Deluge (The Best Thrillers Book 2) by James Best (ebook reader with built in dictionary .txt) 📕

wall. He expected the next gangbanger to lift his gun over the half-wall to fire his automatic weapon blindly. He waited, intending to shoot the shotgun through the wall as soon as he saw any kind of outside movement. Then a greater fear hit him. The smart move would be to stay away from the vestibule and, from a distance, riddle the entire space with bullets. Under that scenario, he would have to expose himself to return fire. He listened for hushed words, crushing glass, or even a heavy footfall.

When the noise came, it didn’t frighten him. He heard sirens. Lots of them. Loud. And close. And they sounded urgent and angry. Damn. He’d instructed them to come in like 2nd Armored Cavalry, but he hadn’t thought they’d take him literally.

Evarts risked a peek over the edge and saw gangbangers scattering in every direction. Their numbers depleted, they’d evidently decided on retreat. Instead of jumping up, Evarts waddled back into the lobby. He saw no benefit in being killed by friendly fire. He assumed he would be safest with the night shift.

When he burst into the lobby, the hotel staff jumped so high, they almost took out a few ceiling tiles.

“Sorry, I’m police. We need to get away from the open windows. This may not be over.”

One of the women pointed at a room, and they all charged toward it. When Evarts followed the last one in, he saw no exit. The large room served as a buffet breakfast area, with numerous tables that would seat two or four. He flipped the lights off and knocked over one of the tables for cover. He laid the almost-empty shotgun aside and aimed his Glock at the doorway.

“One of you, use a chair and break the glass in one of those windows.” When he heard nothing, he yelled, “Now! Throw a chair at it!”

When he heard glass breaking, he added more calmly, “If you hear gunfire, go out that window. Otherwise, hunker down behind a table. The police have arrived, but the gang members are running in every direction. You’re safest staying put. Whatever happens, follow police commands immediately.”

Evarts took a deep breath and listened.

He heard a woman’s voice from behind him. “Is that shotgun empty?”

“Two shells,” he answered.

“May I use it?”

He glanced back to see cowering men and one forceful-looking woman, probably ten years his senior.

“What would you do with it?” Evarts asked.

“Blow the fuck out of anyone who sticks his head through that window.”

“Not a good idea. It could be a cop.”

After a pause, she said, “I’ll watch the door with the shotgun, and you watch the window.”

That made sense. He was trained and less likely to shoot one of his officers, and his men would announce themselves before bursting into the room.

“Okay.”

They switched places.

“Have you ever fired a shotgun?” Evarts asked.

“I’ve killed more birds than I can count, but I hope you have something besides birdshot in this gun.”

“Double-aught.”

“That’ll do,” she said.

Chapter 34

“Henry, stop that!” Wilson screamed. “I told you, you can’t spend the night on my stoop.”

The man who had jumped at Baldwin ran down the street, trailing a grotesque odor of stale sweat, urine, and tobacco.

“Sorry,” Wilson said. “Henry’s harmless, but he’s a pest. He’s one of our neighborhood homeless. Since he knows I’m gone a lot, he likes my stoop.”

Baldwin tried to catch her breath. Henry had scared the hell out of her. Her nose detected another unpleasant smell coming from the corner of the wrought-iron enclosed space. A dark pile confirmed her fear, and she made a mental note to avoid stepping in that direction.

Wilson unlocked her door, which required two keys. She flipped on a light and waved everyone inside. The size and décor of the one-room basement apartment surprised Baldwin. Close to a thousand square feet, the flat was decorated with Victorian antiques and accented with bright colored wall hangings, drapes, and bedspread. Even the red appliances along the wall that served as a kitchen added a brightness to the almost windowless studio. Despite the coziness, Baldwin had difficulty accepting that strange, unclean men lurked just outside the door. If this were her home, she would exit with a Taser at the ready every time. San Francisco flaunted their open-minded reputation, but sharing one’s home with the indigent did not appeal to Baldwin. She grew up as an only child, but wanting control of her space ran deeper than surface conditioning.

After admiring Wilson’s decorating skill, Baldwin noted the sleeping quarters. Thick area rugs covered hardwood floors. Like everything else in the apartment, they appeared spick and span. She must have been tired, because an expanse of rug looked downright appealing. She pointed at a door towards the back, and Wilson nodded. She wanted to wash her face, use the toilet, and brush her teeth.

By the time she came out, Wilson had stacked blankets on top of the bed.

“Sorry I can’t be a better hostess, but this is all I have,” Wilson said. “Grab a blanket and throw pillow and stake out your territory on the rug.”

“Sherrell, this is wonderful,” Baldwin said. “No rug ever looked so inviting. Sorry, all I could think about when we came in was the bathroom. This is a lovely place. I can’t believe how cozy you’ve made it.”

“Thanks. I’m here less than half the time, but when I am, my hobby is shopping antique and home accessory stores.”

They heard a snort, which sounded like it might be the start of a snoring episode. Ashley had collapsed in the only easy chair in the room and had apparently already fallen asleep.

Baldwin laughed. “Oh, no, is Jon a snorer?”

“I have no idea,” Wilson said. “Oh … you’re asking because we slept together, but we didn’t sleep. It was literally a quickie. Jon’s nice enough, but it’s not something I wish to repeat.”

Smith came barreling out of the bathroom. “Next.” When he saw their surprised expressions, he said, “Hey, what are you girls gossiping about?”

“Not you, Tom,” Baldwin said.

“Perhaps