Page 42 of Once a Killer

He nodded. “I’m fine.”

“Good. Stay in the car,” Bree ordered as she pulled out her gun in one fluid motion. She opened the door, touched one pocket in her jeans, then leapt to the ground. She ran over to the other SUV and yanked open the door.

From where he sat, Jameson saw the driver slumped over the steering wheel. He didn’t look like he was faking it, but Bree took no chances. She patted him down with one hand, pulling what looked like a Glock from a holster under his arm. She tossed the gun to the ground and slapped his face lightly.

As he raised his head groggily, Bree pulled two zip ties from her pocket and fastened his hands to the steering wheel.

Jameson opened his door and jumped out. He wanted to hear what this guy had to say. And since Bree had disarmed and secured the driver, Jameson wasn’t going to sit obediently in the car.

When he got to the crashed SUV, Bree had replaced her gun in its holster and was patting down the guy’s legs. She pulled a wallet out of the front pocket of his jeans and opened it. Glanced at the driver’s license and pulled it out of its compartment. Shoved it into her back pocket. Then she flipped through his credit cards and took three of them. Found his insurance card and pocketed that as well. Then she shoved the wallet back into his pocket.

She stared at the guy for a long moment. He opened his eyes slowly. Blinked a few times. “Wha’ happened?”

“Instead of crashing into our vehicle, you hit a streetlight,” Bree said, her voice cool. “You’re okay. The police will be here shortly to deal with you.”

He tried to sit up, but the flex cuffs attaching his hands to the steering wheel wouldn’t let him move. “Cut these off. My arm might be broken. You’re making it worse.”

“Hell, no. You’re not going anywhere. I want this attempt on Mr. Ford’s life on the record. I’m letting the police deal with you.” She patted his arm. “We’ll chat soon.”

She stepped away from the open door of the SUV and pulled out her phone. Hit 911 and after a few moments, she said, “There was an accident on Waubansia. Thirty-five hundred north block. An SUV tried to hit me but ran into a streetlight instead. The driver’s okay, but you need to send some people out here.”

She hung up before the dispatcher could ask any questions, and motioned Jameson toward his car. “Get in,” she said, her face stony.

As they pulled away from the accident site, she glanced at him for a moment before returning her gaze to the road. “I told you to stay in the car,” she finally said.

“You had him secured,” Jameson retorted. “Hands cuffed to the steering wheel. You took his gun. And he was only semi-conscious. What the hell could he have done to me?”

Her hands tightened on the steering wheel. “That car was accelerating when it hit the light pole. The impact was hard enough to knock the light pole over. It could have done some damage in the engine compartment. There might have been an explosion. You could have been injured. Or worse.”

“You were right beside that car,” he shot back. “You could have been killed if there was an explosion.”

“My job is keeping you safe,” she said. “Andsafeis not right next to a vehicle that’s just hit a light post at high speed.” The Monster rolled to a stop at a stoplight, and she glanced over at him. “You don’t take direction well, do you?”

“Not when it doesn’t make sense. What if he had lunged at you? Pulled his gun on you? You needed backup.”

“I needed you to stay safe. If either of those things had happened, I’d have had it covered.” She took a deep breath. Then another one. The car jumped forward when the light turned green, shoving him back against the seat. Bree tapped the brake, and the monster slowed to a more sedate speed.

Her anger vibrated in the air, and after a tense minute, Bree sighed. “I needed to get his ID and address,” she said. “Identifying him is part of my job. Knowing who he is could help me figure out who hired him. And that’s the point of all this, right? Find out who’s after your program.”

Jameson slumped in his seat. “Yeah. It is. But I don’t like seeing you run into a dangerous situation with no backup.”

She glanced at him, and he saw surprise in her gaze. Astonishment. Then she looked away and took a deep breath. Blew it out slowly. “That’s possibly one of the nicest things anyone’s ever said to me. And I appreciate it. But I’ve been trained to run into dangerous situations without backup,” she said quietly.

“Trained by Blackhawk Security?”

“Yeah, their training is very comprehensive. But when I was in the military, I was often in a dangerous place without any backup. A crashed car is nothing.”

“What the hell did you do in the military?” he asked.

Her jaw clenched. Her hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly that her knuckles whitened. “I did my job,” she finally said. “Just like everyone else.”

“You ever going to tell me what that job was?” he asked.

“Probably not.”

“How come?”

“Classified.” She pressed her lips together.

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