High Risk by G.K. Parks (thriller book recommendations txt) 📗

“Police. Freeze.” I blinked against the flashing lights. Footsteps sounded against the tile floor, and a glass bottle shattered to my right. I aimed at the sound and reached for the LED flashlight hanging from my keychain. I clicked it on. “Throw down your weapons and come out with your hands up. If you surrender, you will not be harmed.”

I edged to the side, keeping my back against the shelf as I approached the middle aisle. At first, I didn’t see anything, but with the flashing lights it was hard to see. And then I heard whispers from across the room and to my left.

I moved toward the voices, surprised when the emergency lights suddenly shut off and the room was plunged into darkness. The only illumination came from the lights inside the glass refrigerated cases and a single neon sign hanging above one of the coolers. The shrill squeal of rubber soles against the tile floor alerted me to movement, and I swiveled toward it, catching a glimpse of a man in the beam of my flashlight.

He stood near the register, one hand on the control panel behind the counter. A moment later, the shrieking, repetitive warning beep stopped.

“Let me see your hands,” I said, keeping one eye on him while I scanned the rest of the store for signs of his accomplice. He spun around to face me, a plastic Halloween mask covering his face. “I said put your hands up.” He had dark hair too, just like the man who fired on me earlier.

“Is there a problem, officer?” the offender asked, his voice gravelly. “Shouldn’t you be in uniform?”

“I’m not on duty.”

He snickered. “I knew this place had a mess of first responders who liked to drop by.” He turned his left wrist so he could see the time. “Aren’t you a bit early? Shift’s not over for another couple of hours. Was it a slow night?” He moved sideways, away from the register, and backed against the nearest shelf. “Do you want to come over here and frisk me?”

This felt like a trap. “Where’s your friend?”

The guy laughed again. “You’re all alike. Afraid. Pathetic.” His words dripped disgust. “What the hell makes you think you’re any better than anyone else?”

“Stop moving,” I ordered.

“Make me.” He grabbed one of the large bottles from behind him and held it in the air, as if he intended to throw it at me.

But I didn’t move toward him. Instead, I took a step closer to the front door. They wouldn’t get out this way, but now I had to worry about his accomplice escaping out the back. Where was my backup?

“No,” he taunted, taking a step closer, “you won’t make me. You’re scared. You’re alone and frightened. That’s always when they attack. When no one else is around to see it or step in. When no one else can come to help. It’s pathetic,” he screamed, spittle flying from the opening in the plastic mask. “You coward.”

“Sir, drop the bottle.”

“Oh, this?” He looked at it as if he had no idea how it’d gotten into his hand. “Well, okay.” It shattered on the floor.

“Who are they?” I asked, edging just slightly closer.

Before he could answer, another bottle shattered two aisles away. I kept my gun aimed at the first suspect but pointed my flashlight toward where the sound originated. Just as I did that, the bastard near the register knocked over a display, causing numerous bottles to crash to the floor. Glass and liquor shot out in all directions.

I turned to face him, pointing my gun in his face. “Hands on your head. Get on your knees. I won’t ask twice.”

He put his hands on his head and slowly knelt down, wincing as he did so. “Y’know, I got a bad knee.”

“Interlock your fingers,” I ordered, afraid to turn my back on him and even more afraid not to turn around to search for his friend. As soon as his fingers were laced together, I moved toward him, letting my flashlight dangle while I reached for my cuffs.

He wasn’t armed, but the shop owner said the man had a gun. Was this his friend? It didn’t make sense, but I’d get that sorted later. Right now, every instinct told me I was in trouble.

I just tightened the first bracelet and maneuvered his other arm around and clicked it in place when something knocked into me. My gun and flashlight slid across the floor, thrusting me into darkness.

Twenty-five

I dragged myself off the floor, blindly feeling for my weapon. I spotted the small cone of light rolling back and forth from my flashlight, but I couldn’t get to it. Not with these bastards so close. I just had to hope if I couldn’t see them, they couldn’t see me.

“What’s a matter, baby? Scared of the dark?” the one with the gravelly voice taunted.

“Stay where you are,” I commanded.

His laugh was joined by that of another man. I felt behind me, finding a solid shelf. At least that would provide some protection and limit the direction of their attacks. The rattle of the handcuffs sounded at my ten o’clock. He was close. Too close.

“Don’t move. On your knees.” I kept my head on a swivel, glimpsing dim shadows cast by the neon sign near the coolers. I could make out the form of a man, but I couldn’t be certain if he was getting closer. I needed a weapon, specifically my gun. Both of the men were taller and bigger than I was. They’d taken out security guards. I wasn’t sure I’d stand a chance in a fair fight. And they sure as hell didn’t fight fair. I tried to move silently toward the exit, and that’s when I spotted his accomplice. They had boxed me in. They didn’t come here