Gated Prey (Eve Ronin #3)(24)

“Why not? What else do you have to do?”

“You just saw the news,” Eve said, gesturing to her TV, even though it was off and she was the only one in the room. “I have that to do.”

“You want to close your case fast? Use your undercover wardrobe and the boob tape. You’ll thank me later. Sweet dreams, honeybunch.”

Jen hung up and Eve thought her head might explode.



Eve took a scorching-hot shower to loosen her muscles, dried herself off, put on her bathrobe, then got on the bed again and opened her laptop. She checked her emails and found links to download all the video footage she’d asked for that day from both the supermarket and the Vista Grande guard gate.

She started by watching the video from the supermarket again, from the moment that Paul Colter burst in, holding the gun, and headed for the liquor aisle. Panicked customers and employees fled or took cover behind checkout counters or food displays. Grayson Mumford headed straight for Colter, ducking into an aisle at the last moment to avoid being seen by the gunman, who was only a few feet away.

Eve saw and heard Colter demand that she show herself, and when she did, he turned to her, his gun not quite raised but not quite loose at his side, either. Grayson stepped out of hiding and shot him. It was a brave thing for Grayson to do, she had to give him that.

Her iPhone rang again. She checked the caller ID. It was her agent, Linwood Taggert. She ignored it and he gave up after a few rings. Then the phone started to ring again, but this time it was her brother, Kenny, who was five years younger than her. She debated not answering but then remembered the hell she got from her family for not returning their calls for days after her last violent, widely reported incident on the job.

“Hey,” Eve said.

“I saw you on the news. I love the new look.”

“Have you been talking to Mom?”

“No,” he said. “But she came by yesterday and gave Rachel and Cassie each a roll of boob tape.”

“Cassidy is five.”

“It’s for playing dress-up. Mom says it’s never too early for a girl to embrace her feminine power.”

“And what was Rachel’s reaction?” Eve said. Rachel was his wife. They’d met as students at Cal State, Northridge. She got pregnant, so they dropped out, got married, and he started what became a fairly successful pool-cleaning business.

“She says she might use the tape if we ever go to a restaurant again that doesn’t have a drive-through window.”

Eve laughed. That was Kenny, always upbeat. Maybe taking calls from her family was a healthy thing to do after a rough experience.

Kenny said, “It’s good to hear you laugh. I guess that means you’re okay.”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” There was a beep on the line. Eve looked at her phone and saw she had an incoming call from Lisa. She put the phone back to her ear. “Lisa is calling. Thanks for the call. Give my love to Rachel and Cassie.”

“I will.”

Eve clicked off on him and answered Lisa’s call. Her sister was three years younger than her and an ER nurse at West Hills Hospital, just a few miles north of Calabasas.

“You’re up late,” Eve said. “Or are you working?”

“I’m off. I just saw the news online about the shooting. How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine. I wasn’t hurt at all.”

“The article says you’d be dead if it wasn’t for that security guard. I’d like to give him a big hug. I hope you did.”

“I’m not a hugger,” she said, then remembered that she’d hugged Duncan that night, but she told herself that it was just an aberration, a one-off reaction to nearly losing him, because it embarrassed her. “Besides, he didn’t exactly save my life.”

“He shot the guy before he could shoot you, didn’t he?”

“Yes, but I could’ve handled it.”

“You’re always so sure of yourself,” Lisa said, like confidence was a bad thing. Eve was proud of it. “Have you ever had to shoot anyone?”

“Not yet.”

“But that poor security guard did. That deserves a hug. You deserve one, too. Want me to come over? I’ll bring ice cream.”

If Eve had ice cream every time she felt some stress, she was sure that she’d be morbidly obese in a month, but it did explain Lisa’s persistent pudginess. “That sounds nice, but I’m fine, really.”

“You could have been killed.”

“That’s part of my job,” Eve said. “Like getting puked and bled on is part of yours.”

“You saw some men die in front of you today.”

“It’s not the first time.” She thought of the two heads she’d seen explode as they were pierced by bullets and suddenly she could smell the fresh, wet brain matter as if it were on the wall, like it had been in her condo, or in the aisle at the supermarket.

It’s just your imagination.

“Have you talked to anybody about it?” Lisa asked.

“I’m talking to you right now.” And it wasn’t helping. In fact, she was sure that it was making things worse, even though her sister meant well. Eve didn’t dwell on her pain, she worked through it until it was gone.

“I mean really talked.”