In Her Sights (37 page)

“Even women?”

Oh boy. He had a lot to learn. Gender had no place in a
building like that. A woman would put a bullet in his heart just as fast as
a man. “Maybe if we see anyone, you should just duck and let me handle it.”

She ran to the front and pushed through the doors. The
inside was full of trash. Fast food wrappers, newspapers, and just general
garbage was wadded and piled everywhere. Graffiti was painted on the walls. By
the smell, something was dead and people were pissing on it. There was an
elevator, but she bypassed it for the stairs.

She took them two at a time to the fourth floor. At the top
of the landing, she looked back to see Clayton was right with her. She checked
the tracer and found the dot was still in place.

She pushed open the stairwell door and stepped into a
hallway. There was no improvement to the smell. The floor was bare concrete.
The doors along the hallway were shut. Cheap, flaking gold numbers marked the
rooms. Keeping her steps quick, she moved down the hall and stopped when a door
clicked. She shoved the tracer at Clayton and, when the door across from them
opened, she jutted her stick forward and jerked it to a stop. A little boy stood
in the doorway.

He blinked at her. “Are you my babysitter?”

She shook her head. “No. Stay in your home.”

He shrugged and pushed the door closed.

A breath eased out of her, and Clayton pointed ahead.
Parents would just leave and hope a babysitter would show up. Lexie walked
forward and could hear faint yelling. The hallway came to a T, and Clayton
pointed to the left. As they got closer, the yelling got louder. Words could be
understood.

“You were fucking me over!” a female yelled.

“I risked everything for you.” This was Arnold. “Then, one
day, I see you with another man. You were fucking me. I’m tired of all this. I
brought the dagger like you wanted. Give me the ring back.”

The female, who had to be Janet, laughed. “I sold it the day
I took it.”

“What?”

Clayton pointed to a door and Lexie stood by it. She closed
her staff and pulled out her gun instead.

“You stupid idiot,” Janet’s yelling tone softened to deadly.

“But….” Arnold’s voice faded. “You said you would give it
back. That’s my mother’s ring!”

“And I said I loved you, and I lied about that to get what I
wanted.”

“What did you do with it?” Arnold’s voice sharpened.

“Sold it at a pawn shop. It’s gone. Get out.”

“What pawn shop?”

“Last warning, Arnold. Get out.”

“What pawn shop?” Arnold’s voice was stronger.

Lexie looked at Clayton. He backed up, weapon drawn, and
waved her to the side.

“Wait!” Arnold cried. “What are you doing? Janet!”

Clayton kicked the door. It popped back, and Lexie ducked in
low. Her weapon was aimed. Clayton swept in beside her, and they moved ahead as
one. She rounded the corner in a living room. Arnold was on the floor
with a pool of blood spreading out under him.

A window was opened. Metal clanked.

“Check Arnold!” Lexie ran to the window and saw Janet out on
the fire escape, going down. She slipped out and chased after. She grabbed the
ladder, dropped onto the third floor, ran around to the side, and landed on the
second landing where Janet was tugging and trying to get the ladder to loosen.

A bloody knife was in her hand, and she stuck it out. “Stay
away from me.”

Please. Lexie lifted her gun. “Haven’t you ever heard not to
bring a knife to a gunfight?”

Janet’s arm shook. “You don’t know who you’re messing with.”

“No, you don’t. Drop it.”

Janet’s eyes squinted. “You won’t shoot me.”

Proof that Janet didn’t know who she was messing with. Lexie
lowered her gun and shot her in the foot.

Janet screamed and jumped back. She limped as she moved
around the ladder. “You shot me!”

“
You okay?
” Clayton called from the apartment window.

“I’m fine. Look for something to tie her up with,” Lexie
answered him. “We’re coming up.”

Sometimes killing wasn’t needed. By the looks of things, Arnold
was dead. With Janet tied up and left in the room with the dagger, there wasn’t
any need to kill her. Moments like this were how Artemis earned a good rep with
the community. “Put the knife down and go back up the ladder.”

Hair had fallen around Janet’s face. The strands were
stringy and clumped together. Several parts hung in front of her eyes. It was dark,
but just enough light glowed from the moon. “How am I supposed to go up with my
foot like this?”

Lexie shook her head. “Figure it out before I put a hole in
the other one.”

Seconds passed and Janet finally did something smart. She
bent and put the knife down on the fire escape. She moved to the ladder and
started up. She stumbled a couple times and grunted as she moved. A limp was
clear in the shot foot, but she managed well enough to the top. Hopefully well
enough she could do it again to go back through her apartment window. Her heart
slowed from chasing her down, but Lexie knew not to relax. Not until Janet was
tied up. Lexie walked around the ladder and waited until the woman was
completely on the next landing.

Now it was her turn. This was the worst part of it. Her
heart pounded as she grabbed the first ladder rung. She held on with one hand
and aimed her gun with the other. “Back away.”

Janet took two steps until she reached the back of the
landing. With a quick breath, Lexie climbed. She took the ladder as fast as she
could, but she wasn’t fast enough. Janet jumped. Not a step forward. Not a movement
of warning. A complete leap from where she’d been.

Her body just lunged at her.

Lexie reached out to block her to protect her face and neck,
but Janet was too close.
Shit, shit, shit
. Dead weight landed on her and
knocked her off the ladder.

They fell. The hard grating of the fire escape landing whacked
unforgiving against her back. Her hand smacked the railing. Iced tingles raced
through her fingertips and the gun fell away. She tried grabbing it back, but
it was gone over the side.

Pain throbbed through every last inch of her and Janet crashed
on top of her. The last of her breath wheezed out on a strangled cough. Janet
was sprawled across her chest. Both of them face up.

She tested a breath and when she was able to inhale, she pulled
in air and let it back out. Hell. She never wanted to do that again. In fact,
Janet could get off too. She pushed at Janet and the woman turned into a
frantic, panicking lunatic.

Her elbows and palms stab in Lexie’s chest and stomach as
she sat up. Geez. “Get off.”

Get the hell off. Janet pushed around more and shimmied,
hands flattened across the landing. That damn knife. It had to be what she was
looking for. Lexie tried remembering, but could only recall the sound of one
thing falling—that was her gun.

She had to get out from under her. Her own knife dug against
her back. If Janet would get off her hips, Lexie could pull it out. This fire
escape just wasn’t wide enough to shove her off. The ladder was against her
side and she just had a foot of space to the other side. She pushed up on her
hands and Janet’s squirming around knocked her back down. Janet scrambled
forward and Lexie lifted her knee and gave a sharp pound to Janet’s face.

She screamed and Lexie let her have another. On the third
knee to her face, Janet tipped to the side and folded over on top of her legs with
another cry. Lexie twisted around. The lower half of her body was pinned down
by Janet, but she was able to pull her knife out. Janet scrambled on her hands
and knees then turned. Blood poured from her busted face. The knife she’d put
down earlier was back in her hand. It cut through the dim light, but Lexie reached
up and stabbed her in the neck. The sharp blade sliced in and she jerked it out.

A gurgle spurted from Janet’s mouth. The knife fell from her
hand, clinked off the fire escape, and clattered to the pavement below. Janet
tipped forward. Her lifeless body thudded against Lexie and head came to rest
against her chest.

It was over.

All of it. She breathed and instead of the piss, rank smell
she’d somehow gotten used to, it was stale metallic. The scent got strong
enough, she could nearly taste the blood. Gross. She shoved Janet off and
pushed her into the small space left on the landing.

Sticky blood pulled on her eyelids. This was getting nasty. She
pulled at her shirt, intending to wipe the blood from her eyes, but warm liquid
that had soaked in the material stopped her. That was an awful lot of sweat.

She’d only come up the stairs and—she dropped her shirt. It
suctioned back against her skin and it wasn’t sweat at all. Her fingers
trembled and the leather of her gloves was sticky too. She pulled at her mask
and her hair came with it. It was in her hair. Her breath shook. And it was
drying too.

Too much. This was too, too much. It was time to get out of
here. Killing people didn’t bother her, but she’d never killed anybody who, in
the end, literally covered her. She put her hands down and she slipped in more
blood on the landing.

Her stomach clenched and she closed her eyes. She could not
vomit here. This was a crime scene.

The fire escape shook and she looked up to see Clayton
coming down. He stepped so that he straddled her hips. He squatted and cupped
her cheeks. His fingers shook on her face. “Are you all right?”

She nodded. “It’s not mine.”

“I looked out the window and saw her on you. I was trying to
come down. It all happened so fast.”

She cupped his hands and held on to that lifeline for a
moment. “I’m okay. It’s okay. Arnold?”

He shook his head. “Gone.”

She pushed up and the blood in her clothes pulled her skin
like sap. She had to get home. She had to get this off. “Let me get the bug,
and let’s get out of here. I say leave the dagger for the police to find.”

He reached in his pocket and pulled out the small device. “Already
got it.”

“Thank you. Let’s go.”

He grabbed the last fire escape ladder, and handed her a picture. “I found something else, too.”

She looked at the image of three people cut out from different photographs and glued together to make
a new picture. She stroked her finger across the young blonde girl with a cute bob haircut. “It’s Janet as a girl.”

“Yep.” He knocked the last ladder loose. “And the man is the owner of the dagger in California.
By the eyes, I’m guessing the woman is Janet’s mom.”

Lexie shook her head and placed the picture in Janet’s hand. Sometimes it was easier to think people
were crazy instead of knowing there was a hurting girl inside. “He screwed the help, she got pregnant, and
that’s what she was paid off and sent to Mississippi for.”

“And Janet never could let it go.”

“Sad.” Lexie followed him down the ladder, picked up her dropped gun, and they ran into the darkness, back to their cars.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Lexie drove her car home, parked next door, and stepped in
her bedroom before Clayton made it there. She headed for the bathroom, needing
a shower now, but she made the mistake of looking the mirror. Her eyes were
wide and dark. Her lips parted, and she just couldn’t seem to shut them. It was
one of those instances where time seemed to freeze.

All the blood on her mask had dried. The black material was
crusted with a sheen. She grabbed the mask and pulled it over her head. Hair initially
stuck, but then tumbled free, and she lost her breath. All the blood had soaked
through and stained her.

Cheeks bloody.

Neck bloody.

Everything…bloody.

Like her mom. She saw the face she’d seen when she had found
Mom. No matter how she tried, all she saw was Mom’s bloodied face in the
mirror. And that was her limit. It was coming, and she couldn’t stop it.

She turned and vomited in the trash can. The stench of it
all swarm through her mind. The dried blood pulled at the fine hairs around her
face as she emptied her belly. Was reduced to painful, dry heaves, retching
deep, that seemed to split open her stomach.

“Hey, hey.” Clayton appeared. The strength of his hand landed
on her back. Strong support. Rubbing in circles. “It’s okay. Get it all out.”

And she heaved all over again, getting choked while gasping
for air. “Can’t breathe.”

He grabbed the tight shirt and pulled it over her head. The
blood was like glue. Pulling the shirt off was like ripping bandages. She winced as
he tugged until she couldn’t take it and just jerked back until she was freed.

He walked closer, and her breath shuddered. “Let’s get you
in the shower.”

She turned back to the mirror as a tear leaked out the
corner of her eye and left a path in the mess on her face.

“It’s not mine,” she repeated.

“I know.”

She lifted her hand and brought it to her face, but stopped
inches away. She stared at her gloves instead. The same as her mask. Black, but
crusted with dried blood. She pulled them off and dropped them with the shirt.

She started to say something, but she just kept seeing her
mom. It all filled her eyes. She tried blinking back the tears, but it was no
use. A whisper of a sound escaped her lips and another tear leaked out.

Clayton put a hand on her arm and pulled at her, but she
didn’t come away from the counter.

She stared into the mirror. “I look like Momma. I never noticed
the resemblance before.” She stopped. She didn’t know why. It wasn’t that she
paused for a breath; in fact, she didn’t take one. What she wanted to say was
pooling in the back of her throat and she hated to admit it. “I never saw the
resemblance before because I’ve never been covered in blood like she was the
last time I saw her. Same cheekbones. Pug nose. Oval face.” A tear ran down her
cheek. “Only she had green eyes, and mine are more blue.”