Wedding Takedown. Geri Krotow

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СКАЧАТЬ the newest Silver Valley residents, who were trying to set up a cult on the outskirts of town. Rio didn’t believe in coincidences, not when it came to criminal behavior.

      “What’s your ETA, Rio?” The dispatcher spoke in his ear.

      “Two minutes, tops. Anything new?”

      “Caller isn’t talking. She’s kept the line open and we’re hearing shouts.”

      Mother of God, please let her be okay. Keep Kayla safe.

      The first time he’d seen her she was delivering a bunch of flowers to the station for one of the female cops. He couldn’t remember a thing about the delivery except for Kayla’s huge blue eyes and golden blond hair. And the way her black tights had displayed her long legs and perfect full ass. He’d imagined the breasts hidden by her jean jacket as full and luscious, and he hadn’t been disappointed when they’d made love on the one occasion he’d ignored his personal credo to remain unencumbered. He’d stopped by her flower shop and asked her out. And taken her to his bed, in his torn-apart home on the edges of town.

      He’d since finished the renovations on the house, one a Realtor friend of his had stumbled upon three years ago. It was perfect for a flipper but after pouring his sweat and blood into the hardwood floors, he’d decided to keep the single-story rambler on the edge of one of Silver Valley’s farm fields.

      He’d imagined taking Kayla there after he’d finished it, when the dust had settled and it was a proper home. He wanted to show her he wasn’t a complete jerk who dated women only for sex. That he wasn’t going to be the guy who loved her and left her. Because it hadn’t been “only” sex with Kayla. But she’d been long gone and they’d been long over before he ever had the chance to bring her home again.

      Kayla.

      The lack of information from the dispatcher annoyed him.

      “Anything new?”

      “Nothing, Rio.”

      “Has she tried to text anything?”

      “No, we told her to sit tight and stay quiet until responders arrive.”

      “How close are the other units?”

      “Patrol two-three-three is five minutes out.”

      “Where the hell were they?” At this rate none of them would be there in enough time to save anyone.

      The taste of bile rose in the back of his throat and he cursed.

      “What’s that, Rio?”

      “Nothing.”

      He had to keep it together. Nothing had ever distracted him from his life’s purpose: serving the public. He’d known he wanted to be a police officer since he was eight years old, when his uncle Jimmy had given him a tour of the station in Harrisburg and he’d fallen in love with the way the police department employees had laughed and joked with each other as though the job was nothing but fun.

      Only later, as a rookie, had he learned why they really joked with each other. It was to alleviate the deep sense of duty that sometimes weighed unbearably heavy because of the brutal realities of their jobs. The violence, the senseless killings. The gore.

      Not Kayla. Not on his watch.

      * * *

      The phone lay muted on top of the hale bay next to her, the screen turned off to prevent anyone from seeing her. Some reptilian part of her brain shouted at Kayla to slither under the bales and simply hide until the police arrived.

      Where was Keith when she needed his savvy?

      She prayed that she could somehow channel her brother’s firefighting survival instinct. Because things weren’t getting any quieter inside the barn and she needed some kind of crime-scene smarts.

      Rio would be the best help here.

      She gave herself a quick, silent shake in the darkness. This wasn’t the time to revisit that hurt.

      Stay alive.

      Kayla knew better than to go inside and try to help whoever was struggling with the owner of the low voice. From what she could gather it was one man and one woman and they weren’t talking about anything pleasant.

      But the woman’s voice had gotten quieter since the gunshot. Maybe the shot hadn’t been intended to hurt anyone, and this was some kind of crazy domestic argument. Kayla heard the woman’s humming voice as she spoke to the angry man. The man’s voice conveyed a fury that had Kayla quaking.

      Kayla wondered if she was crazy. Maybe it wasn’t a gunshot she’d heard, but something else, maybe a piece of furniture overturning.

      She rested against the barn wall, behind the stacked bales. It was wet and cold and smelled of alfalfa. The one plant on the entire planet that Kayla was allergic to. She wasn’t worried about her watery eyes or itchy nose, though. Not yet.

      First, she needed to survive whatever was going on, and hoped it wasn’t anything more than her overactive imagination.

      The door shook as a heavy object hit it, followed by the creak of the hinges and a loud slamming. Kayla moved slowly, needing to see what was happening. As she peered between two bales, she made out the open door. It was a yawning black hole, indicating the lights had been turned off.

      Shuffling, a grunt or two, crying. Soft, pain-filled crying.

      “Help me, someone.” The low, raspy plea reached her ears and it felt as though Kayla was as injured as the woman. If there was any way she could help her...

      Kayla stood up from her crouch and looked over the stack of bales. A prone figure lay in the walkway, a woman. The harsh glare of the overhead security lights illuminated dark hair and a business outfit—skirt and jacket. On her stomach, she leaned on her forearms as if she was in a yoga sphinx pose. Kayla immediately recognized her. Scanning the entire area as much as it was feasible while behind the bales, she didn’t see anyone else. The man must have left.

      “Meredith!” she whispered as loudly as possible.

      “Help. Me.”

      Kayla rose to do just that when a shot rang through the night, and Meredith’s head slammed into the ground.

      Oh no.

      Kayla pressed against the hay, her heartbeat and the ringing from the gunshot loud in her ears. She didn’t know if she was hidden from the killer or if she needed to make a run for it.

      She’d never outrun a bullet.

      The sound of approaching footsteps was quickly followed by the sound of something scraping and a grunt. A loud thwack as an object hit the ground. Peering through the hay bale, she could only see Meredith’s hands, still as her head lay between them, a briefcase with file folders splayed in front of her where a dark spot grew into a larger circle. Blood. She wished the side light of the barn door wasn’t so bright—the image of Meredith bleeding out would be burned into Kayla’s mind.

      Someone cleared his or her throat. She heard the distinct sound of a zipper and СКАЧАТЬ