Conflict of Interest

Chapter Forty One

Kim

Upon learning whose voice it was, Carrie laughed. I didn't recognize it, but though it may have been prejudiced and misguided, it being a female voice assuaged my initial fear.

"Points for creativity," she whispered, "But I'm not alone."

"Bonus points," the other voice said.

"Though I appreciate the enthusiasm, I'm not into ménages à trois."

"What a relief," she said, right before I heard the unmistakable sound of the safety being released on a revolver. "Neither am I."

I reached for the lights. I didn't have time to properly assess the situation. It didn't have time to register exactly that there was a gun and it was trained on Carrie. It wasn't yet a personal moment, but a procedural one. As I'd been trained, when a person with a gun gives instructions, you listen. You don't cause a commotion; you move slowly and rationally.

Once in the light, I made the recognition that Carrie had already made in the dark, ever a step ahead of me. This wasn't some unknown assailant; it was someone we both had met. It was her neighbor.

Lindsay McVale.

"Pause," I said coolly. "Put the weapon down."

She almost surprised me by laughing, but the one time I'd met her she'd been nothing short of all smiles.

"What are you, the bodyguard?"

"The police," I corrected, drawing my own service weapon. "Place it on the floor."

"I don't think I want to," she said. "You see, this is kind of the moment I've been waiting for so please understand that I'm not going to give it up so easily."

My gaze shifted for the first time to Carrie, who for whatever reason did not emote that she was in mortal danger. Not that I was shocked.

"Caroline, lock the door, please."

"Don't tell me what to do."

I sighed. Headstrong in the face of a threat on her life. "Do it, Carrie, don't be stupid."

"Don't call me stupid."

She was really unbelievable. She slid the lock anyway.

"So what are we doing here, exactly?" she said, sounding bored.

"Let's go with finishing up some business," Lindsay said, not dropping her revolver from chest level. "Sit, we'll talk about it."

She swallowed. "I don't think I want to-"

"Sit," she said.

"Carrie," I said. "Sit the hell down and stop being a little shit. She has a gun, or do you not realize?"

"Yes, I realize, but I don't like her tone."

"Are you fucking-"

"You sit too," she said.

"Okay," I said, much more docile than Carrie could manage. "Let's just talk this out."

"Put your gun down."

"Yeah," I said uncomfortably. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"I could kill you right now and take it from your dead hands," she offered.

"You could," I noted. "But my reflexes are pretty good at this point in my career, so if you pull that trigger I could just pull mine, then you and I would be dead, but my friend Caroline here would escape, and then your end objective would just kind of be blown to shit, so..."