Page 16 of Deadly Pride
Liam tackled Harper to the ground. “Are you hit?”
“Have a hole in my suit jacket. I spun.”
Which likely saved her life. Liam pulled her behind a thick bush. He tossed a rock across the path, eliciting another gunshot.
Harper returned fire. “I think we found one of, if not the killer.”
“We need to get around her. Come in from the back. Follow me.” Keeping low, he led her horizontal to where the shooter hid, then turned again to where he thought they would be behind her.
“Get up nice and slow,” he said. “Drop the gun and put your hands on your head.”
She turned and raised her weapon.
Harper fired, striking the woman in the shoulder. The shooter spun like a puppet before falling to the ground.
Liam rushed forward and pinned her gun hand under his foot. When her grip loosened, he snatched the gun. “Come on, lady.” He handed the weapon to Harper and hauled the woman to her feet.
Her features remained passive despite the fact he knew she had to be in a lot of pain. He unclipped handcuffs from his belt and cuffed her hands behind her. As uncomfortable as that was, she didn't whimper. He read her rights.
“Why'd you kill the bartender?” He led her in the direction of the car.
No answer.
“Who hired you? Did you set the bomb at the club? Did Mark see you?” He rattled off questions trying to get a response. “You really should start talking. I'm not in a good mood. I haven't eaten in hours, and that makes me angry. Not to mention you shot at me and the detective.”
She grinned, showing a capsule between her teeth. She bit down and swallowed. Seconds later, she writhed on the ground.
“No.” Liam pried her mouth open, trying to get her to vomit up the poison.
Too quickly, she was dead.
~
Sarah’s tracker stopped beeping on his computer screen. Cursing, he swept everything from his desk onto the floor. She’d been the best. Now, he’d have to find someone else he could trust whose heart was as cold as the Titanic iceberg.
He pulled up a list and chose another woman, Lucy Maine. They followed orders better than a man, he’d discovered. No testosterone getting in the way. He punched in the number listed. “This is Carl Landry. You should know who I am. I have a proposition for you. If interested, be at this address in less than an hour.” He texted the address.
“I’m in Texas, but I’m definitely interested. I’ll be there by nine a.m. tomorrow.” Click.
Laughter burst from him. The woman had spunk, he’d give her that. “I’m going to enjoy taming you.” He had no doubt that she’d show. Having no idea what she looked like, he could barely contain his excitement over this new development. He’d miss Sarah, but new blood was always nice.
He turned on the television and watched as his two targets stood in the woods behind crime scene tape. Their time was coming, but Carl was in no hurry. Why cut his fun short?
Some made-up, hair-sprayed Barbie doll spoke into a microphone about a woman’s body in the woods, a shootout, and further law enforcement investigation. She went on to say the authorities had spotted a person of interest while on another crime scene and given chase.
Foolish of Sarah to have let herself be seen. Carl had thought her smarter than that. He got up and pour himself a small amount of whiskey, then returned to watching the news.
Not finding anything more of interest, he stood at his penthouse window and stared at the darkening skyline. He thought about calling for female companionship, any of his employees would come at his call, but decided to enjoy the evening alone. A few drinks, a few minutes reflecting on what Lucy would be like, sometimes a quiet evening was just what a man needed.
The detective’s voice on the television drew him back to the screen. Harper, beautiful even after time in the woods, stared into the camera.
“This is for the person responsible the killings. Two more are dead today. How many more before you’ve had enough? I challenge you to come out and face me. Stop playing childish games.” She turned, back straight, and marched to a waiting car.
“Oh, I will, my dear. And when I do, I’ll be the one walking away. You and the agent don’t know what is coming.” He turned off the television and went to bed.
The next morning, he opened the door to room service and settled at the table by the window to wait for his new hired hitwoman. He shook open a newspaper, being old fashioned enough to still enjoy holding one in his hands and sipped his coffee. So engrossed was he in the headlines, he didn’t realize someone stood next to him until they cleared their throat.
Assuming it to be the server, he waved a dismissive hand without looking up. “I’ve no further need, thank you.”