Deadeye Read Online Free PDF

getting warm.
Very
warm. But they couldn’t run the AC without running the engine—and that would give them away. So they cracked the windows, but it didn’t make much difference. Both were down to body armor and tee shirts by that time, but it was at least eighty degrees inside the car.
    Forty-five minutes crawled by. Lee was slumped behind the wheel, willing Cherko to show, when she spotted movement in the outside rearview mirror. “Uh, oh . . . We have company.”
    Conti was laid out on the backseat listening to a retro band called The Eagles. He jerked the earbuds out as he sat up. “Whacha got?”
    â€œA car prowl . . . And we’re sitting in the car this jerkweed wants to break into.”
    Conti looked out through the tinted window and saw that a male suspect was coming their way with a ball-peen hammer in his right hand. A smash and grab then . . . A low van could be seen behind the man, with its side door open. “I’ll take care of it,” Conti said as he put on his jacket. Then he got out.
    Lee laughed as she watched in the mirror. The would-be thief did a double take as a large man exited the car, produced an elaborate yawn, and began a series of stretches. That was sufficient to send the car prowler back to the van. He entered, pulled the door closed, and the vehicle took off. Unfortunately, that was the only thing that happened until 6:00 P.M. , when the second team took over.
    It had been a long, frustrating day, and Lee was happy to return home. By the time Conti dropped her off, it was nearly seven o’clock and way past the time when she normally ran. Should she force herself to do it? Or push it off?
    Suddenly, she felt the same prickly sensation she experienced when somebody eyeballed her in a club. But she wasn’t
in
a club. She was standing in front of her apartment house.
    So who is it?
Lee wondered as she took a look around. A snoopy neighbor? That was certainly possible. Yet for some reason buried in the reptilian part of her brain, Lee didn’t think so. She felt an urge to seek the safety of her apartment.
    That aspect of her brain wasn’t in charge, however. And rather than run from the things that frightened her, Lee continually forced herself to confront them. So she chose the vacant house on the other side of the street as being the most likely place for a “looker” to hide and walked straight toward it.
    If that elicited a response, she couldn’t see it. Her combat boots made a thumping sound as she climbed the front stairs and rattled the door. Lee figured that stealth would be pointless if someone was watching and hoped that being assertive would provide something of an edge.
    Having failed to gain entry through the front door, Lee made her way along the north side of the house. A narrow ribbon of cracked concrete led her between clumps of overgrown bamboo, past a sad-looking rosebush, and into a yard filled with trash. Lee drew the Glock and held the barrel straight up as she climbed a short flight of stairs to a screen door with a hole in it. It produced a horrible screeching noise as she pulled it open. That revealed a wooden door that had been left partially ajar. Tool marks could be seen where it had been jimmied. Lee stood to one side with her weapon at the ready. “Los Angeles Police!”
    There was no response. Lee paused a moment before entering the kitchen. The place had been ransacked more than once judging from the way things looked. It was nearly dark outside, so Lee removed a small flashlight from an inside pocket and held it away from her body as she entered the dining room. The floor was littered with empty beer cans and fast-food containers. A sure sign that one or more homeless people had camped there at some point.
    Glass crunched under Lee’s boots and a blob of white light roamed the walls as Lee made her way into a Craftsman-style living room. The front windows were