Laugh or Death (Lexi Graves Mysteries Book 6) by Camilla Chafer Page A
Authors: Camilla Chafer
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they're not pros?"
"If I were robbing this place, I wouldn't do it now, filled with diners, and even if I were stupid enough to, I'd round us all up first and take our cell phones."
"You two. Shut up!" yelled one of the gunm en. He fired off a couple of rounds. As the wine bucket on our table exploded, glass flying into the air, Solomon launched himself towards me. He grabbed me and threw us to the floor before covering me with his body.
"Are you hurt?" he whispered as I gasped for breath . His hands were patting me, searching for wounds. If I were really honest, the patting was quite nice, but I would have enjoyed it even more if Solomon weren't checking for bullet holes.
"I don't think so," I replied, trying not to whimper as I mentally assessed myself. Even accounting for the sudden adrenaline spike, I didn't feel any pain, or even worse, any part of me leaking. The little, black dress would live to see another day, and so would I! "You?"
"I'm fine."
I started to move, but a hand between my shoulder blades pressed me back to the floor. "Stay put," said Solomon. "I don't want to be in their sights again."
I nodded my compliance, which wasn't hard since I agreed one hundred percent. We waited, listening, but I couldn't see anything from my position facing away from the bar. "What's happening?" I asked, noticing Solomon watching.
"The manager took the pistol guy into the back, leaving machine gun watching us."
"Everyone else is on the floor," I said, scanning the room from two inches above floor level. I had an excellent view of table and chair legs, as well as several prone people with frightened faces. I could also see the boots of the gunman. They looked cheap and I hoped he got blisters.
"Let's hope they all stay there. We do not need any wannabe heroes today."
"Including you," I whispered, noticing a trickle of blood leaking from Solomon's forehead and down his cheek.
"I'm armed."
"I don't care!"
"I've taken out more than these two idiots."
"Good to know. All the same, you're bleeding, so please, don't. And why are you armed on our date?"
Solomon didn't answer as he touched his temple, dabbing at it. His fingers were a little red when he brought them to his eyes, but the scratch already appeared to be clotting. "It's nothing. Probably got caught by a shard of glass. Anyway, like I said, we'll stay put and..." He paused as a shout rang out from somewhere behind the bar. Seconds later, I saw another pair of booted feet hotfooting it into the restaurant. Around us, heads began to rise, and blinking eyes, looking towards the noise. "Let's go," yelled a voice that I assumed belonged to the feet and the two men racing towards the back. A burst of gunfire resulted in everyone pressed against the floor again.
"I think they're gone," I said a moment later.
"Stay down." Solomon pulled himself into a crouch, then surreptitiously peered over our table. "They're gone," he said, audible only to me. "I'm going to check on the manager. Stay down until I get back. Do not move!"
"Okay." There were times in my life when I would have been happy to ignore Solomon and do my own thing, but this wasn't one of them. The flash of panic, however fleeting, across his face was enough to assure me that he was still worried. I watched from my flattened vantage point on the floor as he made his way quickly from the tables to the bar. I heard him say something to the bartender, or so I assumed, before he was out of sight. I didn't have to wait long for him to return. Just as the alarm began a low hum through the restaurant, Solomon returned with the manager. In the interceding minutes, the manager looked like a different man with his suit now disheveled. Limping, with his head bloodied, I watched a trickle of blood run across the manager’s cheek and drop onto his collar.
"Everyone, we're safe. The gunmen have gone," Solomon announced as I slid my knees to my chest . Drawing myself into a kneeling position, I had to be careful not to
"If I were robbing this place, I wouldn't do it now, filled with diners, and even if I were stupid enough to, I'd round us all up first and take our cell phones."
"You two. Shut up!" yelled one of the gunm en. He fired off a couple of rounds. As the wine bucket on our table exploded, glass flying into the air, Solomon launched himself towards me. He grabbed me and threw us to the floor before covering me with his body.
"Are you hurt?" he whispered as I gasped for breath . His hands were patting me, searching for wounds. If I were really honest, the patting was quite nice, but I would have enjoyed it even more if Solomon weren't checking for bullet holes.
"I don't think so," I replied, trying not to whimper as I mentally assessed myself. Even accounting for the sudden adrenaline spike, I didn't feel any pain, or even worse, any part of me leaking. The little, black dress would live to see another day, and so would I! "You?"
"I'm fine."
I started to move, but a hand between my shoulder blades pressed me back to the floor. "Stay put," said Solomon. "I don't want to be in their sights again."
I nodded my compliance, which wasn't hard since I agreed one hundred percent. We waited, listening, but I couldn't see anything from my position facing away from the bar. "What's happening?" I asked, noticing Solomon watching.
"The manager took the pistol guy into the back, leaving machine gun watching us."
"Everyone else is on the floor," I said, scanning the room from two inches above floor level. I had an excellent view of table and chair legs, as well as several prone people with frightened faces. I could also see the boots of the gunman. They looked cheap and I hoped he got blisters.
"Let's hope they all stay there. We do not need any wannabe heroes today."
"Including you," I whispered, noticing a trickle of blood leaking from Solomon's forehead and down his cheek.
"I'm armed."
"I don't care!"
"I've taken out more than these two idiots."
"Good to know. All the same, you're bleeding, so please, don't. And why are you armed on our date?"
Solomon didn't answer as he touched his temple, dabbing at it. His fingers were a little red when he brought them to his eyes, but the scratch already appeared to be clotting. "It's nothing. Probably got caught by a shard of glass. Anyway, like I said, we'll stay put and..." He paused as a shout rang out from somewhere behind the bar. Seconds later, I saw another pair of booted feet hotfooting it into the restaurant. Around us, heads began to rise, and blinking eyes, looking towards the noise. "Let's go," yelled a voice that I assumed belonged to the feet and the two men racing towards the back. A burst of gunfire resulted in everyone pressed against the floor again.
"I think they're gone," I said a moment later.
"Stay down." Solomon pulled himself into a crouch, then surreptitiously peered over our table. "They're gone," he said, audible only to me. "I'm going to check on the manager. Stay down until I get back. Do not move!"
"Okay." There were times in my life when I would have been happy to ignore Solomon and do my own thing, but this wasn't one of them. The flash of panic, however fleeting, across his face was enough to assure me that he was still worried. I watched from my flattened vantage point on the floor as he made his way quickly from the tables to the bar. I heard him say something to the bartender, or so I assumed, before he was out of sight. I didn't have to wait long for him to return. Just as the alarm began a low hum through the restaurant, Solomon returned with the manager. In the interceding minutes, the manager looked like a different man with his suit now disheveled. Limping, with his head bloodied, I watched a trickle of blood run across the manager’s cheek and drop onto his collar.
"Everyone, we're safe. The gunmen have gone," Solomon announced as I slid my knees to my chest . Drawing myself into a kneeling position, I had to be careful not to
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