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Boomerang
Kate Taylor Story #2
Lynda J. King
Copyright © 2012 Lynda J. King
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior consent of the publisher.
The Publisher makes no representations or warranties with respect to the accuracy or completeness of the contents of this book and specifically disclaim any implied warranties of merchantability or fitness for a particular purpose. Neither the publisher nor author shall be liable for any loss of profit or any commercial damages.
2012-05-29
Dedication
This book is dedicated to my extraordinary four-legged friends: Robby, Fia, and Trey, three of the best shelties ever.
Acknowledgments
Many thanks to my two-legged friends and editors, Adele and Susan. You are the greatest.
Chapter One
At first Kate imagined the noise was part of her dream. Then she knew it was real: A key was turning in the lock.
Find a place to hide. Go!
She jumped off the sofa and sprinted across the room into the kitchen, diving onto the floor and pressing herself into a corner. She unsheathed her knife and made herself as small as possible. A split second later the door opened, and she glimpsed a short man in dark jeans and a dark shirt, head covered with a ski mask. He was holding a pistol.
Damn! I should have tried to get the Glock out of my purse. Doesn’t matter! I’ll think of something. I’m better than all of them…I am still better, right?
The man moved cautiously through the door, scanning the room as he went. Behind him, a second, identically-dressed man followed. He was much taller and larger.
Shit! Two of them. Two guns over there. Me and my knife over here. Not good odds.
The men glanced at each other, and the shorter one indicated with his head that the other one should check the bedroom.
Good. They’ve separated. This one’s more my size. Wait till he’s close, get him, and run for the door.
She pushed herself farther into the corner as her man edged slowly around the breakfast bar. He was so close she could smell his smoky clothes and some wretched cologne, and his watery blue eyes were visible through the slits in the mask. She knew he’d spot her any second, but her only chance was to wait as long as possible before attacking.
Wait…. Wait…. Wait…. Now!
Kate sprang up and out, knife held steady in her fist. She was on the man before he had time to react, and she scored a hit, ripping the cloth on his upper thigh and drawing blood. Screeching, he reached down to his thigh but was still able to swing out with the hand holding the pistol. He landed a glancing blow on Kate’s shoulder as she was twisting away from him. She hit the floor. Pivoting around, she grabbed his feet and pulled them out from under him. They grappled on the ground between the kitchen and the living room, she wielding her knife, he swinging the pistol at her head with one hand and tearing at her shirt with the other. At last she got on top of him and raised her knife to strike.
Got you, bastard!
Before she could sink the knife into his chest, a searing pain ripped through her head. Crying out, she collapsed to the side. Blood gushed from her head, and it mixed with the man’s blood as it flowed over her upper body, exposed under the tattered shirt. She couldn’t move.
“FUCK! It took you long enough!” the man said to his partner as he extricated himself from Kate.
The partner shrugged. Then he pointed at the blood tricking down the other man’s pant leg. “She got you pretty good.”
Reaching down, the shorter one touched the cut on his upper leg. “Christ, she could’ve done me some real damage.” Indeed, a little higher and….
His partner was paying more attention to Kate. “Shit, Trommler, look at that!”
The Trommler followed his partner’s gaze. “Yeah,” he sneered. “Pretty nice. I’ve always wondered what the bitch had under her clothes.”
His partner looked up at him, disgust in his eyes. “Do you always think with your dick? Look!” He pointed at the ugly scar just below her breasts. “Wonder who did that to her?”
“Fucking bitch probably deserved it,” Trommler snarled. Then he kicked her hard in the lower back. Kate cried out and tried to move her hand toward her back. She couldn’t.
“Why the hell did you do that, man?” his partner demanded, incensed.
“Bitch shouldn’t have cut me!” he snapped. Then he waved his hand dismissively toward Kate. “I’m going to find something to bandage my leg.” He turned to search through the kitchen cabinets.
The taller man shook his head at Trommler’s back before eyeing Kate again. She was extremely pale, and the gash on her head continued to bleed profusely. Leaning down, he almost held his breath as he felt for a pulse. “She isn’t dead,” he informed his partner with relief. When all he got out of Trommler was a grunt, he continued: “We can stash her in the bathroom. I’ll look for something to tie her up with.”
Trommler turned back to his partner. Tying a kitchen towel around his leg, he said: “We’ve got to cover her face, too. I don’t want to wear this damned mask the whole time.” He limped off into the bedroom, where he slipped a case from a pillow. He also ripped the cord out of the lamp on the bedside table, knocking a photo of two women and a baby to the floor. When he got back to the kitchen, his partner was holding an identical cord from the sofa table lamp.
Together they carried Kate into the bathroom, where Trommler covered her head with the pillow case and secured it with his cord. The other man slung his cord around the pipe under the sink and attached it to her wrists, repositioning Kate three times. His partner watched impatiently. “Come on, stop fooling with it. All that matters is she can’t get loose!”
The other man frowned, but in the end he had to leave her half sitting, half lying, hands extended to the side and above her head.
“Finally!” Trommler barked. “Let’s get started.”
WHILE they were tossing the apartment, Kate regained consciousness, barely. She opened her eyes, but for a reason she didn’t understand, she could see nothing. She had no idea where she was or what had happened; she only knew that her head and her side hurt like hell. When she
