The Spy Who Kissed Me by Pauline Baird Jones

Author:Pauline Baird Jones [Jones, Pauline Baird]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Suspense
ISBN: 9781603182256
Publisher: L&L Dreamspell
Published: 2010-09-30T05:00:00+00:00

FOURTEEN

I pressed into the small space under a kind of boiler as a scream tried to crawl up and out my throat. Fear put a choke hold on said throat when a dark figure paused, the roundness of his head clearly visible against the dim overhead bulb.

He waited, his head bent in a listening attitude while light found and lit a dull gleam in the weapon he carried. I closed my eyes, so he wouldn’t see my whites and shoot. That’s when I heard more footsteps.

Rescue or an accomplice?

I peeked. The round-headed man tensed, reached up and loosened the bulb overhead, then stepped back into my shadows. He was so close I could smell his noxious after-shave mixed with acrid sweat. What came first, I wondered, the bad taste, then bad guy or the bad guy, then bad taste? Not my finest hour, I’ll admit, but the sheer terror, followed by shallow thought made me realize I could think.

While I had my mini-epiphany, whoever was approaching came into the round-headed guy’s range. He spoke in this growly, bad-guy voice, “Hold it right there, bitch.”

I guess I could understand the error, given the lack of light, but I didn’t like it. And I couldn’t cower and let someone get shot for me.

If only I had a gun.

Wait. I did have a gun.

I eased my hand in my purse and felt through the debris until I found the handle of Rosemary’s glue gun.

“You shoulda kept pretending you didn’t know anything, doll. Mighta stayed alive. Let’s see some hands.”

Not too bright if he thought he could see anything. I’d had time for my eyes to adjust to the dark and I could barely see his round-headed outline against the general murk. Still, even a mental midget would eventually notice the difference between a female victim and what I suspected was a CIA suit. And realizing the guy was CIA would only hasten the shooting.

I pulled the glue gun clear of the purse.

“That’s it, get those hands up nice and high. And let’s have your purse. I need that picture you made of me.”

What? This guy wasn’t just evil, he was stupid. Didn’t he know the police had the picture? I left my purse on the floor and eased upright, gripping the glue gun with both hands, the way they did it in the movies.

The round-headed man didn’t move. All of his little brain was directed to where he thought I was. I took a steadying breath. Then jammed the glue gun into his fleshy back as hard as I could.

“Don’t move, toe rag!” I growled trying to sound deep and official. “Lose the piece!”

He started, then said, “I have the bitch in my sights, spook. Now mebbe you better drop your heater before I do her.”

With a clarity honed by adrenaline, I acted on instinct, sliding the gun down his back until the glue gun was digging into his fat behind.

“Only way you have me in your sights, is if your eyes are in your ass with your brain, idiot.

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