Game of Fear (Montgomery Justice #3)(48)

Just as the screen went dead, a loud crash came from the back of the apartment. A man in a balaclava stood just outside her bedroom door.

The hall closet. She’d never checked it after Rick called. Fool. Her finger hit the button for 9-1-1, even though she knew no one would get here in time.

She was on her own. Like always.

Deb grabbed her gun. So be it.





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CHAPTER ELEVEN




* * *




DEB GRASPED HER gun in both hands. “On the floor, now, or your brains decorate my apartment.”

The guy didn’t even hesitate. He whipped a heavy bag at her. It slammed against her hands, the shock knocking the gun from her grip to a spot under the sofa. He had the advantage, and the guy didn’t hesitate, but charged, tugging an M1911 from his belt. No silencer.

If he’d wanted to shoot her, he would have done it, but he didn’t even aim.

Then she realized the truth. He didn’t want her dead. He wanted to escape.

Like hell, buddy. You’re going down.

He swung the bag again and it smashed into Deb’s chest. She grunted as her belongings scattered across the floor but didn’t take her gaze off him. He charged at her, the ski mask hiding all but heavy eyebrows and eyes wild with anger. She backed up to give herself some clear space, and waited.

Time seemed to slow. Deb crouched, and he kept coming. With a yell, he lunged for her. Overweight and angry, he was like an enraged bull.

And she could use his momentum against him.

She ducked and swept her leg around, smashing him in the side of one knee. A loud pop sounded. He screamed, landing hard on the floor.

His gun spun across the vinyl. Deb leapt toward the weapon. She reached out a hand, her fingertips brushing the metal grip, but he recovered too quickly and grabbed her ankles, pulling her back.

She kicked out and connected with his face. He yowled. She twisted to her back. Blood poured from his nose, but he didn’t stop. He fell on top of her, pinning her down with his weight.

“You’re gonna be sorry, bitch,” his sour breath whispered in her ear. He rose and backhanded her across the cheek. With both hands, he went for a choke hold.

Gasping for breath, she gouged his face with her fingernails, going for his eyes. When he leaned back to avoid her hands, he made himself vulnerable. She brought up her knee and rammed him hard in the crotch. With a pained groan, he curled up. She kidney-punched him in the back.

He huddled into a ball.

“Stay down, you son of a bitch,” she ordered, her breath coming hard. Her focus on him, she turned to his weapon and picked it up.

Sirens sounded from down the street.

“You called the cops?” With a quick move for his size, he kicked out and caught her wrist. He connected, stunning her nerves. She dropped the weapon. He staggered to his feet and bolted for the door.

Deb grabbed a lamp and swung at his head, then tackled him from behind, knocking him to the ground.

She ripped off his balaclava, and he fought her again like a madman. Deb grabbed his hair in her fist and pounded his head into the floor.

He grunted a time or two, then stilled.

Her door burst open. “Sheriff’s Office! Put your hands up.”

Exhausted, Deb looked up, still sitting on his hips. “Nice of you to show up, guys. He’s all yours.”

Two uniformed deputies, weapons drawn, stared at her uncertainly. She recognized them from the bar.

“This man broke in,” she said calmly and rose, her hands raised. “He stole a bunch of stuff in that bag that’s now scattered all over the floor. When I confronted him, he attacked. I took him down. His gun is over there. Mine is under the couch.

The guy moaned on the floor and turned over.

“Menken? What the hell are you doing here?” one deputy said.

Deb looked closer. Now that he wasn’t attacking her, even with a broken nose and bleeding head, she recognized him! Her robber was a cop.




The bell sounded on the swinging doors of Sammy’s Bar. Gabe’s attention whipped to the entrance.

A group of cops wandered in.

Would this be a break? He’d smiled and joked all day, trying to tease out a hint, a clue of someone who would break through Tower’s wall of corruption.

“Hoping she’ll show up?” Hawk asked, scooting past him to deliver a beer and burger.

“She won’t,” Gabe said. “She’s headed straight to the real cops to find her sister. I’m here where I should be.”

“He still mooning over her?” Zach asked Hawk, as he returned some of the menus to the stack.

“Pretending not to,” Hawk said. “Your wife and kid make it home okay?”

Zach nodded, the relief clear on his face.

“You don’t have to stay,” Gabe said. “I can handle this.”

Zach hitched onto a bar stool and met Gabe’s gaze. “I think staying here is the right thing to do. From what I’ve heard, that woman is going to need help, and you won’t be able to stay away, little brother. You care too much.”

With a frustrated grimace at his brother, Gabe grabbed some menus. Trouble was, Zach was right. He couldn’t get his mind off Deb. Was Neil taking her seriously? Had Tower cut off the investigation?