Page 7

“I’m glad you did. Do you live in Memphis?”
“Yes. In Midtown. I work at the bank at Highland and Poplar Avenue.”
“Hey, that’s where I bank.”
Either he had an account under another name, or he was lying to make it seem as if they had something in common. Didn’t really matter, but it was interesting to see him work his sick game.
“It’s a small world.”
He grinned. “We’re practically best friends already.”
She giggled and took another small swallow of her drink. She didn’t want it to get so low that he would order another one. Asking for a virgin screwdriver might push him away.
The sound of the music increased as a DJ came onto the small stage above the dance floor.
“Would you like to dance?”
Since having his hands on her was something she didn’t want to contend with, she shook her head. “Thanks, but I don’t really like to dance.”
“Me either, but it’s getting loud in here, and I’d really like to have a conversation with you without shouting. Would you want to go to a coffee shop or something?”
Biting her lip in indecision, she said, “Well…I—”
He held up his hands, all innocence. “I promise I’m a nice guy.”
“Okay. That sounds like fun.”
Acting the gentleman, which would impress any girl, Meeks stood and held out his hand to help her move around the table and step down. Still holding her hand, he led her through the crowd and out the door.
As no woman had survived to tell, it wasn’t clear what happened between the pickup and the abduction. Jules was about to find out.
On
ce outside, they stopped on the sidewalk. “There’s a place over on 4th Street that makes the best lattes in town. Sound good to you?”
“Sure. My car’s just around the corner. I can follow you.”
“No need. I’m parked right over there.” He pointed toward a darkened alleyway, where a few cars were parked. “We can ride over together, and I’ll bring you back.” She was sure his kind smile was meant to support his claim that he was a nice guy. “It’ll give us more time to talk.”
Getting into a car with a stranger was not a good idea for anyone. Getting into a car with a known serial killer was a very bad idea. Jules knew what she was doing. No one had trained harder, was better equipped, or more determined.
Her hand still in his, she let him lead her to a silver Mercedes SUV. They had speculated that Meeks had a garage filled with expensive cars. He was a multimillionaire, having inherited much of his wealth from his deceased parents and almost doubling it since. Now, for some reason, he preferred killing. There was all sorts of speculation about when and why he’d begun killing. All sorts of theories that something must have triggered his psycho tendencies. Jules didn’t care about his reasons. She just wanted to stop him.
He opened the passenger door for her, and the instant her foot touched the floorboard, a screwdriver was pressed to her throat. “Get in,” Meeks snarled.
She had assumed he would wait until he got her into the car before he pulled his weapon on her. Why hadn’t he? She could still scream and attract attention. Even though they were hidden in an alleyway, if she made a noise of distress, people would come running. Was this part of the thrill for him? Or had something spooked him?
“What are you doing?” The tremor in her voice had more to do with fury than fear.
The screwdriver dug deeper into her skin. “I said get in the car.”
Screaming was out. The last thing she wanted to do was get someone else hurt. She had her gun in her bra holster, but that would mean making a sudden movement, which might get her stabbed.
He was standing behind her, the screwdriver pressed on her carotid. One hard jab, and she could bleed out before help reached her. Since they were about the same height, she chose to shock him with a hard and startling head-butt to his nose. He let loose a pained grunt, and she felt the give of cartilage. She’d definitely cracked something.
The screwdriver clanked to the sidewalk—he’d dropped his weapon. Jules turned swiftly and swung her forearm against his head, slamming it into the back passenger window. She followed with a knee to the groin, but he recovered quickly, slugging the side of her head with his fist. She felt the impact through her whole body and fell backward, landing on the pavement.
Blood covering his face, Meeks jumped into the passenger side of his vehicle. She got to her feet in time to see him climb over the console to the driver’s side. She reached for the door handle, but it was too late. The vehicle started up, and he tore out of the parking lot.