Page 15 of Stilettos & Whiskey (Deputy Gemma Stone)

I opened the restroom door and looked out. Lightning danced across the towering bank of dark gray clouds. The wind plucked at my hair as I made a run for the command van.

Halfway across the parking lot, two taser darts hit my lower back. A crack of thunder masked my cry of pain as I fell to the ground.

“Gotcha, bitch.” I was half-carried, half-dragged across the parking lot.

Fear knotted my stomach. That high-pitched, nasally voice belonged to Roger Evans, and I had let him get the drop on me again . The Armageddon pendant wasn’t going to do me any good if I couldn’t move.

“Help me get her in the van.”

Rough hands lifted me and dropped me on a filthy metal floor.

“Go! Go! Go! Before her brothers realize she’s missing,” Roger commanded as he slid the door shut.

The van took off at a high rate of speed. I rolled this way and that as the vehicle careened wildly out of the RV park.

Horns honked and tires screeched.

That stupid driver was going to kill us all. I managed to open my eyes a bit. Roger’s delighted smile gave me the willies.

“We’ll take her out to the lake and party like there is no tomorrow,” he giggled. “I’ve been wanting to fuck her for so long.”

“I thought she was your girlfriend, and she dumped you for some chick. Then she was begging for you to take her back because she missed your big dick,” a gravelly voice said.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m gonna teach her a lesson. Nobody messes with me.”

His big dick? Ugh. The man needed glasses.

“We need to stop for more beer,” gravelly voice said.

Another voice added, “And some chips.”

Damn. There were at least three men, and they were probably armed. I’d make my move when they stopped for beer.

Someone prodded me with his foot. “Should we tie her up?”

I held my breath. The feeling was returning to my arms and legs. I just needed a few more minutes.

“Nah, there are three of us,” Roger said. “She can’t get away. By the time we’re through with her, she’ll do anything we want to stop the pain.”

In their dreams. I couldn’t wait to unleash Armageddon on their asses. Talk about a bunch of idiots. The smug bastards knew I was a cop but none of them had searched me. They hadn’t even taken my cellphone. Why weren’t they on death row already? I knew I wasn’t the first female they had kidnapped.

A cellphone rang.

“Fuck! It’s that lawyer,” Roger groused.

The gravelly voice interjected, “Put it on speaker, I want to hear what he has to say.”

“Why? He’s not running things.” Roger snarled, “What do you want, Jim Bob?”

“I gave you explicit instructions on where to find the woman, how to booby-trap the motor home and where to bring her. I’m still waiting,” The deadly venom in Jim Bob’s voice made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

“When we’re done with her, we’ll bring her to you.”

Jim Bob snapped, “If the plan is to work, I need her alive and unharmed.”

“Fuck off.” Roger chucked his phone out the window.

“Hey! He was gonna pay us five hundred bucks for her,” gravelly voice whined.

Roger laughed maniacally. “Raul wants us to kill him. He knows too much.”

A cold horror filled me. Raul? Was he talking about Papa Garza? Was my grandfather behind all of this? Was his senile act nothing more than a distraction? God, it made so much sense. He wanted his revenge, but where was he getting the money from? The Martins? Or someone else?

A big hand squeezed my right breast painfully. “Let’s get her pants off and we can start playing with her.”

“Welcome to hell.” I broke the vial. The first thing I noticed was the sulfur smell. It was quickly followed by the stench of a road-killed skunk, then the rotting flesh of a long-dead corpse. I gagged. Oh, my, God. This was beyond awful.

“What the fuck?” Roger croaked, reaching for his gun.

I spewed my burger and fries all over him.

“Stop the car! Stop the car!” Roger shrieked, brushing wildly at the vomit coating his clothes.

The van skidded, hit the median and came to an abrupt halt against the traffic light. My captors bailed out. Horns honking, cars swerved in all directions to keep from hitting the projectile vomiting men.

In the distance sirens sounded.

Yay, the cavalry was coming. My muscles still spasming, I drew my weapon and climbed slowly out of the car. Watching them vomit over and over again brought a smile to my face. Karma was a bitch. Huh? Why wasn’t I puking like that? Didn’t know. Didn’t care.

Between upchucking, Roger shrieked, “What did you do? What did you do?”

His Hispanic buddy was on his knees, moaning loudly and puking his guts out.

“Tell me who Jim Bob is working for, and I might give you the antidote.”

“Go to hell, bitch.” Roger drew his gun.

I shot it out of his hand. “Who is Jim Bob working for?”

“Fuck you!” Roger bolted down the highway and was hit by a city bus.

I winced. “Ouch, that’s gotta hurt.” I pulled out my cellphone and called 9-1-1.

A calm, female voice answered, “9-1-1. State the nature of your emergency.”

“A pedestrian was hit by a bus.”

“What is the location of the accident?”

Damn good question. I looked around for a street sign. There weren’t any. “Ah, I’m not sure where I am.”

“Does the accident involve a city bus?”

I watched Roger trying to get up. “It does.”

“Don’t worry, ma’am, we’re getting numerous calls on the accident. The paramedics and police are on their way.” She disconnected.

Our command van skidded to a stop and my family bailed out. I snorted. They were all wearing gas masks and Grandpa even had his bazooka.

“What took you so long,” I yelled.

Grandpa walked over to me. “Did they hurt you?”

“Roger tased me but other than that, no.”

Jacob scanned the area. “Where is that little bastard?”

“He got hit by that bus.” I cocked my head as Roger managed to pull himself upright and limp off. “I think his left leg is broken.”

Through his gas mask, Jacob’s laugh was damn scary. “If it’s not, it will be.” He trotted after Roger.

Logan followed him.

A fire truck and several police cars stopped by the city bus. The firefighters and police officers quickly retreated and put on their gas masks.

Lucas pointed at my gun. “They let you keep your Glock?”

“Yep, and my cellphone. According to Roger, I wasn’t a threat, and they didn’t need to search me.”

Grandpa laughed. “He’s a cop, he should have known the effects of a taser only last about five minutes”

“What can I say? You can’t cure stupid,” I replied.

Gravelly voice, a short, squat white male, crawled over to me. “I’ll tell you what you want to know, lady. I’ll tell you everything. Please just give me the antidote. Please.”

“Okay. What’s your name?”

“Jesse.” He dry heaved. “Jesse Kent.”

I grimaced at the drool hanging from his chin. “Who is your boss?”

“Raul Garza.”

I stiffened. “An old guy with facial tattoos?”

Jesse wiped away the drool. “Yeah. Mean sonovabitch. He was an enforcer for the Zetos brothers until he got sick. All he ever talked about was getting revenge on the people who put him in prison.” Jesse barfed again and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Do you know where he got his money?” Grandpa asked.

“Yeah, some crazy dude named Ichabod was always bragging about having an Aztec statue made of pure gold. Raul beat the location out of him.”

Lucas handcuffed Jesse. “How are Roger and his family involved?”

“They’re just muscle, but the entire family wants her dead too,” Jesse answered.

I blew out a long breath. “Evidently, I dumped Roger for a chick and then changed my mind because I missed his big dick.”

“You’d need a magnifying glass to find Roger’s,” Lucas scoffed.

Logan jogged up. “Apache Junction Police Department has a barricade situation at Superstition Springs Mall, and their commander wants to borrow Julie to force the suspect to surrender.”

“What? Are you kidding me? Who blabbed?”

Logan backed up a step. “Roger did and they can smell you.”

“From two blocks away?” I screeched.

“Yes, from two blocks away. You’re upwind of them,” Logan replied and took another step back. “The standoff has been going on for three hours. Commander Tolbert wants to end it quickly and without bloodshed.”

“One good whiff of you and he’ll surrender,” Lucas chortled.

I rammed my elbow into his stomach. “What about the poor people inside the mall?”

“They’ve been evacuated,” Logan said.

Grandpa patted my back. “Lose the scary face, squirt, or they might be tempted to shoot you.”

“I earned my scary face; do you hear me? I earned it!”

Devon hugged me gingerly. “Yes, you did, but Roger is in custody now.”

“That’s true, but we still need to catch Papa Garza and that sneaky attorney.”

Lucas gave me another candy bar. “We’ll get them too.”

“You must really hate me.” I held up the candy bar. “If I eat this, I’ll puke again.”

Grandpa snatched it out of my hand. “Tell Commander Tolbert she’d be glad to help.”

“No, I’m not and how do you plan on getting me there?” I just had to ask. Twenty minutes later, I was being driven to the mall on top of an older, open-cab fire truck.

The guys had a good laugh when they noticed the driver was wearing a hazmat suit.

The Channel Five news chopper got a swell shot of me on top of the fire truck surrounded by heavily armed men wearing gas masks. Yippee-ki-yay! I had just become breaking news .

My highly amused family escorted me to the rooftop of the mall. I stood in front of the fresh air intake vent for three minutes and poof. The suspect surrendered.

I gave them my Debbie Sunshine smile. “How do you plan on getting me home?”

“The same way you got here,” Lucas responded.

It was a long, hot ride. You’d think doing sixty on the freeway would keep the flies away, but hell no. They swarmed us all the way home. I was in the mood to shoot someone when we finally pulled up to the gate.

With the antidote ingredients in hand, and an invitation for a barbecue the fireman quickly drove off. Who knew that by merely sitting on the seats I would contaminate their fire truck.

Sergeant Bergman and Frank were waiting for us. Both were wearing gas masks and hazmat suits.

“Did you get the antidote mixed up?” Grandpa asked.

Sergeant Bergman nodded. “We did and we made a place for Julie in the barn.”

My cellphone rang. Huh? The number was blocked. “Hello?”

“You have forty minutes to get to these coordinates: Latitude 33.8905 and longitude 112.2763 or Alexander Stone dies,” Jim Bob proclaimed. A photo of Dad, unconscious and tied to a chair, popped up on my screen.

“Oh, my, God.” Blood was running down the side of Dad’s face.

Lucas snatched the phone out of my hand. “You’re a dead man walking, do you hear me, Jim Bob?”

“The girl comes alone, or he dies. I see a helicopter or drone, he dies. Do you understand me?”

An icy rage vibrated through every cell of my body. “Yeah, I do.”

“Tick tock.” The line disconnected.

The menace in Grandpa’s eyes was terrifying. “They have no idea who they’re dealing with.”

“No, they don’t,” Lucas agreed.

An evil smile curved my mouth at the thought of unleashing Armageddon on Jim Bob and Papa Garza. “Let’s go say howdy.”