Chapter One
Lisa Pasqualone knew very little about guns. She was pretty sure the one pointing at her at the moment was real. She tried to scream, but instead of a scream, what she uttered sounded more like a squeak. Her throat seized in panic at her imminent death.
"Where is Albert Hitchcock !" the perpetrator demanded. She almost giggled at both of the ridiculous occurrences. First, the name of the person he asked for, and second, the fact that she thought of him as a perp. Hell she'd watched enough CSI shows to know that's what the cops were going to call him after he killed her.
She stood next to her car in the parking lot in front of her apartment building. After leaving work and a quick stop at the gym her plans had consisted of reheated leftovers and a hot bath. She gripped her purse and a jammed packed tote in front of her chest, to shield her body as much as possible. If only she'd stayed at the gym and worked out, this scenario would not be happening. Yes she'd stopped by the gym. Not to work out, but to run in and get her favorite sneakers out of her locker. Tomorrow was dress down day at the office and she planned to wear her lime green t-shirt, which matched her sneakers perfectly. Of course if she died, that was a moot matter.
Although it was barely six in the evening, the sun was already low on the horizon making the area dark enough for an assault.
"I have no idea what you're talking about." Her body shook when she lifted her shoulders. "Isn't Alfred Hitchcock dead?"
The perp had the gall to look incredulous. "Lady I know what I saw. You stole him right out of my Jeep, You took the cat. It took me two days to find you. Thanks to your ugly ride, you were easy to spot."
“ Cat?” Oh God, the tabby she'd rescued from black Jeep. Her eyes rounded and she gulped nodding. "It was a hot day. He could have died of heat exhaustion. I only took him because you abandoned him in the Jeep," she finished weakly.
The tall solidly built criminal didn't reply, instead he used the gun to push up his baseball cap. He seemed to realize what he did and lowered it back. At least he stopped pointing the huge weapon at her. "It was cloudy and...just give me my cat."
Althou gh Lisa was a tall woman standing five foot ten, he seemed larger than life. All right so maybe he was only a couple of inches taller than her. But she figured being armed made him look taller. Lisa straightened her shoulders. "My car is not ugly." She scrutinized his weapon and his dark eyes narrowed at her inspection
Just then a door across the parking lot opened. A woman with heavily made up eyes stuck her head out and scanned the street, looking at them only for a second. It was her apartment manager, Norma Starkly. Lisa opened her mouth to call when the woman ducked back inside and slammed the door. Obviously Norma had the instincts of a brick.
"My cat?" The perp insisted.
"Fine , you stay here. I'll go up to my apartment and get him." Lisa motioned for him to stay where he was. She turned and prepared to run only to freeze when his hand wrapped around her upper arm.
"Why don't I go with you?" He'd read her mind. She had no intention of returning to the parking lot. As a matter of fact she'd been reciting 9-1-1 over and over in her mind since he'd appeared.
As they walked to her apartment door, she visualized her death. They'd find her laid out on the floor in a pool of blood. Hopefully he'd shoot her someplace other than her face. She'd just had her eyebrows and upper lip waxed. It reassured her to know that her corpse would look good. At least that was one positive.
Her hand s shook but she managed to get the key into the lock. The perp reached around her and threw the door open. At that precise moment, the cat ran between their legs racing toward the street.
T he perp dropped the gun. Lisa dove for it and grabbed it with both hands. She rolled on to her back and somehow managed to fire a round, which hit the perp right in
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