Panic gripped the back of her neck with a cold hand. Had she left them in Uncommon Grounds? She couldn’t go back there now. What if Jordy noticed his cup missing behind the counter? He’d link it to her request for scones.
She took a deep breath, her gaze taking in the nightspots on Melrose still open on a weeknight. She could slip into one of the restaurants, call Jake and wait for him there.
He wouldn’t be too thrilled with her amateur sleuthing, but he’d be happy to get Jordy’s DNA once she told him her suspicions—especially once they got the DNA from Sunny’s clothing tomorrow.
Another thought seized her imagination. Jordy could have her keys. He’d been near her and Rachel a few times, mopping the floor and wiping down tables.
She took a deep breath. He wasn’t going to steal her car, and he wasn’t going to wait for her at her apartment. He didn’t know where she lived and wouldn’t get it from her registration in the car. Quinn had cautioned her long ago to black out the address on her registration just in case someone did steal her car. With the blacked-out address, the thief wouldn’t know where she lived...and neither would Jordy.
Unless he already knew. Had Matt really left those cards at her apartment and car?
She placed a call to Jake and it flipped to voice mail. “Jake, I’m on Melrose, just left Uncommon Grounds. I had some suspicions about that barista who works there and I managed to take something of his, but now I don’t have my keys. Long story. Meet me at The Ripe Tomato. I think they’re open until eleven.”
She ended the call and hustled to the corner to wait for the light to cross the street. When she got to the other side, she waited for a group of people leaving the restaurant and coming right at her. She stopped and moved to the side.
As she did so, someone came up behind her. She felt warm breath on the back of her neck and then a sharp pinch into her flesh.
Gasping, she spun around—right into the arms of Jordy.
He grabbed her around the waist and draped an arm over her shoulder. “Whoa, too much to drink?”
She stumbled against him, inhaling the scent of coffee grounds on his clothing. Why was she thinking about coffee grounds? She fumbled for her gun pouch with thick fingers, but Jordy easily removed the purse from her grasping hands.
“I’ll take that. You have something else of mine, too, don’t you? So nice, so friendly. They all pretend to be nice and friendly.” His hand plunged into her open purse and grabbed the cup.
At least he hadn’t noticed the gun tucked in the pouch. Her tongue felt twice its size as she attempted to form words being transmitted slowly from her fuzzy brain.
He laughed. “Yeah, she had one too many.”
He guided her along the sidewalk, which had turned into a tunnel.
She could barely focus on her feet tripping over the pavement, Jordy’s arm propping her up, Jordy propelling her to the same fate as her mother.
“No.”
“It’s okay. I pumped enough drugs into your system, you’ll hardly notice when the world stops turning for you.” He continued to march her along, and she was happy for him to do so, as she could barely feel her legs.
She could still feel the occasional brush of another human and hear voices far off at the end of the tunnel. He didn’t have her alone, yet.
Then she heard the jingle of keys, the beep of a horn. His car.
“No.” The word screamed in her head, but came out like a whimper.
Jordy mumbled something.
“What?” The word sounded like a wisp of air.
“Rule number four. The victim should never be someone you know. Rule number four. Rule number four.”
She put all her efforts into forming words with her mouth and tongue. “You know me, Jordy. I know you.”
“None of you know me. You pretend you do. Get muffins, Jordy. Get scones, Jordy. Get decaf, half-whip, low-fat, extra foam, shot on the side, Jordy.” He maneuvered her to the passenger side of his car, and she couldn’t move her limbs to fight him off, couldn’t reach her weapon, couldn’t get away.
“Rule number four. Rule number four.”
“You’re violating rule number four, Jordy.”
Had he heard her mumbled words?
He propped her against the car and opened the door. Once he got her in his car, he’d strangle her, dump her body and hook up with a prostitute.
“Rule number four. Rule number four,” Jordy sobbed as he grabbed her to shove her into the car.
“Stop, Jordy. It’s over. Let her go.”
Jordy dropped his hands from her body, and she slid halfway down the car.
Had she imagined Jake’s voice in her fog. “Jake?”
Jordy ducked and reached into the car. “Get back. I’ll kill her if you don’t get back.”
“Let her go, Jordy. It’s over. I called for backup. More cops than you can imagine are going to be rolling up any second.”
The scream of sirens punctuated Jake’s words, and Kyra hugged the side of the car to stay upright. It was over. She wasn’t going to die like her mother.
Jordy grabbed her around the neck and dragged her backward, a cold blade at her neck. “I said I’d kill her, and I will. It doesn’t matter anymore. Nothing matters anymore. I broke rule number four.”
Kyra bucked against Jordy’s hold, creating a sliver of space between them. In that split second, a blast of gunfire cracked through the air.
Wet droplets sprayed her face as Jordy released his grip on her and crumpled to the ground at her feet. She staggered back, her hand sliding against the blood-splattered car window.
Jake rushed to her side, his weapon drawn, the smell of gunpowder permeating the air. He nudged Jordy’s body with his foot, and
