On Her Six (Under Covers) Read Online Free PDF

head, she said, “Can’t. I don’t have his name, social, or DOB.”
    Martinez nodded once. “Oh, right.”
    She scooted her chair forward a bit, creating a few inches of space between them.
    He leaned in farther, resting his palm on top of her desk. “That cancels out Dashboard, too, then.”
    She slid her chair forward again and turned her head, ready to tell him to back up. Before she could get the words out, his eyes widened. “You know what’ll work though?”
    She slid to the edge of her seat, her pulse revving in anticipation.
    “Let’s try—”
    The front doors swung open, slamming against the interior wall with a crash. “What the fuck, Martinez!”
    Sam fell against the back of the chair, slouching into the leather. She was so close.
    Officer Sinclair entered, holding on to a man in handcuffs. “I thought I told you to meet me outside in ten? Quit flirting with Harper and get your ass over here!”
    Martinez straightened and hustled toward the front of the station.
    The man in Sinclair’s grasp wasn’t large. He was around Sam’s height and probably only weighed about twenty pounds more than she did. But he had a crazed look in his eye, like he thought he was as big as a sumo wrestler. He swung his head toward Sinclair with teeth bared. If someone pulled out a red cloth, the guy was going to charge it like a bull. He was doing his damnedest to free himself, thrashing and pulling away from Sinclair. Which was a feat since Sinclair was more than six feet and almost as wide as a tractor trailer. When Martinez reached for the guy’s other arm, the man kicked a nearby chair, sending it skidding into Sam’s desk.
    “Hey!” she said. “Watch it!”
    The man yelled obscenities at her, involving something about a woman and a spoon.
    Sinclair gripped the man’s nape and shoved him forward. “Watch your mouth in front of the lady.”
    The perp cussed again and then jerked his head to spit in Sinclair’s face.
    Sam didn’t blink, but her mouth dropped open. Oh boy.
    Momentarily stunned, Sinclair’s grasp on the guy loosened, freeing one arm. The perp used the opportunity to swing his shoulder toward Martinez, landing a hit square in Martinez’s chest. Dan stumbled two steps and landed on his butt.
    “Damn it.” Martinez scrambled to get up.
    The perp dashed toward Sam with a broad, crooked grin.
    Oh, no you don’t.
    She reached for a half-empty bottle of water from her desk and clunked it on the guy’s forehead. It obviously wasn’t enough to injure him, but it stunned him enough to stop his progress.
    His heels dug into the tiled floor and he shook his head as if to clear it. He shouted another profanity and came around the side of her desk. His face was red, and he was panting like a wild beast. Sweat poured down his temples and spit trailed out of his mouth.
    Probably due to the raucous screaming, two plain-clothes officers from the back of the precinct came rushing in. With alarmed expressions, they swung their attention from Sinclair and Martinez approaching the perp to the perp himself who had caged Sam in behind her desk.
    Her back was to the wall, and the psycho stood in front of her wearing the grin of a serial killer. Before she made a move, Sinclair slammed the guy’s face into the computer monitor on her desk, and the other two officers, including Dan, contained the man from all sides.
    Once upright, blood dripping from his nose, the guy flailed his legs wildly and wailed like a caged animal causing one of his ankles to tangle with the cords under her desk. When the officers yanked him back, her keyboard went first. It dropped onto the floor and skidded a few feet. Her mouse clanked onto the tile next. Then she watched almost in slow motion as the computer monitor slid across the top of her desk and dropped. Right onto her already throbbing foot.
    “ YOW! ” she shouted, as the thing rolled off her foot and onto the floor in a steaming heap of plastic. It zapped , then sizzled ,