Killer Knockout (Stella Knox FBI Mystery Series Book 8) by Mary Stone

Author:Mary Stone [Stone, Mary]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-04-02T16:00:00+00:00

21

A bare bulb cast a glaring white semicircle on the corrugated iron exterior of the warehouse. The paint had peeled away long ago, revealing broad patches of orange rust and a grid of broken windows. A line of elms stood sentry, but the rest of the building faded into a dark gray lit by the moon.

Behind the trees, the Cumberland River stretched like a thick black line, sending a dense odor of diesel and wet earth over the seemingly abandoned site.

Stella drove slowly over the pothole-ridden asphalt through a lot scattered with plus size-wheeled SUVs, Mercedes with tinted windows, and pimped-out Chevy Camaros, their raised spoilers blocking any view through the back windows.

She parked her Toyota 4Runner next to a white Mustang and wished she’d borrowed Hagen’s Corvette. For the first time, his “nine-spoke, fully forged, aftermarket wheels” wouldn’t have looked out of place.

Four men emerged from a pickup in front of them. The front half of the truck was the size of a family sedan, and the back half was almost large enough to hold a McMansion. The men stomped toward the warehouse door and knocked. The entrance opened just long enough to allow them entry. A sliver of yellow light stabbed the ground, then fell away.

“Guess we follow them.”

But first, she had to check her makeup.

Turning on the interior lights, Stella lowered the vanity mirror, flinching away from the woman reflected back at her. Red lips. Smoky eyes. Dark curls artfully arranged around her face. All thanks to Stacy.

The outfit had been plucked from Stacy’s vision too. Skinny jeans, so tight Stella fought to breathe, stopped just above a pair of three-inch ankle boots that she secretly had a crush on. A skimpy, sequined tank top bared more arms and shoulders than she was comfortable showing, but a lightweight jacket she’d tucked into her bag was a safety measure she refused to leave in the SUV.

“You look great.”

Stella snapped the mirror shut and glanced over at Ander. He’d pulled a baseball cap down over his eyes and untucked his shirt. That was it, and he looked like a totally different person.

So not fair.

“Thanks. I feel stupid.”

He rearranged his cap. “Me too.”

She flipped him off and opened her door, ready to get the night’s antics over with.

Stella strode up and banged her fist on the metal door.

Just pretend you belong here.

When a flap just above her head slid open, Stella gave the password before being asked. “Southpaw.”

The flap slammed shut. Stella waited. An owl hooted somewhere in the trees. A breeze blew from the river. Steady thumps of classic hard rock came from inside the warehouse. For a moment, she worried the password had changed. There was no response beyond the door.

Then it swung open.

Stella led Ander into a space lit by three strips of yellow fluorescent tubes.

Men stood in clumps near the walls. Most were dressed in shorts and oversized sports jerseys, their heads covered with an assortment of baseball and trucker caps. They held plastic cups of

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