuttle's sc.r.a.ped legs. And she needs to put ice on her jaw to keep the swelling down."

Mo had already used the antiseptic on her own cuts. Nevertheless, his concern would have been sweet if he didn't have an ulterior motive. No. That thought was mean. After all, hadn't Ross run full force into combat, and risked not only his multi-million dollar face but also his life, to save her? Mo felt her chest constrict and her eyes tear.

Whoa! Don't go there, Mo. If she started thinking that way, the next thing she knew she'd be kissing the gorgeous jerk senseless and where would that get her? Setting aside the obvious answer-which was much too tempting at this point- Mo knew she had to turn these sentimental emotions around immediately. Time to make a cutting remark.

"Would you like some ice?" Mrs. Nelson asked.

"Don't mind me." Mo walked to the refrigerator. "I can get it myself." She extracted some ice from the freezer, placed it in a kitchen towel that had been lying on the counter, she applied the package to her face.

She turned back Mrs. Nelson to continue, "I'll be just fine. After all, he's the royal celebrity. We wouldn't want him to lose his looks."

Ross's jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed. He'd apparently caught her insinuation that his looks were all he had going for him and she felt a twinge of guilt.

"Look Ross, I'm sorry-"

"I suppose you also think I should have been able to knock that thug down with a few well placed karate chops interspersed with jumps that are physically impossible without the aid of cables and trick photography. Unfortunately, I'm not Stephen Dagger."

"I know-"

"But you wish I was. The famous super spy would have saved the day without breaking a sweat. Isn't that so?"

"I don't..." This argument had spiraled way out of Mo's control. Ross had read too much into her comment. Well, she'd wanted to alienate him to avoid surrendering to temptation. And she'd done a great job of it. Now Mo realized it was the last thing she really wanted. "I don't wish you were...I mean I thought you were fantastic-"