Strong, Sleek and Sinful - By Lorie O'Clare Page 0,163
the last thing that fucking cop prick of yours will hear are your screams as I torture you until you die. He can live with those memories while he rots in prison for the murders of all those girls.”
“You’re going to do that in a car wash?” Kylie asked. “That convenience store will have witnesses all over the place. And I bet the drive-through at McDonald’s across the street will offer at least one or two people who will see you, too. And why would Perry go to prison?”
Kylie screamed at the same time that the sound of flesh hitting flesh made Perry’s blood boil.
“McDonald’s,” Carl yelled. “We’re going the wrong way. McDonald’s is in the other direction.”
Perry pulled a U-turn in the middle of the street, forcing a couple cars to a screeching stop, and turned on his lights while gunning it. He hauled ass down the street, yelling at Carl to call Dispatch.
“Whatever it takes!” Perry demanded. “Get backup on the scene now. Tell them whatever you have to tell them.”
Carl didn’t argue or ask for advice on what to say but fumbled with his phone while the digital camera fell to the ground at his feet.
Perry focused on the golden arches when they appeared ahead of him and Carl. He saw the convenience store Kylie had mentioned and then spotted the car wash. There weren’t any sounds coming through the phone anymore, which made Perry’s blood curdle. He didn’t want to think about what John might have done to her to make her quiet.
Perry squealed to a stop in front of the car wash, slamming the car into park before it had fully stopped. He spotted the Suburban and the open driver’s-side and passenger door didn’t look good at all. His heart swelled into his throat and he trembled when he grabbed his gun, pulling it free as he climbed out and headed around his squad car.
“Cover me,” he yelled to Carl, and held his gun out, aiming it toward the ground, while he searched for Kylie. “Athey, where the fuck are you?” he yelled.
“Perry!” Kylie howled, her high pitch sounding full of fear and panic.
At least she was alive.
Perry ran through the stall, looking both ways on the other side of the car wash, until he spotted them at the edge of the lot.
“Stay right there,” John ordered, gripping Kylie against his chest while walking backward, the gun in his hand pointed at Kylie’s head.
Her hair was messed up and her expression looked panicked, but otherwise she didn’t look hurt.
“Are you okay?” Perry asked her, an overwhelming sense of calm hitting him. Something told him John wouldn’t kill her. It would be murder one, and there wouldn’t be any way out of it. Perry was convinced the man was too much of a survivor for that.
“I’m fine,” she said, also sounding too calm.
“Get back in your car,” John ordered, taking the gun from Kylie’s head and pointing it at Perry.
“It’s over,” Perry told him. “Franco is under arrest. The FBI has been contacted.”
As if to back Perry, sirens approached, growing louder by the second.
“Backup is here. Put down the gun.”
“Like hell.” John pushed Kylie forward, causing her to trip and fall to the ground.
Perry lunged for her just as the shot rang through the air.
Chapter 27
Three months later
Kylie’s eyes burned, and she wondered for the third or fourth time since leaving Dallas if she had any sense in her head to start the trip to Kansas City this late at night. It was an eight-hour drive and it was damn near three o’clock in the morning. She wasn’t even sure there was a reason to rush back there.
Her leg cramped, the bullet wound she’d taken while in Nicaragua pretty well healed but still giving her grief from time to time. The humid night air, with summer kicking in hard and fast, seemed to make her leg act up. She didn’t mind the injury, other than it had hurt like fucking hell getting shot, since her return shot took out the leader of the cartel they were after. Her orders had been to bring him in alive, but arresting and escorting the cartel leaders’ number one in command had satisfied Susie, and Kylie’s government. She was awarded a two-month respite once she checked out of the hospital in Dallas, for her efforts and a job well done.
Kylie passed another mile marker and squinted when her brights reflected against the road sign ahead. Five miles to Mission Hills.