Citizen Insane - By Karen Cantwell Page 0,50

it opened just slightly, pushed from the inside. My heart started to pound the way it does on a roller coaster just before you take that long plunge down the first fall. You think surely you’re going to die and wonder what the hell you were thinking getting on the ride to begin with. I grabbed onto Bunny for support.

Just before the door opened wide enough for me to see inside, Colt appeared from around the corner of the building.

“Hi ya, Curly! Whatcha up to?”

Chapter Eighteen

NOT LONG AFTER HIS “WHATCHA up to?” Colt was grabbed by the collar and jerked into the building. At the same time, my arm was yanked tight behind my back. So tight that another millimeter of movement and it would have snapped. Shashi was playing this thing real. My arm truly hurt. Bunny yelped. I was hoping she hadn’t peed her pants.

“Move inside,” Shashi said in a low, hoarse voice that didn’t exactly resonate with her sweet Southern drawl. Suddenly I wondered if she was a double agent, playing both sides. Had she turned on me? Was her gun really loaded after all? And why the heck was Colt here? My mind was spinning out of control. Of course, who can really think when her arm is about to break and her dearest friend has a gun to his throat?

That’s right. Krystle Jennings, in all of her yearbook sabotaging glory, stood just feet before me in the large three story foyer of the Winslow Building holding a scary-big gun to Colt’s jugular. To our right was an unmanned security desk. To our left a statue likeness of Bartholomew Winslow, founder of Rustic Woods, towered high on a concrete pedestal. Straight ahead stood a large wall with glass covered-directories and doors on either side of them. A set of three elevators decorated the far left hand wall. No Roz. No Peggy. Had we been set up?

Krystle was a large woman and taller than Colt, so it was no surprise that she overwhelmed him easily. It was well known that she worked with weights at the gym, often bench pressing more than half the male members. She had very manly facial features as well which all of the make up in the world couldn’t really seem to overcome. Her obviously dyed, straight blonde hair was cut blunt just above her shoulders and the square angles of the bangs just didn’t fit the roundness of her face. She resembled Ernest Borgnine in a wig. Let’s put it this way—she was in desperate need of a makeover on the Today Show.

“Who the hell is he?” Shashi hissed. She pushed Bunny and me farther into the building and locked the door behind her. I didn’t know if it was Colt’s unexpected appearance or that she’d always been playing me like a gullible guitar. Either way, it felt like the game had changed since we stepped into the building, and I feared I was on the winning team. Like Frankie said, things happen you don’t expect.

“Don’t blame them,” Colt said calmly, even with a gun pressed to his throat. “I didn’t know about any of this, swear. I was just following her around, because she tends to get in trouble more often than not.” He smiled. “Case in point.”

Krystle gripped her gun tighter with those big man hands of hers. “We didn’t get an answer. Who are you?”

“Just a friend,” he answered. “Obviously, a very stupid friend. You can let me go now if you’d like.”

“Thanks for the support,” I said.

Shashi pointed the gun at me. “Down on the ground.” I played along and Bunny followed. We sat on the cold marble floor while I wondered whether Shashi was still on our side or not. She hadn’t taken my gun from me, which was a good sign. But then again, taking it from me would let Krystle know that we hadn’t come directly to this kidnapping extravaganza.

Krystle grunted. “Get over here and check this guy out.” Shashi didn’t seem happy over being grunted at or ordered around, but she took three steps toward Colt and felt around his middle, then down each leg.

“You’re awfully forward on a first date, aren’t you?” Colt. Always cool as a frozen cucumber.

Shashi stepped back and didn’t smile. “He’s clean.”

“I showered before I came. I always do before a good party.”

“I don’t like you,” KiKi said. “You’re not funny.” She pointed her big gun at his foot and pulled the trigger. The deafening explosion from the