Bryan Smith - The Killing Kind

Roxie seethed. “Rob. Pay attention. I’m starting to get pissed. Now think about that a minute. You really want me to lose it right here in the middle of this store?”

Rob groaned.

“AHHHHHHH!”

Julie couldn’t take it anymore. The scream just came out. It was a full-volume blast of rage and exasperation. Probably not the brightest thing she’d ever done, given that they were supposedly trying to avoid attention. But the nearly identical shocked expressions on her companions’ faces were totally worth it.

A lean black man in spectacles and a Walgreens vest poked his head in the aisle and said, “There a problem?”

Roxie summoned a high-wattage smile and batted her eyes at him. “No, sir. Just having a little disagreement. We’ll keep the volume down, I promise.”

His expression conveyed doubt, but after a pause he gave a terse nod. “If you need any help, let me know. My name’s Tod and I’m the manager.”

Roxie kept smiling. “Thanks so much.”

Tod turned and left them without another word.

Roxie sneered. “Gay.”

Rob shook his head. “Let me guess. Any guy who doesn’t fall down drooling at your feet is queer, right?”

“Obviously.”

“What about the frat boy you’re planning to-”

Roxie slapped a hand over his mouth. “Shut up. Fuck’s sake, Rob, you know not to talk about that shit where people might hear.”

Rob pushed her hand away. “And why should I care? Like it matters. Like there’s any way this thing ends in anything other than total disaster.”

Their voices had been rising again and Julie was unsurprised to see Tod the manager reappear at the end of the aisle. “Ladies. Sir. Please keep it down. You’re disturbing the other customers. If it continues, I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Roxie’s brow creased. “What? Seriously? There aren’t any other customers.”

Tod’s expression remained stern. “Nonetheless. This is my store. So, respectfully, please be quiet. I won’t ask again.”

He retreated again.

Roxie scowled. “That miserable little-”

“Fuck this shit.”

Julie started walking away from them.

Roxie called after her. “Hey! Where are you going?”

Julie stalked quickly down the aisle and soon saw the automatic doors at the front of the store come into view. “Outside for some fresh fucking air. Problem with that?”

The door opened and she stepped out into the cool night air. The door whisked shut behind her, mercifully blocking the sounds of the ongoing feud. She moved a few yards down the sidewalk and dug into her purse for a pack of Marlboro menthols. The cop car pulled into the parking lot just as she was lighting up. The headlights hit her and she felt frozen to the spot.

Aw, shit. This just fucking figures.

She lit the cigarette and inhaled as the cruiser pulled smoothly into the spot directly facing her.

Well, this is it. Game over. Time to go home.

Or to jail.

Whatever.

The car idled there for more than a minute. Julie squinted against the headlight glare and was able to make out the shape of a big man behind the wheel. He didn’t appear to be doing anything other than just staring at her. She smoked the cigarette down to the butt and thought about lighting another. But she was too spooked to reach into her purse again. Too afraid to move at all. Finally, after several minutes, the driver-side door opened and a big man in a uniform stepped out. He was really buff, filling out his striped trousers and crisply pressed shirt in interesting ways. He saw her looking and smiled, an expression that lit up a face that was just shy of handsome. His eyes were a little too close together and his lips were too thin, but he had a strong jawline. Given the rest of the package, the face was more than passable.

The cop slammed the cruiser’s door shut and stepped up onto the sidewalk. The car’s engine was still running, the key still in the ignition. How arrogant was that? Fucking cops.

“Evenin’.”

Julie smiled. “Hey.”

The cop stroked his chin with a thumb and forefinger as he walked in a slow circle around her, looking her up and down. “Mmm…”

Julie swiveled her head but didn’t turn as he circled her again. “See anything you like?”

He moved in close behind her, leaned down some, and pushed his crotch against her ass, letting her feel his enormous erection. His hands gripped her by the waist. “Feel something I like.” He chuckled, his breath warm and stinking of whiskey. “Like to break me off a piece.”

Julie did a slow grind against his crotch. “Yeah. Maybe I’ll let you. Mmm…but what about the surveillance equipment in your cruiser?”

He kissed the back of her head and slid rough fingers under the silky fabric of her halter. “The…what?”

“You know. The video camera. Like on Cops?”

“Um…”

“Isn’t this the kind of thing you could get in trouble for?”

“I don’t know. Is it?”

His hands moved to her breasts and gave them a none-too-gentle squeeze. She faked a groan of pleasure and said, “Yeah. Like that. I don’t know. I guess I just thought soliciting a prostitute was still a crime in most places.”

“That what you are, girl? A whore?”

Julie wiggled against him. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

The cop laughed. “Yeah. Knew you were a pro. Can spot ’em a mile away. You’re fresher meat than I usually see, though. You can’t be any more than, what, seventeen?”

She giggled. “Almost.”

He made a low sound deep in his throat. A hungry sound. “Don’t worry about the, uh, surveillance equipment. I turned that shit off the second I saw you.”

“Oh, good.”

Julie had slipped a hand back inside her purse while he was preoccupied with the task of molesting her. She turned around as her hand came out of the purse and thrust herself against him, half-feigning lust again as she got her right hand up and ready to strike. Half-feigning, because she actually was sort of turned on. He did have a dynamite body. It was kind of a shame, really.

He grabbed her ass and pulled her tighter against him. “Gonna tear your pussy up, girl.”

Julie slammed the big hunting knife into his side, jerked it out, and slammed it in again.

Then again.

And again.

The strikes were rapid, all happening within a few seconds, too fast for him to react efficiently. He shoved her away, causing her to stumble backward on the sidewalk and land hard on her ass. She bounced up and came back at him cobra fast, jamming the knife into his neck as he fumbled for his gun, his weakening fingers unable to get a good grip on the holstered weapon. She pulled the knife out and a gout of blood splashed her chest.

The cop wobbled a moment before crashing to the sidewalk, where he convulsed and spilled blood all over the white concrete. Julie wiped the blood-soaked knife on her shorts and put it back in her purse. The cop was clearly dying and no longer a threat. Julie got down on her hands and knees and rolled him off the sidewalk. She gripped him by his thick ankles and tugged him around so that he fit lengthwise inside the parking space to the immediate left of the cruiser, adjusting his feet so the toes didn’t point straight up. She had to hide the body, at least temporarily, and there was only one way to do it. He was too damn big to drag off behind the building. Someone else would surely come along and see what was happening before she could manage that.

She reached for the handle on the driver-side door.

Mouth agape, she stopped and stared at the emblem on the door.

In the middle of a seal were two words in bold letters:

MALL SECURITY

Julie couldn’t believe it. “Oh. My. Fucking. God!”

The guy she’d just killed wasn’t a real cop at all. She suddenly felt very stupid. There had been some obvious subtleties that should have tipped her to the truth of the situation. The bit about the surveillance equipment seemed particularly telling. At some point the guy realized she’d mistaken him for a real cop and decided to take advantage of that.