Page 82

IT WAS Alittle insulting that my name didn’t come to Ben’s mind as quickly as I’d hoped. But I had just cracked him on the skull. What little gray matter was sloshing around his brain probably needed time to recover. I’d done everything I could to make him aware of me while he was tried for the rape of his ex-girlfriend Molly. When I took the stand to testify that I’d found Molly at the bottom of the shower where he’d dumped her, I’d looked right at him and calmly and clearly stated my name.

It hadn’t been a solid case. Ben had been very crafty in getting back at his ex for leaving him: raping and beating her, but charming his way into her apartment struggle-free and sharing a glass of wine with her first, so it looked as if she’d welcomed the sexual encounter. I’d known, sitting on the witness stand and staring at him, that like most rapists he’d probably go free.

But that didn’t mean I was finished with him.

“This is assault.” Ben touched the back of his head, noted the blood on his fingers, and almost smiled. “You’re in a lot of trouble, you stupid little bitch.”

“Actually,” I slid my right foot back, “you’re in a lot of trouble.”

I gave Ben a couple of sharp jabs to the face, then backed up, let him have a moment to feel them. He stepped out from between the shopping bags and came at me swinging. I sidestepped and planted my knee in his ribs, sending him sprawling on the asphalt. I glanced at the distant shopping center. The security guards would notice a commotion at the edge of the farthest parking lot camera and come running. I figured I had seconds, not minutes.

“You can’t do this.” Hammond spat blood from his split lip. “You—”

I gave him a knee to the ribs, then lifted him before he could get a lungful of air and slammed him into the car’s hood. I’m petite, but I box, so I know how to maneuver a big opponent. I grabbed a handful of Ben’s hair and dragged him toward the driver’s door.

“You’re a cop!” Hammond wailed.

“You’re right,” I said. I could just make out two security guards rushing out of the loading dock.

“My job gives me access to crime alerts,” I said. “I can tag a person’s file and get a notification every time they’re brought in, even if their original charge never stuck.”

I held on to Hammond’s hair and gave him a couple of hard punches in the head, then dumped him onto the ground. The guards were closer. I stepped on Hammond’s balls, so I knew I had his full attention.

“If I ever see your name in the system again,” I told him, “I’m coming back. And I won’t be this gentle next time.”

I pulled my hood up and sprinted into the bushes at the side of the lot.