John Steel Collection - Books 1-3

Chapter 17

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The parking lot was dark, with just a few hints of light dotted here and there. McCall had parked here for years because it was the only one within walking distance of the station.

The collection of cars looked more abandoned than parked, but it was cheap and secure, so who cared. In the distance was her car, Its ancient, faded paintwork glinting under the light of the spot lamp, which gave it an almost welcoming glow.

Walking towards the beloved 1966 Mustang, originally belonging to her father, her mind was entirely occupied by the case. The darkness of the lot had never bothered her; hell, she knew she could take care of herself, and Sam McCall was armed, so if anyone screwed with her, she could sort it. McCall stopped at her car door and reached into her jacket pocket for the keys. Suddenly, she felt the cold steel of a pistol pressed against her neck as she was pushed forward against the car. There was a slam as her face met the glass of the door. She heard laughter from behind her.

‘Well boys, lookie what we got here, my oh my, ain’t y’all a Purdie little thang!’ said a Southern voice behind her. She was overwhelmed by the rank smell of his sweat, making her want to gag.

‘OK, darling, y’all put your purdie little hands on the car and spread ’em.’ Said the man.

She heard other men in the background giggling like school kids. She reckoned that there were possibly two others there from the sound, but precisely where they were. She had no idea.

McCall stood rigid, refusing to budge and got a smack on the side of the head with his big, fatty elbow for her disobedience.

‘I said, put your goddamn hands on the car and spread ’em, b***h!’

Under duress, she obeyed, and then she felt his hands moving slowly up her legs towards her crotch.

‘Now I gotta search y’all just in case yer packin.’

He jammed his hand between her legs and moved it back and forth. ‘Bet y’all like that, doncha! We gonna do some more of that, ain’t we,’ he giggled.

McCall kicked backwards and caught the man in the face. She heard him let out an agonising, ‘Oomph,’ then, turning quickly, McCall aimed to strike another blow, only to receive a smack to the head. She was thrown head-first against the car’s roof. Despite seeing stars, she forced herself to stay standing.

‘Listen, I’m a police officer,’ she yelled. ‘And I know you don’t want to do anything stupid, so we can avoid a situation if you all leave now. So why don’t you just put down the gun and….’

A swift punch to her kidneys answered McCall’s question, leaving her breathless for a moment.

‘So, we got us an itty-bitty cop, have we? Well, don’t that just sweeten the deal? Ain’t never done me a cop before.’

McCall tried to lash out again, and once again, he banged her head against the car.

‘Well boys, we got a feisty one here; I’m gunna lurve breakin’ her in,’ he said, laughing.

But his was the only laughter she heard.

‘Hey, where y’all fuckers got to?’ He turned around to look. ‘What the…?’ His voice betrayed his surprise and shock.

McCall felt the pressure from the gun loosen and knew it was her only chance. McCall spun round. As she moved, she round housed the thug, catching him full in the stomach.

The fat hillbilly grunted in pain as his massive frame bent double from the impact. McCall followed through with a mighty upwards kick, sending a fountain of teeth and blood.

Three unconscious hillbillies lay before her, and a figure sauntering away in the distance. His features were blurring into the darkness.

McCall could make out a long coat like a ship’s flag in the wind.

‘Hey, you!’ she shouted.

But the man didn’t slow or turn but faded into the night.

McCall kept her gun pointed at the unconscious hillbillies at her feet as she pulled out her phone. She needed to call the precinct. But all the while, she was thinking, Oh, I can’t wait to explain this. McCall thought about all the s**t she would get from her colleagues in the department. But McCall comforted herself that at least these three morons would spend the night in lockup until morning. Then, tomorrow, she fully intended to show them that it is not wise to mess with this woman.

After speaking to the desk Sergeant, McCall looked up to see five burly uniformed officers rushing out of the precinct. She put her phone away after speaking to the desk Sergeant. McCall followed them in and filled out the report. It was the last thing she needed to do, but she knew she had to do it right, or the assholes would walk on a technicality.

McCall climbed into her car and drove home, the thought of that bath becoming ever more blissful.

When she arrived at her apartment, McCall threw off her jacket and shoes, made a beeline for the bathroom and drew a bath, ensuring that the water was laced with plenty of foam. Then, she slipped into the deeply filled tub as she listened to the sounds of jazz wafting from her stereo system.