Granny Strikes Back by Harper Lin

Author:Harper Lin [Lin, Harper]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harper Lin Books

Nine

A moment later my would-be assassin entered the casino. Like the last time, his roving eye took in everything in a few seconds. I forced myself not to look at him, instead pretending to read the racing journal. I even had my eyes follow the lines of type although my mind didn’t register the words. Someone with the Exterminator’s level of training would notice a little detail like someone staring at a paper but not reading it.

Thus I didn’t see how long he looked at me. That he looked at me for at least a moment I had no doubt. That man missed nothing, and his gaze rested on every single person in that room in the time it took him to cross it and get to the back door.

As he punched in the key code, I saw my chance.

A ridiculously dangerous chance, but one I couldn’t miss.

To cover my movements as I stood up, I made a show of pulling out my cell phone and dialing a number.

What they didn’t know was that it was the number of the police chief of Cheerville. I needed him to hear this.

He picked up on the first ring. “Grimal here.”

“Be quiet and listen,” I murmured, tucking the phone in my breast pocket and hoping he’d be able to hear everything.

It only took ten steps to get behind the Exterminator just as he was opening the door.

He noticed me after five steps and automatically began to close the door with himself still on my side.

He stopped doing that when he spotted the 9mm in my hand, shielded from view from the rest of the room by my large purse.

Men always wonder why women carry large purses. More than one has told me, “It looks like you have half your possessions in there.”

A gun takes up space, fellows, and a lady needs her makeup and various other things too. Plus, a large purse can be used as a club, a distraction flung in an opponent’s face, and it can hide the fact that you’re carrying a gun.

I made sure the Exterminator saw, though.

He reacted as I suspected he would. He stopped closing the door, obeying the implicit instructions given by the dark circle of the gun barrel moving towards him. He glanced to the left and right, hoping someone else saw this. When he realized he was alone in this situation, he looked at my face …

… and looked right through my disguise.

Nothing like pointing a gun at someone to give your game away.

His eyes narrowed. It wasn’t hatred or malice or even a threat, it was a hard focus, a ruthless determination that assured me that if I didn’t play this exactly right, I’d be a dead woman very, very soon.

All this happened in the last five steps that brought me close enough to him that he had no chance of dodging or getting away, but just out of reach of any punch or kick he might try. I was not at all confident that I could fire before he could disarm me.

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