Better.
Now if she could find Captain America’s shield, she’d be set.
39
Mason, Zander, and Ray ran across the home improvement store’s parking lot to the perimeter that had been set up around the giant store by the Washington County sheriff and Cedar Edge police. Mason had tried to call Ava three times, leaving voice mails demanding she return his calls immediately. He fired off texts, asking for her attention.
He prayed her phone was off because she was attending a calming yoga class. Or she was home and in the shower or fast asleep already.
Another shooting in Cedar Edge. Anger showed on the cops’ faces as they paced in front of the home improvement store. Violence had reared its ugly head in their quiet community for the second time within a week. Mason slowed as he saw the broken glass of the front doors. Two cops dragged out a shrieking dark-haired woman as others covered them, their weapons trained on the inside of the big store. They pulled the woman to the side of the entrance, protected from the interior by the heavy walls, and immediately started administering aid. Her screams settled into a low wail.
His gaze locked on her hair, Mason numbly pushed through the line and was grabbed by Ray. “Let go!” He shook off Ray’s hand.
“That’s not her! Look at the orange apron!”
Mason stopped and squinted. Ray was right. The police were clearly assisting an employee. “What happened?” he asked the closest Cedar Edge cop.
“We got reports of shots fired from the mall, but the shooter ran behind the mall and over here. He was chasing a woman. According to that employee”—he nodded toward a balding man speaking with Washington County deputies—“the store was locked up and someone shot out the front doors. A woman ran in and the shooter came in next. He made the female employee turn off the alarms and then shot her and headed after the first woman toward the back of the store.”
“Are there more people in the store?” Mason asked.
“He said there should be two more employees, but we haven’t seen or heard from them.”
“What’s he carrying?” asked Ray.
“All we know is a single handgun. He’s wearing cargo shorts, so it’s possible he has another weapon stashed, and the witness says he wasn’t carrying anything larger.” He paused. “The woman he’s chasing is unarmed.”
“Description of the woman?” Mason’s heart pounded in his head.
“Dark hair. Ponytail. Workout clothes.”
“Fuck. Was he sure she’s not armed?” Mason swallowed hard, knowing full well Ava wasn’t armed; she would have immediately shot the asshole instead of running away.
Travis quietly trod down an aisle of cleaning agents. The screaming woman up front had left the building. He’d heard the sirens of the police cars and the shouts outside for him to exit the building. He ignored it all. He had his prey cornered in this building, and he wasn’t leaving until he’d finished his mission.
She’d screwed everything up. When she’d stepped out of the yoga studio a solid half hour before he’d expected her, he’d frozen. She’d stared directly into his eyes and her recognition had been immediate. She’d known exactly who he was and what he’d done. Shock and anger had shoved his legs into motion, but she was fast and had reacted a split second before him. She’d sprinted away as if she had the devil on her heels.
If she only knew.
No woman will show me up again.
This agent had gotten lucky when she’d uncovered the clothing that he’d left in the bathroom. And it was probably her smiling face that had convinced Simon Goethe to lie to him about being in position for the Starbucks setup. The police had only temporarily fallen for his ruse at the Starbucks and had responded quickly to the mall, but he wasn’t stopped yet. He would see it through. His goal was in this building. All thoughts of stealth and cunning and hiding were gone. His months of elaborate setups to punish the other women suddenly felt cowardly. Intelligent, but spineless. His blood caught fire with excitement as he searched for his target.
He wanted revenge. Now.
He didn’t care what happened to him next, but he wasn’t going to let a woman be his downfall. She will pay.
“This is Sergeant Shaver with the Washington County Sheriff’s Department. Please put down your weapon and exit the building through the front doors,” came from a bullhorn outside the store.
Travis blinked. The sergeant sounded exactly like the guy from the TV truck commercials. He ignored the command and continued his search.
He’d shopped at this store at least a dozen times. He had a general idea of the layout and was pretty certain the only exits were in the west corner of the building, in the front, and through the garden center. He had to track her down before she reached one. He knew the garden center was locked up. He’d shaken the outer gate a few moments before he’d shot out the glass of the front door while aiming at the fed. If he were in her shoes, he’d stick to the outside aisles of the store, circling around until he reached an exit.
The odor of new carpet touched his nose as he padded past the home decor, scanning the nooks and crannies of the shelving for hiding places. He walked quietly but didn’t hide. His prey was unarmed, and he was the skilled hunter. He would win.
Ava slunk along the aisle that ran the length of the back of the store, cautiously glancing down each perpendicular aisle before dashing across. She rapidly peeked around the corner of an aisle of paint supplies, holding her breath. Clear. She darted to the next aisle’s endcap and followed the same process. Slowly moving toward the other end of the store. She spotted a sign for bathrooms at the back wall of the store. Would there be an exit, too?