Blue Steele - Box Set - Captures 1-6 by Wells Donald

Author:Wells, Donald [Wells, Donald]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Thrillers, Mystery, Short Stories, Women Slueths, Hard-Boiled
Published: 2013-12-30T00:00:00+00:00

BLUE STEELE – CAPTURE #3

I was at the Lone Star Mall.

Earlier, I had eaten lunch in the food court with Becca and her oldest daughter, Amy, who is eight.

Becca and Amy were browsing about the mall, while I sat in a chair at the salon getting ready to have my hair dried and my feet pedicured. It was Spoil Blue Day; a day I try to celebrate at least twice a year.

I had a full day planned. After sleeping sinfully late, I drove to the mall and met Becca for lunch. After the salon, I planned to go home and veg out in front of the TV, and later, after a junk food dinner, I would of course indulge in ice cream, mint chocolate chip.

Gary was out of town on business and wouldn’t be back for two days, so it was a perfect time to just sit back and relax, but of course, life had other plans.

The stylist was just about to place the dryer over my head when I heard the gunshots. I, and the others in the shop, ran to the window and looked out. We were on the ground floor of the three-story mall, and in the middle of our section, there was a coin fountain, past the fountain, on the other side of the mall, was a bank.

As we watched, three armed men in suits ran out of the bank and headed for the exit, the one in the lead was dragging a child along; the child was Amy.

I ran back to my pocketbook and grabbed my gun, a snub-nosed .38, while I shouted to the shop owner.

“Gloria, call 911, tell them that four men just robbed the bank, shots fired, hostage taken,”

“I only saw three.”

“There’s a driver outside, trust me, they’re not walking.”

On my way out the door, I grabbed a scrunchie and tied my wet hair back in a ponytail.

As my bare feet slapped against the floor tiles, I maneuvered around groups of huddled shoppers, and thumbed back the hammer on my gun.

When I heard more shots ring out, I came to a sliding halt in front of the bank and watched as the robbers banged open the exit doors, on the floor behind them were two bodies, a man and a woman, both mall security.

I raced toward the doors and made it outside just as the last robber was twenty feet from the getaway car. He was a behemoth, three-fifty if he was a pound, and it was no wonder that he was last to reach the car.

“Stop!” I called.

The man turned toward me with an Uzi in his right hand and I shot at him four times. The first three shots missed high, but the forth one took the top of his head off in a spray of blood and brains. As he fell, he spun toward his own vehicle and the gun in his hand began to chatter.

The man sitting in the passenger seat ducked in time but the driver wasn’t as lucky.

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