to cut me up and eat me.
The image was grainy black-and-white.
“Not in color?” I asked.
“Budget cuts,” Berger said. “We got discontinued stock from Radio Shack.”
For thirty seconds, there was only the still image of the parking area. My truck could be seen at the edge of the picture. Finally I appeared and walked across the traffic lane. I approached my truck, pressed the remote, and a man rushed in behind me. He was wearing jeans and a windbreaker. He had a knife that looked like something out of
“What is he saying?” Berger asked.
“He said he was going to kill me good. And then he was going to cut me up in little pieces and eat me.”
“Sick,” Gooley said. “I like it.”
The tape continued, and I watched myself try to pull away from Raz, watched Raz hit me in the face with the butt of the knife, snapping my head back.
The three of us sucked in air when I got hit. There was a moment of suspended animation where Raz stepped back and I gathered myself together. What followed was pure instinct on my part. I brought my heel down on his instep as hard as I could, catching him by surprise. He bent slightly to look at his foot, and I kicked him in the face.
“Whoa!” Gooley said. “Ow.”
Raz tackled me at knee level, we went down, and it turned into a catfight. He was trying to punch me, and I was scratching and biting. I grabbed his hair and kneed him in the nuts.
“Cripes,” Berger said. “That had to hurt.”
I saw myself reach for the knife, wrap my hand around it, and slash at Raz, catching him in the leg, opening a twelve-inch gash in his thigh.
“
Raz reached for his injured leg, and I scrambled to my feet. He was in a semi-fetal position, trying to protect his nuts and the knife wound, and I kicked him as hard as I could in the kidneys a bunch of times.
Gooley and Berger leaned forward, eyes wide.
“
Raz rolled away, managed to get to his feet, catapulted himself into the van, and slammed the door shut. I was waving the knife and yelling when he drove away.
“I need to go home and change out of these clothes,” I said. “Is there anything else?”
“I’m good,” Berger said.
“Yeah, me, too,” Gooley said. “I got nothing. I might need some air. I’m lucky I didn’t lose my lunch when you kicked him that last time.”
“I felt threatened,” I said by way of explanation.
There were no scary cars in my parking lot. No black Town Car, no van, no Scion. I limped into my building and let myself into my apartment. I stood in the kitchen, stripped down naked, stuffed all my clothes into a big plastic garbage bag, and set the bag by the door. The clothes were beyond washing. They were going down the trash chute.
I limped into my bathroom and stood under a hot shower until all the blood was washed away and I stopped sobbing. I had no idea why I was crying. I mean, it wasn’t like I lost the fight, right? I shampooed my hair and lathered up one last time. I got out of the shower, avoided looking at myself in the mirror, and wrapped myself in a towel.
I stepped into my bedroom and came face-to-face with Ranger.
He did a slow, full-body scan. “Babe.”
“Do
“Have you seen yourself?”
“No.”
He handed me a fresh ice pack. “You need to keep this on your face. Has a doctor looked at your nose?”
“No. Do you think I should get it X-rayed or something?”
“Can you breathe?” Ranger asked. “Are you in pain?”
“Yes, I can breathe. And it hurts about as much as the rest of me.”
“You have some minor swelling. Other than that, it looks okay. If things change, you should get it checked out.”
“How did you know I was attacked?”
“We have a friend on the sixth floor.”
Ranger wasn’t a man who showed much emotion, but I could swear I detected some steam curling off the roots of his hair. “Are you angry about something?” I asked him.
“Anger isn’t a productive emotion. Let’s just say I’m not happy.”
“Should I ask why?”
“I expect you already know. You’re caught up in the middle of something bad, and you’re not being careful. Get dressed and come out to the dining room. I have a show-and-tell for you.”
Oh boy. Ranger didn’t stay to watch me get dressed. He didn’t rip the towel off me. He didn’t get naked. I must really look bad. I went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. EEK! This was worse than I thought. Huge black bruise developing and swelling under my right eye. Still small amount of blood seeping from my nose. Swollen lip with ugly cut and huge bruise. Then there was the rest of me, with assorted bruises and scrapes. Not exactly a sex goddess.
I pulled on jeans and a T-shirt and half dried my hair. I plastered the ice pack to my face and went out to see Ranger.
“Here’s your Smith and Wesson,” he said. “I took it out of the cookie jar. From what I can see, you haven’t any ammo. I took the stun gun out of your bag. It’s dead. Needs recharging. And it looks to me like you’re out of pepper spray and using hair spray.”
I adjusted the ice pack. “Hair spray works surprisingly well.”
“Don’t push it,” Ranger said. “I’m not in a good place.” He took a gun off the table and handed it to me. “This is a semiautomatic baby Glock. It’s smaller and lighter than the one I carry. It’s ready to go. Do you know how to use it?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know how to load it?”
“Yes.”
“The only time I want to see the clip empty is immediately after you’ve dumped every round into a warm body.”
“Jeez,” I said.
“Humor me. Next up is the stun gun. This is larger than the one you’re currently carrying. It’ll drop a 1,500- pound cow. If you don’t keep it charged, it won’t drop anything.”
I nodded. “Yes sir.”
“Is that snark?” he asked.
“It might be.”
Ranger almost smiled.
“The truth is, I’m kind of proud of the way I’ve defended myself so far. I’m still alive, and I only cried once. And as bad as I look, I’m in a lot better shape than the other guy.”
“You work well with panic and rage,” Ranger said.
I looked down at the table. “What’s with the watch?”
“It works as a watch, but it’s also a tracking system. As long as it’s on your wrist, I can find you. There are three little buttons on the side. If you push the red button, we come get you.”
