Hunt and Prey (Kelsey's Burden Series Book 8) Kaylie Hunter (books on motivation txt) 📖

“I need the corporate office’s permission to show it to you.”

“No, don’t call anyone. I’ll call in a search warrant instead.” I pulled my phone from my handbag.

“Wait. Stop,” she said, holding out her hand. “The last time I had black and whites sitting in the parking lot, the truckers stopped coming here for two days. They all know each other, at least by radio handles. And they’re wary of cops.” She stood and walked toward the counter. “I’ll get the file.”

A few minutes later, Sue returned with the file, leaving it with me as she helped the kid at the counter with a line of customers. I skimmed most of the information, taking pictures of a few pages, and then dropped the file at the counter on my way out.

Exiting the store, I looked around. Customers shuffled back and forth from the fuel pumps and store. I walked to the side of the building where three cars were parked in the far corner near the back. My guess was the vehicles belonged to employees.

I started walking in that direction but before I reached the cars, I was grabbed from behind. A gloved hand clamped over my mouth as another hand latched onto my left wrist, pulling my arm across my body in a vice grip.

I threw my right elbow back into my attacker’s ribs, but it bounced off a bulletproof vest as he dragged me into the darkness. I could make out the shadow of a car, parked behind the building. I bit his hand, but the glove was too thick. I reached up and jabbed my thumb into what I hoped was his eye, and his grip loosened. I jabbed again and this time when he jerked away, I was able to spin myself to the right and duck under his arm to escape.

As I turned to run, his arm snared around my waist, and our forward momentum toppled us to the ground. My chin bounced off the asphalt, slamming my molars together. As my eyes watered, I tried to crawl out from under him, but he grabbed me by the back of my hair with one hand and by the waistband of my jeans with the other, dragging me upward as he stood.

And then, my luck changed.

As I jerked from his grip, he must’ve snagged the cord on the screamer. The little black box emitted its high-pitch siren at decibels loud enough to cause permanent hearing damage. As I turned to fight, my attacker’s hold vanished. He was already running toward his car.

Out of breath, I didn’t bother to chase him. Instead, I leaned over, my hands on my knees, panting. Blood dripped from my chin and splashed on my white sneaker.

A growling creature zoomed past me. I realized it was Beast as Spence ran past. The car was already peeling from the parking lot with its lights off. I leaned over and picked up the screamer, placing the pin in the hole to silence it.

“You okay?” Spence asked as he jogged back.

“You get a plate number?” I asked as I continued to suck in air.

“Plate was dark. No lights. Sorry.” Placing a finger gently under my jaw, he lifted my head. “You might need stiches.”

“I’ll live.”

“What happened?” Sue asked from the sidewalk near the front of the building. Several truckers and the kid from the counter stood beside her.

“I’m afraid I need to call in the calvary. Sorry.”

Several truckers looked at each other before hightailing it toward their rigs. She sighed, watching them leave.

The kid bounced on his heels. “This is just like in the movies.”

~*~*~

I sat on the ambulance’s bumper as a paramedic taped the sides of my split chin together with Steri-strips. I watched Quille cross the parking lot, looking both pissed and tired.

“I’d just fallen asleep,” Quille said as he walked toward me. “In my own bed—not the couch, I might add. And then you called.”

“You didn’t need to come,” I told him.

“Hold still,” the paramedic ordered.

I waited until he finished before turning to Quille. “I wouldn’t have called it in, but I needed the forensic team to do their thing.”

Quille reached forward and grabbed the zipper on my sweatshirt, pulling the material away from my body and zipping it closed. “Is there a reason you’re not wearing a shirt?”

Sometimes Quille was Sergeant Quille, my boss. Sometimes he was my friend. And other times, like now, he acted like a father-figure, covering me up so no one would see my black bra.

“I bagged my shirt when the first officers arrived on scene. Mr. Tricky grabbed me from behind, so maybe we’ll get lucky with hair or skin evidence.”

“Mr. Tricky?” Quille asked as he watched the forensics team process the scene.

I laughed, hearing Quille repeat the nickname I’d labeled my bad guy. “He’s gotten the jump on me twice now. I thought he’d earned a name.”

“You could’ve been killed.”

“I wasn’t.”

He was intentionally not looking at me, focusing his eyes on the rear parking lot where the team was bagging evidence and taking pictures. “You need a partner. Someone to watch your back.”

I looked back toward my car and whistled. Beast barked twice as his paws pattered across the lot to stop by my side. “Meet Beast. He’s my new partner until things settle.” I reached down and patted Beast’s head. He leaned into my leg, nearly knocking me over.

“Turner and Hooch, lovely,” Quille mumbled shaking his head as he walked away.

“Hey, wait up,” I said, following him. “Since you’re here… And you’re already in a bad mood…”

Quille stopped in his tracks and bowed his head. “Hit me with it. I’m ready.”

“I have a new theory about Roseline. What if she was enrolled in WITSEC?”

“Witness protection? I thought