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Ugh…fine…rush the ending.

Men are so inconsiderate sometimes.

From my closet, I pull out the go-bag I have prepared for this moment. Jen and Alden have rushed my timeline, but that doesn’t mean I’m not ready. I jog down the stairs and race through the hall to the emergency exit door. It’s out of Jen’s line of sight and takes me less than two minutes to skirt around the building into the camera-less alley.

Staying low, I drop my duffel near her trunk and reach into my pocket. I wrap my fingers around the extendable baton and approach the driver’s-side window. Jen looks genuinely shocked to see me when I tap on the glass.

Does she really think she is being inconspicuous in a plain black sedan?

How did you ever become a cop?

She hesitates, then slowly cracks her window.

“You’re fucking annoying, but you’re persistent. I’ll give you that.”

“So, Alden told you I went to see him.”

No, he hasn’t mentioned it, but thanks for the information.

So that’s why that bad boy chose today to track my spy cord. I know he’s been biding his time. I was alerted when he accessed his security laptop. He left everything as it was, but now, because she can’t keep her nose out of my business, everything is in motion.

Bitch. You ruined my romantic weekend.

Jen is really getting on my nerves. It’s a good thing she’ll be dead soon.

I don’t confirm or deny that Alden spoke to me.

“If you want to know what I know, then get out here and talk to me face to face. Otherwise forget it. I’m not talking through a cracked car window like this is a drug deal.”

Every word is purposeful. Jen won’t like the visual I just put in her head. She has too big an ego, and wants so badly to find the killer and prove Rob’s fall wasn’t an accident. She’s desperate to make him some fucking hero.

Come on, bitch, open your door and come out to play.

Another minute passes, and I shrug.

“Okay, suit yourself.”

“Wait.”

And there it is.

Jen opens the car door, and as she starts to get out, she leans into the movement and stupidly looks down. I take the opening and pull the baton from my pocket. It locks into place just as I bring it down on the back of her head. Jen doesn’t even have time to cry out. The momentum knocks her forward into the door, and she hits the ground face first.

I kneel on her back and pull the zip ties out of my other pocket.

“Ah…get off me.”

Grabbing a fistful of her hair, I slam her head into the pavement. She goes limp, giving me enough time to yank her arms back. I zip-tie her wrists together and then her ankles. Then, I pull the ball gag from my duffel.

“You…bitch. You can’t…do this. I’m a…detective,” she slurs.

Leaning close to her ear, I whisper, “You messed with the wrong woman, detective, and now we’re going to have a little fun.”

“You won’t…get away with this.”

“Wrong,” I say with a smile. “I already have.”

She cries out in pain when I wrench her neck back, and I quickly push the gag into her mouth. I fasten it tighter than necessary. Discomfort looks good on her.