Karen Rose - Count to Ten

Mia blew out a breath. "God, this day just keeps getting better and better."

Thursday, November 30, 9:15 p.m.

He got off the El two stops later and walked right to a little Ford, his slim-jim in his hand. A wiggle and a pop later he was behind the wheel and thirty seconds after that, driving down the road, his backpack on the seat beside him.

Once again out of the public eye. He'd sat on the train, wondering who was watching him, comparing his face to the photo they'd shown on the news. He'd been cool headed, not shrinking into his seat but not meeting anyone's eye. Normal.

Had he got her? Was Mitchell dead, brains splattered all over the pavement? He wasn't sure. His bullet had come close. But he'd come too close to getting caught, that was for damn sure. Solliday had seen him. Recognized him. His ruse had failed.

So step back. Stay out of public for a while. Do what you need to do tonight and tomorrow, hightail it out of town. Find the last four, then you're done .

Thursday, November 30, 9:15 p.m.

"Just put the gun down slowly," Mia said.

The woman did, placing her weapon gently on the sidewalk. "You got hit," she said.

Mia holstered her own service piece. "A scratch."

Two cruisers pulled up and Mia looked over her shoulder. Four more followed.

"I'll take care of it," Solliday said. "I'll get them organized in a roadblock."

"Thanks," she murmured, then turned back to the woman. "Let's have it." She took the woman's badge and held it up to the light. "Olivia Sutherland. Minneapolis PD."

Sutherland's mouth curved, that same self-mocking smile. "Hey, sis."

Mia gave her back her badge. "Why didn't you just come talk to me? Why have you been following me around for weeks? Are you trying to make me flicking nuts?"

"I wasn't trying to make you… nuts. I didn't know if I wanted to talk to you. I didn't know if I wanted to know you. I kind of thought I wouldn't."

Mia waited a half beat before inclining her head. "And that would be because !"

She shrugged. "He wanted you. Not me. Your mother. Not mine."

Mia blinked. Then laughed. "You're kidding, right?"

The mocking smile disappeared. "I wouldn't dream of it."

Obviously someone had painted this woman a much rosier picture of Bobby Mitchell than he deserved. "Let's start again. Olivia Sutherland, thank you for saving my ass."

The little smile came back. "I was hoping you'd noticed."

"Why did you?"

She shrugged. "I didn't want to like you. I wanted to hate your guts. But I watched you and realized I might have a few things wrong. I was set to leave this afternoon when I saw your address published in this morning's paper."

She frowned. "You need to do something about that woman, you know. That Carmichael woman is poison."

"Yeah. I kind of got that. So… you've been hanging here all day?"

"Off and on. Mostly on. I thought if you came home, I'd say hi and good-bye. But you don't come home very often."

"I know. I usually hang at friends' houses."

"The redhead at the funeral?"

"She's one. Look, I want to talk to you, but I've got to take care of this." She gestured over her shoulder to where Solli-day had a map spread out on the hood of one of the cruisers, setting up the roadblocks.

Sutherland smiled. "When things settle down, we can talk."

When things settle down . Suddenly the phrase smacked Mia in the face. She'd lost too many things because she'd waited for things to settle down. Now here was an opportunity that might not come again. "No, because they never will. How old are you?"

Sutherland blinked. "Twenty-nine." Then she smiled. "You're rude to ask."

Mia smiled back. "I know. Can you stick around for a few more days?"

"No. I had some time saved up, took some leave, but my captain is after me to come back. I have to go home."

"Just another day. Please. I didn't know you existed until three weeks ago. We obviously have a few things in common, besides Bobby. Where are you staying?"

Sutherland studied Mia's face, then nodded. "Mother moved to Minnesota after I was born, but my aunt still lives here. I'm staying with her." She scrawled an address and a phone number on the back of her card. "I know where you live."

"Not for a few days. I'll be on the move most likely. But here's my cell." She gave Sutherland a card, watched her pocket it, then thoughtfully raise her eyes.

"I lived my life wishing I was you. Hating you. You're not who I thought you'd be."

"Sometimes I even surprise myself," Mia said wryly. "Now we're going to have to take your statement. The guy you scared off has killed four women."

Her blue eyes widened and it was like looking into a mirror. "Then that's…?"

Little sister read the papers. "Yeah. Come on. Let's get to work."

Thursday, November 30, 10:00 p.m.

Math Boy was gone. Reed silently fumed as he watched the police go door to door. So close. He'd come so close. He could see the bastard's leering face. His triumphant grin when he knew he'd gotten away. If he'd been another step faster…

"If you keep frowning like that, your face will stay that way," Mia said and leaned against his SUV next to him.

"I had him in my hands." He gritted his teeth. "Dammit. I almost had him."

"'Almost' only counts in hand grenades and horseshoes," she said. "We're wasting our time, Reed. He's not going to stick around here. He's gone."

"I know," he said bitterly.

"I'm wondering why he did this at all. Why me?"

Reed shrugged. "We're getting close and he knows it. Besides, if he knows your address, he also knows you were shot at Tuesday night."

She lifted her fingers to her cheek where an EMT had placed two stitches to close the skin the bullet had grazed. "A distraction."

"Mia!"

As one they turned to find Jack by the door of her apartment building. He held a bullet in the palm of his hand. "If he'd been a fraction of an inch more on target…"

As it had multiple times in the last hour, Reed's blood went cold. A fraction of an inch more and the bullet would have plowed into the base of her skull rather than skim the surface of her cheek. A fraction of an inch and he might have lost her.

"Yeah, yeah," she said. "I'd be dead. Thanks, Jack."

"Actually," Jack said dryly, "it probably would have bounced off your damn hard head. Sometimes I wish you weren't so lucky. You're starting to think you are bulletproof. And you're not."

No, she wasn't. Reed swallowed back the fear that rose in his throat every time his mind replayed the scene of her dropping to the pavement. "Jack, we're beat. Can Mia pack her bag and get out of here?"

Jack eyed him shrewdly and Reed knew the phone calls between Abe and Aidan and Jack hadn't just been about trading phone numbers. "Yeah. Watch her back until she gets… to where she's going."

They all looked around at that, each one realizing that the walls potentially had ears.

"I will." Reed held open the door to her apartment building. "Let's get your bag packed." He waited until she'd unlocked her front door, then pushed her inside and up against the door, his heart pounding. He covered her mouth with his, too hard and too desperate. But in a second it didn't matter because her arms were around his neck and she was kissing him back, just as hard and just as desperate.

He pulled away, breathing as hard as he had when he'd chased the scum-sucking murdering asshole toad. "Thanks. I needed that," she whispered.

He rested his forehead on hers. "Dammit, Mia. I was so…"

She drew a breath. "Yeah. Me, too."

He stepped back and she looked up at him, awareness in her eyes. "Pack fast. I want you out of here." Then, unable to resist, he cupped her cheek and gently traced his thumb below the stitches. "I want you, period. Come home with me."