Bad guy. No-brainer.
Kimmer pitched the can with a wicked arm.
As the can of chicken noodle bounced off the man’s head, Carolyne finally turned to flee, running along the wall coolers, taking out a display tree of chips and heading for the door. Good. She was their weak spot, and now she’d bolted out of reach. Kimmer pulled the short, stout toothpick blade from her pocket and flicked aside the stubby leather sheath, covering the short aisle in a quick pounce. A glance showed her that Rio had shifted again, keeping himself between Carolyne and her would-be kidnapper but also effectively blocking the door so she couldn’t escape. Just hold him off a moment—
Her own goonboy rolled on the floor with a surfeit of cursing, blood gushing from his ear. Kimmer just barely heard the store owner in the background, shouting into the phone. “Send someone quick! There’s a big fight in my store—there’s blood!”
There was indeed blood. There might even be more. Kimmer landed knee first on the goonboy; she thought she felt a rib give way beneath her. It got his attention; he might have flung her right back off again if he hadn’t felt the cold flat blade of her knife on his face, pressing down against his cheek with the tip brushing his lower lashes.
He blinked again, letting his lower lashes brush the knife to confirm its presence. For an instant he considered taking his chances; Kimmer pushed the knife down, dimpling the skin but not cutting it. “Let’s be quick about this,” she said, Bonnie Miller’s accent fully in place. “Unless you’d still like to be here when the police arrive.”
“Who the hell are you?” His words came out muffled thanks to her knuckles against his mouth, but she found them understandable enough.
“Someone who wants answers,” she said. And who doesn’t want anyone else to hear me get them. “How’d you find them?”
His eyes, already quite full of seething anger, made room for perplexity.
“All right, then, how’d you find her?”
Understanding dawned. Cooperation didn’t.
She twisted her fingers in his collar, glanced back over at Rio as he staggered back into a display of small foam coolers. He took his opponent with him, and she looked down again, meeting enough of a sneer that she sneered back and drew a careful pinprick of blood from the tender flesh of the goonboy’s lower eyelid. He squirmed, surprised, bucking slightly beneath her. She snapped at him. “Don’t do that, you jerk! Or are you already blind in that eye?” He stilled; she leaned closer, lowering her voice as the store owner drew closer in horrified fascination, the phone drooping from his hand. She covered the short blade of her knife with her thumb, hiding it from prying eyes. “Did you tail me?”
“You?” He’d gone still; no doubt he could feel the little trickle of blood down the side of his face. “I don’t even know who you are.”
“Ex-softball pitcher,” she told him, not taking time for the curse that leaped to mind at the realization that Carolyne had more than one set of goons on her tail. “What’d you think of my curve ball?”
He gave her a few blistering oaths in response, but he’d learned his lesson; he didn’t try to move. When he’d finished she leaned closer, right up to his bleeding ear, and whispered, “The police are coming, asshole. Tell me how you found her, or you know what? I’m going to pop this eye like a grape. I haven’t done an eye in waaay too long….”
“God, you’re crazy!” he blurted.
She nodded wisely, still up close and personal. Chimera, the crazy version.
“Aw, hell. She’s bugged, okay?”
“Where?”
“Like I know? You stupid bitch, I didn’t plant the bug, I’m just following it to make the snatch.”
Kimmer released his knit collar, keeping the knife firmly in place as she reacquired the soup can. In the background, glass broke; the store owner dashed back to his counter with a cry of dismay. “Well, you’re not making the snatch today,” she told him. “But while you’re here…that’s a nasty mole, there, beside your nose. You want I should remove it?”
“You crazy bi—”
Kimmer slammed the soup can against his already battered head, a calculated blow. He grunted with surprise and impact, and his eyes rolled up. He didn’t quite go all the way out, but he wasn’t going to be chatty for a few minutes. In that time, she hoped to be out of here.
She eased back from the man, wiped her hand on his shirt to clean it of the small smear of his blood and reached back for the knife sheath, securing the knife without looking. Rio’s opponent wrenched himself away and bolted for the door, first slamming into it and then yanking it open to escape.
Rio scrambled up from the remains of the foam coolers, staggering a little on his feet, one hand to his back but his expression purely intent on the escaping assailant. He wanted to give chase—that was clear enough—but he didn’t. Especially not as Carolyne threw herself at him, exclaiming over his welfare.
But only for a moment. She might be terrified, and she might have led the sheltered life Kimmer pegged on her, but she pulled herself away, trembling legs and all, and stood apart as she followed her cousin’s gaze.
To Kimmer.
Kimmer stood, hefting the soup can. “That softball’s coming in handy, isn’t it?” Innit, in Bonnie Miller’s voice. She gave it a hard edge, the voice of a woman who’s been in tussles. Her own voice, in fact, when things got too personal. “Didn’t mean to hit him quite that hard, though.”
The store owner leaned over his counter to frown at the man. “He was talking just a moment ago—”
She gave a short, decisive shake of her head. “I was afraid I’d…well, you know…killed him. He roused up for a minute there, but he’s still pretty out of it.”
“You’re all right?” Rio asked. She didn’t blame him for his puzzlement over a total stranger who’d come to Carolyne’s rescue, his sharp-eyed assessment of her. At least he hadn’t seen the knife.
She shrugged, struggling to hide the anger that fueled her through such moments and lingered afterward. He’d certainly not understand that, not from your average woman in such laid-back rural surrounds. “Might get the shakes in a minute or two, but I’ll do. And the cops are coming.” There was no help for it now; she had to bring up her destination, even as she plunked the gas money on the counter. “I don’t need to see them again. I’m gonna be gone. I believe I’ve got enough gas to get right on to Mill Springs.”
“But that’s where—” Carolyn cut off her words, giving Rio an uncertain look. Rio hadn’t taken his eyes from Kimmer; his gaze made a definite impact. Not a blow…but a connection.
“Well, sure—that’s where this road leads,” Kimmer offered, lingering when she should have been moving right on out. Was that a siren? She looked at Rio, wondering if he’d heard it, too. “Bonnie Miller. Maybe I’ll see you there.” She tossed the soup to him.
Rio snatched it out of the air and gave her a slow smile, one that kicked off an instant surge of resentment. Don’t be personable, dammit. Don’t turn real. Stay an object.
But
