“Lucky me,” the figure said.
Paxton gripped his sword tighter.
“Don’t give it up,” Ruth hissed.
“Wasn’t planning on it,” Paxton responded.
The perp dug the barrel into her skin. “I’ll shoot her.”
Paxton shrugged. “Go ahead.”
That didn’t seem to impress the perp, though. “Don’t bother trying to pretend you don’t care about her.”
“Really?” Paxton said. “Because clearly you targeted me. Snatching that purse right in front of my coffee shop. So you’ve got to know exactly how little I care for anything.”
“She’s your partner,” the perp insisted, keeping a tight hold of Ruth’s arm. Between the vice-like grip and the gun to her temple, she couldn’t really move. And even if she wanted to, where would she go before a bullet took out her forehead?
Paxton tilted his head. “Technically, we haven’t even clocked in yet. She isn’t my partner until the time clock says so. I’m off the hook for this one.”
The perp backed them up a few steps, never letting the muzzle of the gun stray from Ruth’s skin. He indicated to the floor.
“Do you want her to end up like that girl?” Ruth’s eyes slid as far over as they could. At the edge of her vision she could make out a pair of tennis shoes, covered in blood. Another victim? “Do you?”
“Do you have any idea how many partners I’ve had in the last five years?” Paxton asked, taking a step forward. “And how many are still alive?”
Ever so slightly, the perp loosened his grip on Ruth’s arm. The gun was still flush with her temple, but had Paxton just buy her a little wiggle room?
“Dude,” Paxton said, taking another step forward. “You picked me because I was low-hanging fruit. You could have picked someone from SWAT. You could have picked someone from Major Case. But you picked me. So let’s roll this forward. You kill her. I kill you. I’m a freaking hero and never have to work hard again.”
“Don’t push me,” the perp said. “I’ve killed before.”
“Oh, yeah, right,” Paxton sighed. “Killing a teenage girl? Seriously? Teenage girls fall off their scooters and die. And I bet we’ll find out she was a party girl. Risk taker. Daddy issues. Again. Low-hanging fruit.”
The perp stumbled a step. Guess he wasn’t expecting Paxton to be so…dispassionate. Her partner was just faking it, though, right? Even Ruth was beginning to wonder.
“Could we please get this over with?” Paxton asked. “Because, to be perfectly honest, my arm is getting tired.”
The gun’s muzzle dug into Ruth’s skin. Maybe completely insulting the perp wasn’t the best way to go. If he pulled the trigger there would be no dodging it. Paxton took another step forward, forcing them back a step.
“Your problem?” Paxton asked the perp. “You are afraid to die. Me? My coping skills involve downing a bottle Jack Daniels because my sister has become an alcoholic after the death of her husband. Let’s just say my psych evals came back inconclusive regarding suicidal tendencies.”
The perp did, in fact, seem to very much want to live. Otherwise he would have just shot her by now. But how the hell was Paxton going to get him to let her go? This truly did seem like an impossible standoff. One which led to her death.
“You know what? I’m done,” Paxton stated, then lifted the sword over his head.
Ruth squinted her eyes as she said a prayer under her breath for her son.
Would Paxton attacking the perp be her last sight?
Only her partner didn’t attack the perp— instead he stabbed the body on the floor in the leg. Only that wasn’t a body either. It was a girl, very much alive. She screamed, clutching at her leg, cursing at Paxton. So, not just a girl, but the accomplice.
Her partner grabbed a handful of hair and jerked the girl to her feet, his sword pointed at her belly. “So now what are we going to do?”
* * *
Seriously, Paxton really wanted to know. He’d faked his way through the last few moments, trying to get into position to grab the girl. Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how you looked at it, his life was fodder for the bluff.
The odds that the girl on the floor was actually an accomplice rather than a victim were pretty high. Unlike the other poor chick in the razor wire, this girl was just slumped to the floor. She also smelled sweet. Like colored corn syrup. He’d helped his niece and nephew enough times with vampire costumes, thanks Stephenie Meyer by the way, to know fake blood when he smelled it.
Besides, if the girl had been dead, what harm would a little stab wound to the calf do? Of course, if girl had really been dead, his stunt would have made sure that Ruth was, too, but Paxton preferred not to think about that. His hangover really was kicking his ass. His brain only had so much room, and he had to figure out how to end this mess.
Paxton really wished he could see the perp’s eyes. That damn hood hung so far over the guy’s face that all Paxton could make out was stubble on the perp’s chin.
“Don’t make me hurt her,” Paxton challenged. He had guided them back enough that they were now directly under another manhole cover. Hopefully this one wasn’t jammed up. If Paxton could just get Ruth away…
“Go ahead,” the perp said, sounding pretty damned deadpan.
His body language changed, as well. Paxton had the perp on the defensive a moment ago. Now, though? The perp was no longer backing away. He broadened his stance. His shoulders were straight and not hunched over.
This was not good.
“I was planning on killing her anyway.”
That wasn’t a bluff. You couldn’t hollow out your tone like that. Believe him, Paxton had tried.
“You bastard!” the girl in his grasp screamed. “You said you loved me!”
Get used to it, kid, Paxton wanted to say, but he didn’t bother. He had a more important issue. With his sword aimed at the girl, the perp now had the advantage. The creep really could kill Ruth, then shoot Paxton before he could get his sword around.
Ruth was doomed. He was doomed. So much for winging a genius escape plan with a killer headache.
Ruth must have gotten the picture, as she elbowed the perp, wrenching herself from his grasp. The gun went off, missing wildly, but the ricochet almost took Paxton out. He shoved the girl toward the exit as the perp aimed at Ruth. With both hands on the hilt, Paxton took a swing, releasing the sword. The blade flew through the air, nailing the perp in the stomach.
Good thing Paxton lettered in shot put as well.
One hand clutching the sword, the perp still raised his gun to fire. Paxton couldn’t get to his gun. Ruth was still trying to find her feet.
A shot went off, but not from the guy. From the girl.
“Payback is a bitch…named Ashley!” the girl screamed as the perp doubled over.
Ruth tackled the girl, wrestling the gun from Ashley as Paxton rushed to the fallen perp. He kicked the guy’s gun away as he drew his own. Gurgling sounds filled the tunnel. And you know what? Paxton didn’t feel a bit sorry for him.
“Where the hell are their parents?” Ruth asked as she dragged the girl over.
Paxton didn’t bother to answer his new partner. The parents were seldom around these days. Instead, he reached out and pushed the perp’s hoodie back.
To his shock, and Paxton had really thought himself beyond shock, it was not a teenager’s face. The stubble had flecks of gray, and his eyes were etched in deep crow’s–feet. That was a forty-something face staring back at them.
The girl spat at the perp. “His parents are in a nursing home. Loser.”
“What the hell?” Paxton breathed out.
It should have been a kid. A disenfranchised teen with delusions of grandeur and a deep-seated feeling of persecution. He should have been the victim of bullying and the product of a society completely desensitized to violence. Instead, they were looking down at someone who could have been his insurance agent.
“Why?” Ruth asked.
/> The perp answered to Paxton. “My life was just passing by. I was no one”—he coughed up blood—”doing nothing. Having no one.”
“Um,” Paxton replied honestly. “That’s my life every day, but I don’t go around killing people.”
Choking on blood, the perp chuckled. “Not yet, at least.” Then the guy’s eyes became unfocused as his head lolled to the side.
Sirens sounded from above as the manhole cover opened.
“Everyone okay down there?” a police officer asked.
Paxton leaned back against the wall, blowing out air that had gone stale in his lungs. “As well as can be expected.” He probably should be trying to do CPR or something, but he just couldn’t find the strength.
“Let me go!” the girl exclaimed, trying to free herself from Ruth’s grip.
“Not a chance,” his partner said with a tone that confirmed that she was, in fact, the mother of a teenager.
Ashley huffed. “What? I’m not only a victim here, but I saved you both.” The girl pointed to Paxton. “And he stabbed me in the leg.”
That he did.
“You helped kill that other girl,” Ruth’s tone held no sympathy.
“Prove it,” Ashley said.
Paxton walked over, staring the girl in the eye. “Oh, we will.” Bright blue eyes stared out from under darkly-mascaraed lids, scanning his face, trying to see how serious he was.
Ashley’s lips turned up in a grin. “You don’t have it in you to see this through.”
“So true,” Paxton said as he leaned against the wall again. “But her?” he said, indicating to his partner. “She’s a real go-getter.”
The girl looked up at Ruth’s face and apparently did not like what she saw. “I want to call my daddy.”
“You do that,” Paxton said, as police and EMTs hurried down the metal steps to their brand spanking new crime scene.
They brought guns, forensic kits, and a stretcher, but all Paxton really needed was an aspirin. No, as his head pounded, make that a bottle of aspirin.
As the officers took Ashley off their hands, Ruth leaned against the wall. “Quite the first day,” she said. “Can’t imagine what comes next.”
“Yeah, let’s just hope that’s the last weird one,” Paxton replied, meaning every word.
EPILOGUE
Ruth drove the speed limit as Paxton sat, sullen, next to her. They both wore borrowed clothes, since theirs had been taken as evidence by the CSIs. And the sun, which she had seen rise, was now setting in the west.
Saying that it had been a long day did not do justice to the experience of getting checked out at the hospital, booking Ashley, and doing that mountain of paperwork. They were both wiped out.
Neither had the energy to go back to the crime scene and pick up their cars. Instead, it just seemed so much easier to use a borrowed, unmarked vehicle.
“Do you mind if I run a quick errand?” Ruth asked.
Paxton grunted in reply. For having won the day, her new partner certainly didn’t seem to be very happy about it. She had an inkling as to why. He’d said, down in that tunnel when their lives were on the line, far more than she think he realized. Clearly he’d played it off in front of the other officers as just another gambit to trick the perps, but she’d been there. She could smell the whiskey on his breath.
He hadn’t been exaggerating in the tunnel. Not one bit.
“You did as well as any SWAT member could have back there.”
Paxton’s eyes slid over to her. “Really? Using ball bearings to roll to safety?”
“That’s what I mean, Paxton,” she said. “You thought out of the box and used your environment to your—our advantage. That was great work.”
Her partner closed his eyes and lay back against the head rest. “Just FYI, I’m allergic to pity.”
Ruth was going to argue, but they had arrived at her destination. “I’ll just be a few moments. I have to pick up Evan from a friend’s.”
“Wait,” Paxton said, putting his palm on the handle. “This is my sister’s house.”
“Your nephew is Jeremy Knight?”
“Yeah,” he said. “How the…”
Ruth opened her car door. “They met at computer camp.”
“Jeremy went to computer camp?” Paxton said as he got out of the car. “I mean…I haven’t talked to him in, well, a while.”
That much was clear as they walked up the porch steps to the door. Ruth knocked. No answer. Paxton leaned down and tipped over a potted plant that had long since died. He brought back a key, and unlocked the door. The sounds of a fight carried through the house.
Ruth pulled her gun. No, not here, was all she could think. But, coming around the corner, they found the two boys fighting, only in a video game.
“How many times have I told you not to play video games with realistic violence?”
“Whoa, mom!” Evan shouted, practically tossing his controller in the air. “I swear, never again!”
“We give up!” the other teen said, his eyes dilated in fear. She could only assume that was her partner’s nephew, Jeremy.
“Yeah, you might want to holster your weapon, officer,” Paxton suggested.
Okay, so now she could see how it looked. “I’m not mad, Evan,” Ruth explained as she put her gun away. “Just disappointed.”
* * *
“What she said,” Paxton added, looking around at the messy front room. “Where’s your mom?”
Jeremy frowned. “Where do you think?”
The empty beer bottles on the kitchen sink pretty much told the story. Paxton could probably guess Susan was passed out in her bedroom.
“And your sister?” Paxton asked.
“Please,” the teen said, throwing himself back against the couch. “She could be having fun, so guess what? She’s studying instead.”
Ah, these family visits always went so well. Paxton really didn’t think that his head could throb much harder. Ruth gathered up her son, urging him toward the door like Jeremy was a bad influence or something. Okay, the angry teen probably was, but still, he was his nephew. Blood.
“We’d best be going,” Ruth said.
Paxton paused. “Jeremy, you doing okay?”
“Yeah, great, just great.”
God, Paxton just wanted to go home and sleep the day off. Still, he turned to Ruth. “I think I might stay a while.”
She nodded. “See you tomorrow, then.”
Paxton almost instantly regretted letting his ride walk out the door. What the hell? Were Jeremy and he going to have some kind of heart to heart to fix the fact his brother-in-law was dead?
No, but he might help Jeremy out in another way.
Plopping down on the couch, Paxton held out his hand. “Controller?”
Looking very confused, Jeremy handed over the object. “You’re not mad?”
“Mad?” Paxton snorted. “The way the world is out there? You need to work on your right hook, that’s what you need to do.”
As the game started up, Paxton thought of one other little piece of wisdom to impart to his nephew. “And never trust girls named Ashley. Trust me on that one. Never.”
Want more Paxton and Ruth? Check out All Hallow’s Eve in the Down & Dirty Collection here.
DEVIOUS – The prequel short story to the Darc Murder Mysteries (9th Circle)
PROLOGUE
The sun had set long, long ago.
The streets of Seattle became a very different place when it was dark. Let’s be honest, even during the day, things had a tendency to be a bit bleak in the Pacific Northwest. But after dark, things got downright creepy.
A light drizzle, nothing more than a clear late summer night for anyone who had grown up here, weighed down Abby’s bleach-blonde hair. She had not grown up here. For her, this much precipitation was the rough equivalent of a downpour. Phoenix, Arizona wasn’t known for its abundant annual rainfall.
How she had ended up here she knew very well, but couldn’t believe to this day. A
guy. It was always a guy, wasn’t it? A boy and his band, wanting to test the waters in a bigger city, but without the balls to head to Vegas or L.A. She should’ve known then.
Now, a year and a half later, the band had broken up, and the boyfriend had headed out somewhere for parts unknown. And Abby? Abby was stuck in a lease with a job that paid just well enough that she didn’t want to leave it, but not well enough for her to ever really get ahead.
Tonight was the first night she had gone out on her own since the breakup three months ago. She’d grabbed a couple of the girls from work and jetted down to the Foundation Nightclub, a local hotspot just a couple of blocks away from Pike Place Market.
It was a little touristy, sure, but Abby was still new enough to Seattle that being a tourist was okay by her. The drinks were expensive, but she didn’t normally have to worry too much about that. And the guys there were a bit more upscale than her grungy ex.
But after both of her friends had gotten picked up and it had started getting late, Abby had decided to head home. Drinking alone in a bar just felt way too pathetic.
The problem with that? Abby couldn’t remember where she had parked. Maybe that last cosmopolitan had been a bad idea. She would’ve hailed a cab and come back for her VW bug tomorrow, but in looking for the parking lot where she’d left it, she’d entered into some much narrower streets that were pretty quiet, even for this area. There wasn’t a cab anywhere in sight.
She pulled off her heels, feeling the wet cool of the sidewalk soothe her aching feet. Going out on a Friday after work always sounded like such a great idea, but man, was she beat. Next time she planned an outing with the girls, it would be on a Saturday. And the girls would be ones who wouldn’t abandon her at the first sign of a smile from a cute guy.
Whatever. She was over it.
Now that the clatter of her own heels wasn’t ringing in her ears, Abby could’ve sworn she heard something. She stopped for a moment, but whatever it was had dissipated into the surrounding mist.
How many times had she thought she was being followed late at night, only to realize it was her over-active imagination? Abby chuckled to herself and started walking again. Time to fish her phone out of the bag she called her purse and figure out where the hell she was.
Got Thrills? A Boxed Set (A McCray Collection) Page 15