“That’s not your call to make,” Daniella said, surprising Cara and making her want to applaud at the same time.
“Shut up!” He slapped her, sending Daniella sprawling back on the seat.
Cara pulled her gun. “Step back now.” She leveled her weapon.
Daniella scrambled up once more, her terrified gaze on Cara’s gun. “Bob—”
“I’ve got this, Daniella.” Cara’s gaze never wavered from the man.
He eyed the gun, then Cara, warily.
“Look, Bob, I’ve already got you on assault. I’ve asked you to step out of my way twice now. I’m sure you don’t want to add false imprisonment of a police officer to tonight’s charges.”
Sirens broke the charged atmosphere, the sound growing increasingly louder. Bev, Cara realized, must have called the police.
Panic flickered in Bob’s eyes, and before Cara could register his intent, he grabbed Daniella by the hair and yanked her out of the booth. Cara jumped up and trained her gun on Bob, who’d wrapped one beefy arm around Daniella’s neck. Her face turned red and she grabbed at Bob’s arm, attempting to pry his grip away from her airway.
“Let her go,” Cara said calmly.
“Go to hell. She’s mine,” he said, his eyes wild.
“She’s her own person, Bob. Release her now, okay?”
From the corner of her eye, Cara realized Sam had quietly come in from the back entrance, with his partner, a rookie named Ted, alongside him. Thankfully Bob hadn’t seen them enter. No doubt he’d freak out even more once he did. But he hadn’t drawn a weapon and Cara didn’t know if he had one on him. All she could do was hope that Sam could easily take him from behind.
“Bob, if you love Daniella, you don’t want to hurt her. That puts us on the same side. Let’s end this now.” Cara imperceptibly nodded at Sam.
&nbs
p; He stepped up behind the man, jamming his gun into Bob’s side. “It’s over,” Sam said, nudging Bob with his weapon.
That quickly it was over. Without warning, the big man released Daniella and dropped to his knees, blubbering like a baby.
Cara pulled the girl away from Bob, whom Sam easily subdued.
“I’d never hurt you, Dani, you gotta know that,” Bob said as Sam cuffed his hands behind his back and proceeded to read him his Miranda rights.
Bev wrapped an arm around Daniella, comforting her as a mother would a child. Cara exhaled long and hard, pleased that this had ended so quickly and easily.
“Thanks for calling the police,” Cara said to Bev. “That was a smart move.”
Bev, a gray-haired, stout woman, merely shrugged. “Seemed like common sense. He shows up here every day at different times, watching Daniella, making threats. I’ve seen his type before.” She frowned and patted Daniella’s back.
“I’m sorry,” Daniella murmured.
Cara shook her head and smiled. “No apologizing for someone else’s behavior, remember?”
Daniella nodded.
“I’m going to need you both to come down to the station and give your statement. Will you press charges? And file for a restraining order?” Cara asked Daniella. “I’ll be right there with you.”
Daniella nodded.
Cara was under no illusion that this arrest or an order of protection would end Bob’s abuse, but it would document it and maybe act as some sort of deterrent.
“I’m proud of you,” Cara told Daniella, squeezing her hand.
“I need to call my son—he’s the owner. He’ll come in so I can come down to the station,” Bev said.