Jamie Garrett - Riley Reid 01 - Jesters and Junkies by Jamie Garrett Page B

and broccoli.
    “I’m not entirely sure. I should probably talk to Dennis’s girlfriend. She’s most likely to have known him best. The poor gal might have some insights that could prove useful.”
    “Awesome.” Lisa got up and wiped off her hands on some napkins. She proceeded to head towards the bathroom.
    I remained at the table and finished my dinner. When I was done, I leaned back and started to nurse the bottle of beer I had with my meal. The night was going to be one for rest. At least that was the plan.
    All the lights suddenly went off. On instinct, I retrieved my gun. Once armed, I went to the window. Lisa and I were on the second floor. That was where I spent most of my time working on cases. The first floor was meant to meet with clients. There were couches and chairs, and it was significantly cleaner.
    Out the window I saw an old Nissan parked across the street. It was Marty’s car. Next to it was a menacing-looking black SUV. No one was inside either vehicle. I figured they must’ve already been inside the building.
    “What happened to the damn lights!” I could hear Lisa inside the bathroom.
    “Quiet,” I whispered back.
    Lisa didn’t hear me. “What!”
    I got closer, just outside the bathroom door. “Just shut up and stay in there. Someone’s broken in.”
    There were audible footsteps downstairs. Luckily there was only one way up. A single narrow stairwell was the intruders’ only way to get to us. So I lay down in front of the first step and aimed my revolver downwards.
    “I have a gun! And I’ve called the cops!” I yelled as loud as possible. Even though only one of those two warnings was true (couldn’t find my phone in the dark), I hoped it’d discourage or scare away the intruders. It did not.
    A white mask peeked around the corner of the stairwell, only showing the creepy plastic rabbit facade. It retreated before I could get a shot off. The thin, porous walls and floor made their conversation below louder than they thought. One of them was going to try to come upstairs.
    I let the white-rabbit-masked man to get about a quarter of the way up the stairs before shooting. With plenty of time and higher ground, it was easy to aim for his leg. My bullet tore through his shin. He screamed as the bone shattered and made him lose his balance. The intruder fell down the stairs.
    “She fucking shot me!” yelled the injured masked man.
    “Relax.” A pair of arms became exposed to drag its friend out of the stairwell. The voice belonged to Marty. I’d recognize that awful, put-on accent anywhere.
    “Was that a gun shot!?” Lisa didn’t listen to me and came out of the bathroom.
    “Didn’t I tell you to stay in the bathroom?”
    “But I heard gunshots.”
    “So you run towards them?”
    Lisa kneeled down next to me. “Did you get him?”
    “Only one of them.”
    “How many are there?”
    It was a good question. I had heard a couple of different voices. But that didn’t necessarily mean anything. There could be three intruders or ten. “I don’t know.”
    “Shouldn’t we get out of here?”
    “I’d love to. Do you have any suggestions?”
    Lisa looked around. There was no real way out, except for one of the windows. It opened up to the rooftop of the abandoned building next door. All the buildings downtown were connected to each other. Stone Harbor had no alleyways.
    “The window!” Lisa pointed at the aforementioned window.
    It was a good plan. I kept my gun trained downstairs for a minute, just to make sure no one would try to come up again. They didn’t. So I got up and joined my best friend near the window.
    I opened the window and took a look outside to make sure the coast was clear. All I could see was the rotting tar-covered roofs of my uninhabited neighbors. There was no way to tell whether they were safe or not. But we had no choice.
    “You go first,” I said to Lisa.
    “Me? Why me?” She wasn’t too excited about the idea. I can’t say that I blamed