the toe of his shoe squeaked. “It’s so slick! The blood’s gonna run everywhere. It’ll be the scene with the bloody elevators from The Shining in reverse.”
“What a slippery mess we’ll make,” Annette promised. “I plan to thrash around as much as I can for maximum grossness as I exsanguinate.”
Maximum grossness! Finally, a title for my autobiography.
“Nobody’s dying.” This from one of the two men who had come out of the elevator behind Gulo. The one who spoke, a muscular redhead of medium height, was dressed in jeans and a black turtleneck, which was kind of funny. Why is that funny? Is it the gun? Gun + turtleneck = weird? “Wait, I’ll clarify. Nobody’s dying in this storage space,” he added, making a shooing motion with his gun. “Time for a ride, you three.”
Gulo nearly sagged in relief. Oz was torn; on one hand, he was thrilled that they were (hopefully) taking them to whatever bullshit was going on in Shakopee. On the other, he loved the idea of desecrating Gulo’s sterile space with any number of bodily fluids.
“And y’think we’re going with you why?” Berne asked mildly.
“Besides saving Gulo’s obsessively waxed floor?” Annette asked.
Turtleneck McPistol waved his gun again. “Do you know what this is?”
“A really off-putting turtleneck?” Oz squinted. “An off-putting navy-blue turtleneck?”
“It’s a 9mm pistol, wiseass. Fifteen bullets to a clip, one for the chamber, and if I empty it into your brainpan, your weekend will be fucked.”
“That would put a crimp in date night tomorrow,” Annette admitted.
“All three of you are coming with us right now. If any one of you resists, I’ll murder your sister.”
“Foster sister,” Annette corrected.
“Colleague, really. And not even my favorite colleague.” Oz shrugged. “Sorry, Annette.”
“But I’m ahead of Nadia, at least. Right, Oz?”
Oz didn’t need the reminder but appreciated it anyway. “You’re two slots ahead of Nadia.”
“Oh, thank God. Wait. Two? Who’s—”
Oz raised his voice. “Our point, boys, is that there’s no blood tie.”
Turtleneck’s rebuttal was to fire his gun a couple of inches from Annette’s left foot. The bullet plowed into the cement floor and didn’t ricochet, thank God.
“Hey!” Annette snapped. “You’re making a terrible impression. Just be aware!”
“Do you get it now?” Turtleneck said, attempting a Tough Guy expression but coming off as Constipated Guy, while beside him, Gulo gasped and dropped to his knees to inspect the gouge the bullet made. “Do you?”
“Big sound,” Berne said. “Go bang. Which you’re proud of for some reason. Yes. We get it.” Then he shrugged and turned to face the third man, the one who was keeping his ears open and his mouth closed. “Have we met? I’ve the nagging feeling I’ve seen ye before.”
When there was no response, Oz stepped forward. “You want us to come with, we’ll come with. Look, I’m cooperating. I’m gonna cooperate all over you guys.” Oz started for the door, sidestepping Gulo, who was still examining the hole.
“It’s okay. It’s fine. I can fix this. Won’t take long to fill. And then I can paint it over. Nine or ten coats ought to do it.” He shot to his feet, and Oz was completely unprepared for the hard shove. “Keep to yourself,” Gulo snapped. “You stink like a Stable.”
“Hey, thanks!” He and Lila could never be, but it was kind of cool that some of her scent was on him. Yet another benefit of sleeping on her couch. “Oh. You prob’ly thought that was an insult.”
“You piece of shit,” Annette said in a low voice. She didn’t normally swear, so…whoa. “Don’t touch him again.”
Oz flipped to his feet. “Don’t make her angry. You wouldn’t like her when she’s angry. I’m fine, Annette, don’t sweat it. So are we going? We should be going.”11
“It’s not going to work out for you,” Gulo said. “I’m sure you morons think you have a plan, or that you’re pretending to cooperate because you’re expecting a nick-of-time rescue, but it won’t happen.”
“So, then.” Annette shrugged. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“Phones.” This from the third man, who been watching like it was the best tennis game ever. He had gray-flecked brown hair in the de rigueur villain buzz cut. And either he and the redhead shopped at the same store or got the same memo, because he was wearing jeans and a turtleneck, too.
Wait… That’s a mock turtleneck. Which is slightly less silly. Why? Why is it less silly than the full-on turtleneck? I don’t know, it just is.
“Phones out! Right now,” Mock Turtleneck ordered. “Take them out and drop