Agents were racing up the stairs as Monk tried to get his gun from his ankle holster, but John Paul anticipated that response.
He slammed his foot down on Monk's leg, pinning him to the floor.
'Quit messing around,' he shouted. 'Get the hell off him so I can shoot him.'
'I'm gonna shoot him,' Noah shouted back. He hit Monk in the face, grunting from the sheer pleasure of hearing cartilage snap. He punched him again, trying to strike the exact spot so that it would hurt him more.
The door slammed into the pillar when the first agent came flying across the threshold. Monk seized the opportunity. With every ounce of strength he possessed, he shoved Noah off him and dove headfirst off the tower.
The killer landed on the slanted tin roof. He rolled to his hands and knees and crawled like a gorilla
down to the marquee. When his right foot hit a bracket, he braced himself and went for his gun. He was swinging it up when
John Paul and Noah, dropping down to the roof, fired simultaneously. Their bullets riddled Monk's body, sending him dancing backward like a marionette they were manipulating. He swung around and fell forward, his body draped across the marquee.
Panting, Noah put his gun away and then said, 'You have the right to remain silent…'
'Damn right,' John Paul muttered.
An agent leaning from the bell tower window called down to them. 'Subject is on the move.'
Noah pulled his walkie-talkie from his belt. He repeated what the agent had just told him.
'Roger.'
'Was that Avery's voice? That was, wasn't it?' John Paul asked.
Noah spoke into the handset. 'Avery? Is that you, sweetheart?'
He used the endearment just to piss off John Paul, and he grinned when he saw his reaction. If looks could kill, he'd be hanging over the marquee with Monk now.
John Paul snatched the handset. 'What the hell are you doing, Avery? You were supposed to-'
'Are you all right?'
'Yeah, we're both fine. Where are you?'
'Roger. Over and out.'
'Son of a bitch. She's in one of the tail cars.'
They were both sprawled out on the roof. Noah laughed. 'You could tell that from 'Roger, over and out'?'
John Paul ignored him and hit the button again. 'Kelly?'
The agent in charge of the operation was quick to respond.
'Kelly here.'
'Is Avery in one of the tail cars?' John Paul demanded. 'Son of a bitch, I know she is. I told her to stay on that damn boat.'
'Roger. Over and out.'
Noah laughed. 'Guess Avery's got a mind of her own.' He leaned over the side of the building to judge the distance to the ground. 'How the hell are we gonna get-'
John Paul shoved him off the roof. He followed him down and landed in a clump of dead shrubs beside the agent.
Kelly was on the handset again. 'Do you have Monk in custody?'
'No, sir,' John Paul answered.
'Where is he?'
He looked up at the marquee. 'He's at the movies.'
Chapter 38
Jilly had grown impatient waiting for Monk to return to the car. What was taking him so long? She picked up the binoculars from the floor and watched the tower. Where was he? He knew how much she hated waiting. 'Fix the damn
thing,' she muttered. 'Hurry up.'
Monk suddenly came into view. Jilly gasped in disbelief as she watched him somersault onto the roof. She thought he was
going to break his neck. He came flying down from the tower, but while he was still in the air, he twisted around and landed
like a cat on his feet. He lost his balance, skated down the roof on his hands and knees. She thought he was going to flip down over the building, but he caught himself in time.
Two men leapt onto the roof above Monk. They were moving so fast their faces were a blur.
'Kill them,' she whispered to Monk. 'Kill them now. Do it.'
Gunshots reverberated around her. She thought she heard Monk scream her name, and she watched with detached curiosity.
He fell so ungracefully and draped over the marquee, blood pouring down over the lights. He died with his ass sticking up in
the air. She cursed his incompetent soul.
How dare he do this to her? Her disappointment overwhelmed her, and her eyes stung with tears. The remote. She frantically grabbed it and pushed the button. Once, then again and again. Nothing happened.
Damn. How could Monk be so thoughtless? He knew how important her dreams were.
Stomping her feet on the floor, she cursed him because he had ruined everything. Worse, he had made her unhappy.
'Damn you to hell,' she muttered.
He'd left the keys in the ignition. Ignoring his order to take the other car if there was trouble, she hiked her skirt up over her
thighs, climbed over the console, and got behind the wheel. Men, FBI men, she knew, were running to the theater, and there
were people flooding out of the church to see what all the commotion was about. No one would notice her leaving. She pulled
out onto the street, and so that she wouldn't draw any undue attention to herself, she stayed below the speed limit as she cruised through town.
The second she reached the on-ramp to the highway, she slammed her foot on the gas pedal. Muttering curses, she slapped
the steering wheel, trying to vent some of her rage.
She had someone else ready to help, of course. No one was going to steal her dreams again. No one. She knew Monk had weapons packed in his suitcases, and by God, if she had to kill Carrie and Avery herself to get her dreams back, then that's
what she would do.
'Stupid Monk,' she hissed. 'Stupid, stupid man.'
The tail car stayed well behind Jilly. There were three agents riding with Avery in the sedan. Kelly was driving, and she sat
behind him. She tried not to let her anxiety show, but it was extremely difficult.
Her heart felt like it had stopped when she heard the gunshots, and she didn't take a breath until she heard John Paul's voice
over the radio. She went weak with relief and then immediately started worrying again.
'Do you think she's spotted us?' she asked Kelly.
'I'm sure she doesn't know she's being followed,' he replied.
Jilly was now so far ahead of them on the highway, Avery could barely see the back of her head.
'She's speeding, isn't she?'
