Page 25 of Killer Knows Best

I grab my gear and both buddy and I head out as the cool fall air bites at my face. The leaves crunch underfoot as we jog toJack’s truck, and as soon as we jump in, he flashes a lopsided grin.

“Took you long enough,” he says, revving the engine.

“Sorry, I was solving world peace. That and the fact I had to pry Buddy from the TV. It’s hard to compete with Mother Nature.”

The truck roars down the road, and we weave through traffic as if we were auditioning for NASCAR. Jack’s knuckles grip the wheel tighter when Hale sends over the location details—Elmwood.

I know for a fact that Elmwood haunts Jack for many reasons. The place reeks of bad decisions and depravity, so it seems fitting that’s where the pimp in question would be.

We leave Buddy snoozing in the truck and meet Nikki at the corner of Jackson and Rosewood, right outside a liquor store that looks as if it’s seen better days.

“Here’s the host of the party,” she says, flashing her phone at us and we take a moment to inspect the mugshot of the man of the hour.

Gunther looks like your typical street thug who somehow managed to dodge death long enough to age—white hair, mean eyes, pocked skin, rough around the edges in general. He’s the type of guy you cross the street to avoid because he looks as if he’d stick a knife in your belly for kicks.

Supposedly, we’re in his territory. Seeing his mugshot is one thing, but seeing him in the flesh might make me rethink every choice I’ve ever made leading up to this point. Good thing I’m packing. I touch my elbow to my gun just to affirm this.

“You ladies ready?” Jack asks, adjusting his holster.

“I don’t see any ladies,” I say. “But I’m ready.”

Nikki nods. “I’d like to think of myself as a bad-ass broad. And I’m always ready for a good time.”

“Okay”—Jack sighs— “let me rephrase that. Are you two broads ready for Elmwood?”

I give him a flat look. “I don’t know if I’m ever ready for Elmwood.”

“We’re ready for Elmwood,” Nikki says sternly. “The question should be, is Elmwood ready for us?”

“Touché,” I tell her. “Let’s hope this night doesn’t go sideways.”

The three of us walk shoulder-to-shoulder down the street as the chill in the air increases. It smells like cigarettes and fried food, with just a hint of something rotten. Probably Gunther himself.

The traffic isn’t so bad at this hour, and the people on the streets are in one of four categories: they’re either lost, hit rough times, are looking for trouble, or they are trouble. I’d say we fit nicely in the last two.

Sure enough, Hale’s intel is on point and we spot the man we’re looking for down the street leaning against a building with a couple of women gathered around him, just shooting the breeze. Or diving up the night shift.

Gunther stands with confidence decorated in enough gold chains to give a pharaoh a run for their money. He’s not even trying to blend in. A beat-up sedan pulls up and he nods at them before walking over. He gives a casual glance in this direction before doing a double take as we fast approach him. The man’s eyes widen, and just like that, he bolts down the street. The girls scatter like pigeons, but the car in question pulls away coolly.

The chase is on as we bullet down the street and eventually follow him into a dilapidated building—a motel no less.

“Cover me,” Jack pants as the three of us hug the wall with our backs as we speed up to the second story of the run-down motel. Our guns are drawn, our adrenaline hitting its zenith.

The thing with Elmwood is that every nook and crannyqualifies as the crappy downtown corridor, and this no-tell roach motel is no exception.

“Where do you think he went?” Nikki says, nearly out of breath.

Our sprint through three city blocks while chasing our suspect has made us well aware we should lay off the donuts for a while. Will we? Probably not. But lessons like this usually need to be learned the hard way.

The lights flicker as we make it to the second floor and are met with three orange doors, each sealed shut. Shouting comes from the far end and Jack hitches his head in that direction as the sounds of women’s voices rise into the night, and they sound wildly agitated.

Jack steps toward the door before glancing back at us.

Both Nikki and I nod his way.

We’re ready.

My heart riots in my chest so hard, my skull vibrates from the effort.

---