2nd Cycle of the Harbinger Series: The continuation of the #1 Hard-boiled/Police Procedural smash Plain Jane

Author:McCray, Carolyn [McCray, Carolyn]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: Patterson sytle thriller
Published: 2014-09-28T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 10

Nicole fumed. Literally, she could feel the steam coming out of her ears as they waited for someone to get the warden. Apparently the man was at the gym for an early morning workout before the day.

She was about to go haul him out herself, but finally the call came that he was in the office, sweaty, but ready to see them.

They were rapidly escorted through the hallway to the warden’s office.

Nicole burst into the room. He’d clearly gotten the word on exactly how pissed off she was because his hands were up.

“We are working on finding him.”

“Finding him?” Nicole growled. “Finding him?”

The man wouldn’t meet her gaze. “Some guards took him from his cell on an unauthorized walk.”

“You mean to get a tune up or worse?” Nicole demanded. Funny how Ruben was staying quiet.

“Yes,” the warden said with a sigh, sitting behind his desk. “They know the gaps in coverage. We lost sight of them once out of the protective custody ward.”

Nicole spun on her heel, turning her agitation on her partner. “Well? You better fess up now, or I swear…”

“She doesn’t know?” the warden asked, seeming truly surprised.

“No,” Ruben answered.

“Know what?” Nicole hissed at Ruben.

He sighed.

“I didn’t really press charges,” Ruben explained. “Kent set this all up so that he could bunk up with the serial killer Martin Goodling. Kent believes that Martin is the Debbie Downer ringleader.”

Nicole took a step back. “What?”

Once again her husband tortured her for no good reason. Okay, maybe there was a good reason, like catching a vicious serial killer cult, but still. Couldn’t he tell her just once when he was going to pull a stunt like this?

Oh, those guards better not kill Kent. She wanted the pleasure of doing it herself.

* * *

Kent grabbed a towel off the clean stack and wrapped it around his arm, just in time, as he fended off another charge by a guard. He danced out of the way, throwing an elbow.

Ah, the crack of bone. Such a satisfying sound. Another broken nose. After that initial attack, where they didn’t get Kent down, he’d convinced the guards they might take a more cautious tact. They were used to beat downs, not an actual fight.

Due to their greater number, they thought they could simply wait him out. They didn’t know Kent got better with age.

Pretending to retreat, Kent angled back toward a dryer. A guard charged, head down like a bull. Or maybe more like a calf. Kent opened the dryer door and allowed the man to run full speed into the glass door.

Kent couldn’t help but chuckle. The guard stumbled back, twirling around, clearly disoriented. Kent could swear there were stars dancing around the man’s head.

Another guard looked to take advantage of Kent’s distraction, only he wasn’t distracted. Kent never felt more alive than in a fight to the death.

Nightstick up and ready to come down on Kent’s head, the guard pushed forward. Skipping out of the way, Kent jumped onto one of the folding tables.

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