Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 135696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
“Sending a cruiser out to you now. Are you safe?”
“Yes…”—something heavy hit the front porch—“but I think maybe you should hurry.”
“Got it. Stay inside. Stay safe.”
“Um…okay. I don’t think I can talk anymore. He’s trying to be stealthy.”
Though, I had a feeling he started that way, but now, not so much.
“Fine, but please remain on the line,” the man said.
“Okay,” I replied just as I heard some scrambling on the front porch.
That sound eventually stopped, thirty seconds slid by, a minute, two, five, an eternity. I was pretty sure I was going to either scream or throw up when the deputy asked, “You there?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Okay, unit en route. ETA ten minutes.”
“Right,” I kept whispering.
I heard more noise I couldn’t decipher from the front porch, someone talking I thought was Riggs, but it was so low, I couldn’t tell. But it was a man.
After that, nothing.
Until I saw lights come on inside from under the quilt.
I pushed it off, jumped to my feet and turned to see Riggs sauntering shirtless from the back hall to where his Clash tee was on the floor by the bed (apparently, I didn’t have his toss strength, because I’d really wanted to be rid of that too).
As he tugged it on, I told the deputy in my normal voice, “Riggs is back inside, and he’s fine.”
“Status of the situation?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” I replied just as Riggs came to a stop in front of me and held out his hand. “He’ll tell you.”
I gave him the phone.
He put it to his ear and started moving again, turning on lights and talking. “Who’s this?” Then, “Hey, Raul. Got two punks tied up on my front porch. Are you sending a cruiser? We’re pressing charges.” Pause then, “Right. Thanks.”
He beeped off my phone and tossed it so it landed on the couch.
“Tied up?” I asked.
“Nabbed digital cable,” he told me, snatching the keys off the hook by the door (he’d given Brenda strict instructions, so unlike his storms, mine could only be opened, inside and outside, with a key).
The cable thing was genius.
He unlocked and opened the front door, unlocked the storm and flipped on the front lights.
He then strode out.
I ran to the back hall, slipped on my Birkenstocks, then raced to the front door.
I looked through the screen and ornate wrought iron scrollwork (Brenda had an eye), and saw two boys, probably around sixteen, one tall and scrawny who still looked more boy than man, but when he caught up, he’d be cute. The other one was much shorter, already built and already cute.
They both sat on their asses, back-to-back, and had white computer cable wrapped firmly and tightly around their wrists that were behind their backs, as well as around their ankles.
I couldn’t say I’d paid much attention to Dave and Brenda’s Wi-Fi setup, but it was clear they got the ultra-long cords so they’d have locational options, because, yeesh. That was a lot of cable.
“It’s okay, honey. These sacks of shit aren’t going anywhere,” Riggs called.
I stepped out on the porch.
Alas, in the kerfuffle, four of Brenda’s pots had turned over, and one had fallen off the porch. There was potting soil and flowers strewn everywhere.
I’d do my best with those tomorrow.
I went to where Riggs stood over the boys. When I arrived, he curved an arm around my waist and pulled me into his side.
“I guess Dave wanted choices as to where he put his router,” I noted.
I felt Riggs’s regard and looked up at him.
“What?” I asked.
“Princess, I just wired five cameras in your place last week. Left the overage in your storeroom since Dave insisted on paying for it.”
“Oh.”
He started laughing silently.
“How’d you cut it?” I asked.
“Carry an army knife.”
“Oh,” I repeated.
He kept laughing, still silently.
Both the boys were staring at their gym shoes looking a mixture of freaked and pissed (though more freaked, then again, there were two of them, one of Riggs, and they were the ones now tied up and facing what came next).
I pulled from Riggs, but he dogged me as I approached the shorter one and crouched carefully, due to my skirt.
“Hi, I’m Nadia.”
He kept his gaze averted, but red was creeping up his neck toward his cheeks.
Mm-hmm.
Easy to be a punkass when you’re not confronted with who you were punking.
Harder to have her right there.
“I get it might seem like fun to go into the woods and scare the crap out of a woman alone who you don’t know, but just to say, my mother was murdered five months ago, and I loved her very much.”
His gaze darted to me, it was wide, and the color reddened his entire face instantly.
“With age and maturity,” I went on, “I hope you’ll learn how cruel what you did is just normally. But maybe right now you can learn that you’ll never have any idea what someone else is going through in their lives, so being a total dickhead is never okay, no matter how fun it might seem when you’re hanging with your boy, thinking life in rural Washington is boring and looking for a thrill.”