EDGE OF SUSPENSE: Thrilling Tales of Mystery & Murder (4 page)

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Authors: R. Barri Flowers

Tags: #crime, #suspense, #murder, #mystery, #short stories, #thrillers, #anthologies, #mystery short stories, #mystery suspense, #literature fiction short stories, #legal short stories

BOOK: EDGE OF SUSPENSE: Thrilling Tales of Mystery & Murder
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Apparently Escobero wanted her dead before
she could write a book about him, irrespective of what she revealed
about her source of information.

She looked at Carter. "Is that why I was set
free—to make it easier for him to take me out?"

He shook his head. "You're free because the
judge felt keeping you detained no longer served a purpose."

"Are you going to offer me protection or
what?"

"Yes."

"And in return...?"

He looked her in the eye. "We'll need you to
testify against Escobero."

Lydia raised her brows. "Wouldn't that be
tantamount to committing suicide?"

"Just the opposite," Carter said. "With the
evidence we already have on Escobero, and what you can provide, it
might be the one way to ensure you live to a ripe old age."

* * *

The DSR-1 sniper rifle was aimed at the
window, waiting to get the target in site for a clear shot.

The shooter was perched on a rooftop across
the street from the warehouse, fidgeting impatiently; wanting only
to get the job done with little to no collateral damage.

There were two figures in the room, neither
standing still long enough to get a good fix. The woman glanced at
the window for an instant before ducking out of view. The man kept
his back to the window, but seemed acutely aware of his
surroundings.

The shooter wondered if the mission could be
accomplished with one clean shot. Or would it take two to put down
the target?

Peering through the scope, finger on the
trigger, the shooter tried to find the right angle, expecting the
hit to go down at any moment.

* * *

Lydia considered her options. It was easier
to write a book about a drug kingpin than testify against him in
court. But now that the word was out concerning her association
with Javier Whitman, her testimony carried more weight. Meaning
that Antonio Escobero saw her as a threat, not only to his ability
to beat the charges he faced but to his organization as well.

She had no choice other than to cooperate
with the authorities. Or spend the rest of her life looking over
her shoulder.

"Okay, I'll testify," she agreed, wondering
how it would impact her book.

"Good. It's the right thing to do." Carter
grinned crookedly. "We need to compare what Whitman told you with
the information we already have on Escobero's organization."

"Gee, I can hardly wait," Lydia said. "So
what comes next?"

"First we'll have to keep you out of harm's
way until Escobero goes to trial."

"How long will that be?"

"Three months minimum, probably more like
six."

She sighed. "But I can't just put my life on
hold."

"You won't have to," he said. "Just get used
to having someone watch over you 24/7. Once Escobero's put away for
good, he'll have a lot more things to worry about than a
journalist—like trying to stay alive."

Lydia watched Muffin jump up on the
windowsill. She walked over to the window and stared out at the sky
wondering if her relatively peaceful life was going to be forever
changed.

* * *

The shooter took a good look at the face
that seemed transfixed on the window for an instant before the
woman abruptly picked up the cat and moved out of sight. The man
took her place at the window. He seemed to study the outside as
though looking for something.

Or someone.

The shooter felt confident the position on
the roof was nearly impossible to see with the naked eye.
Nonetheless it was slightly unnerving knowing everything would be
ruined if caught.

That couldn't happen.

Focusing on the man, the shooter's trigger
finger was itching to fire. The man abruptly stepped out of view,
as if his attention had been diverted.

The shooter repositioned and prepared to
deal the fatal blow to the person who had to die.

* * *

There was a knock on the door.

Carter quickly grabbed Lydia, fearful the
assassin had tracked her down.

He whipped out his Glock .40 and whispered,
"Are you expecting anyone?"

"Yes, my friend Suzanne is coming over to
help celebrate my release."

Carter looked out the peephole and saw a
petite, blonde-haired woman holding a deli bag and bottle of wine.
He described the visitor to Lydia. "That her?"

Lydia nodded. "Yep, that's her."

Carter wanted Lydia to maintain her normal
routine as much as possible without putting anyone else in
jeopardy. The fact that Lydia was cooperating made him willing to
bend the rules a bit. At least for now.

"Let her in."

Lydia opened the door.

"Hey," Suzanne said joyfully. "Hope I'm not
too early."

"You're not."

"Good, because we have a lot to—" Suzanne's
mouth hung open when Carter stepped out from behind the door,
closing it while still brandishing his firearm. She looked at
Lydia. "What's going on here?"

"It's not what you think," Lydia said.

He decided to speak for himself. "Special
Agent Devlin Carter with the DEA. I'm here to help Ms.
Muldaur."

"Special Agent Carter, this is my good
friend Suzanne Pratt," Lydia said looking from one to the
other.

Suzanne blinked, ignoring Carter. "Does this
have anything to do with the reason you were in jail?"

Lydia nodded. "Javier was murdered. They
think Escobero's behind it and that I might have a target on my
back, too."

"What?" Suzanne's eyes widened. "You're
telling me that Escobero put out a hit on you?"

Lydia colored and turned to Carter. "He
seems to think so."

"Better safe than sorry," he explained. "If
Whitman gave you enough info to write a book about Escobero's
empire, it stands to reason that he sees you as a threat to
everything he stands for. Especially since you're the only living
person who can attest to what Javier Whitman had to say before he
was killed."

"Look, if you want to leave, I'll
understand," Lydia told her friend.

Carter concurred. "I think you'd be wise to
do just that."

Suzanne frowned. "Are you kidding? Lydia's
my friend and I won't abandon her when she needs me." She paused
and glanced at Lydia. "Besides, we still have something to
celebrate now that you're out of jail."

Carter doubted there would be much
celebrating if Lydia's future was cut short by an assassin's
bullet. But who was he to deprive two friends of a little
celebratory drink for one victory achieved?

* * *

The shooter watched and waited. There were
now three people in the room. A woman had joined them. All three
were holding drinks, with the new woman talking, holding the
attention of the others.

The shooter focused the rifle on each
person, moving back and forth, before settling on one.

It was time to finish the assignment once
and for all.

* * *

"So what happens with your book now?"
Suzanne asked.

Lydia sighed. "As far as I know, nothing's
changed. The publisher already has three-quarters of the
manuscript. The rest is due by the end of the month, assuming this
situation with my dead source doesn't complicate matters."

"I think that's the least of your concerns,"
Carter said. "Staying alive should be your top priority."

Lydia sipped wine and took a bite of her
turkey sandwich. "It is."

"And that's what makes this so difficult,"
Suzanne said. She put her drink on the windowsill and pulled a gun
from her pocket, swiveling in one motion toward Carter. She shot
him once in the chest as he went for his own gun.

Carter fell to the floor before he was shot
again.

Lydia's eyes widened with shock and horror.
"What the hell have you done?"

Suzanne scowled. "I've gotten rid of the DEA
agent who would've tried to stop me from completing my
mission."

Lydia had to wrap her mind around what she
didn't want to believe. "Are you saying—?"

Suzanne nodded. "I was hired by Antonio
Escobero to take out the snitch Javier Whitman, and the journalist
he confided in."

Lydia suddenly found herself staring at the
barrel of a gun. Carter wasn't moving and she feared he was dead.
She would be next. Everything she'd worked for in life would be
wasted.

"You don't have to do this, Suzanne," she
pleaded. "We're friends."

"It was my job to get close to you and see
what Whitman had divulged about the cartel." Suzanne gazed at
Lydia. "For what it's worth, this isn't personal. Maybe in another
life we could have really been friends. Goodbye, Lydia."

At that moment, Muffin streaked across the
floor, momentarily distracting Suzanne. Lydia took the opportunity
to lunge at her and wrestle for control of the gun.

Lydia smashed her fist into Suzanne's jaw,
causing her to see stars and loosen her grip on the gun. Yanking it
away, Suzanne pointed the gun at Lydia's face.

Closing her eyes, Lydia waited for the end
to come. Suddenly she heard glass shattering.

Lydia opened her eyes and saw Suzanne
crumple to the floor, her face half blown away. Turning to the
window, or what was left of it, Lydia realized the shot had come
from outside.

Could there be two assassins?

Expecting another shot directed at her,
Lydia went down to the floor. She heard Carter moan.

He was still alive.

She crawled over to him, wondering if she
would have another death on her hands.

Carter winced. "Are you all right?"

"Yes."

"And your friend?"

"Suzanne's dead." Lydia glanced at the hit
woman whose head was surrounded by a pool of blood. She turned back
to Carter. "You're hurt. I have to call 911."

"Don't bother." He moaned and unbuttoned his
shirt, revealing a bulletproof vest. "She just knocked the wind out
of me. I'll be okay."

Lydia gave a sigh of relief. When Muffin
cautiously walked up to them, she could see how frightened the cat
was, reminding Lydia that they weren't out of danger yet. Escobero
still wanted her dead and someone out there may have already taken
Suzanne's place as the killer.

* * *

The shooter hit the mark with precision,
watching through the scope as the woman calling herself Suzanne
Pratt took a bullet to the head and went down instantly. He had no
doubt she was dead, giving him extreme satisfaction.

The bitch would never again use her skills
to take away other lives for pay. He had seen to that. It was only
fitting that she got what she dished out before adding yet another
victim to her list.

He put the gun back in its case and made his
way off the rooftop.

There was still one piece of unfinished
business to take care of.

* * *

"Tina Martin was her real name," Carter told
Lydia a week later in the hotel room that was her temporary
residence.

"You mean Suzanne?"

"Yeah, and she had at least half a dozen
other aliases. She was a real piece of work and very lethal. She's
been connected to ten known assassinations over the past three
years. No telling how many others we don't know about."

Lydia shook her head. "I just can't believe
I trusted her as a friend."

"You and many others. She used it to her
advantage by getting to know everything about her targets until it
was time to eliminate them." Carter sat down on the edge of the
bed. "But her luck finally ran out at the same time yours picked up
steam."

Lydia counted her blessings, which included
Devlin Carter, whom she'd become involved with following the close
call that had brought them closer.

"Any word on the shooter?" she asked.

"Still on the loose," Carter said. "We've
got a description of a man seen running from the building where we
believe the shot came from. The general feeling is that he was
hired to kill Martin because she either failed to complete a job in
a timely manner or as payback because she had earned her pay."

Lydia met his eyes. "Could he be on
Escobero's payroll?"

Carter shook his head. "Not likely. If he'd
wanted you dead, you would be. He could have taken a shot at you
through that window any time he'd wanted. Obviously he had one
thing in mind and, fortunately for us, he succeeded."

Lydia took a breath. She was safe for now.
But there was still the matter of testifying against Antonio
Escobero, who would rather see her dead before she took the
stand.

Other than Carter, who could she trust?
After Suzanne's monumental betrayal, Lydia was afraid to let her
guard down for fear of being stung again. She would need time to
come to grips with what had happened. Only then could she move
forward.

In the meantime, she was happy that Carter
was there to help protect her and give her the confidence she would
need to get through this.

But knowing that Escobero would not stop his
vendetta simply because his hired assassin was dead continued to
gnaw at Lydia. Even in custody, he still yielded power, and would
likely come after her again.

Lydia felt helpless to do anything about
it.

* * *

The shooter positioned himself in the window
of an apartment across from the courthouse. He had a bird's eye
view of the entrance. There were people milling about as if this
was a spectator sport. He panned the gathering through the scope,
honing in on Lydia Muldaur and the DEA agent at her side.

After studying them for a moment, he turned
his attention to the Mercedes that pulled up. A woman exited,
accompanied by bodyguards. She was in her early thirties,
attractive, and well dressed. She dodged questions and headed to
the courthouse.

The shooter refocused on the witness, Lydia
Muldaur, who began to climb the steps alongside DEA Agent
Carter.

It was time to finish what he'd started.

The shooter turned the rifle back on the
other woman. Though flanked by burly bodyguards, he still had an
easy view of her.

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