One of the Nixons stepped in front of her, pulled out a knife, and cut the duct tape holding her legs to the chair. They stood her up, then tore the chair from her and sent it sailing across the room.
“I wanna do her,” the lead Nixon said.
“We don’t have time,” one of them responded.
“I’m not really in the mood, guys,” Mary said.
One of the Nixons grabbed her arms.
“You didn’t learn from Watergate, did you?”
A Nixon took out a pair of handcuffs, freed Mary’s arms, then quickly cuffed her wrists to a pipe that ran the length of the room.
And then Mary saw something that took her breath away.
One of the Nixons was unbuckling his belt.
“I’m not in the mood, guys,” Mary said. “No really does mean no.”
Mary shivered. Whatever they had in mind scared the hell out of her.
“I only date younger men,” Mary said. “Isn’t there a shuffleboard tournament somewhere?” Her heart was thudding in her chest and her mouth was dry. The adrenaline pumped into her blood and she pulled on her restraints.
“Who wants to go first?” one of the Nixons said, his voice muffled and unrecognizable through the mask.
“Why don’t you talk about it?” Mary said.
“Someone do her so she shuts up,” the lead Nixon said.
“Enough with the sweet talk,” Mary said.
She tried to slip her wrists through the handcuffs. She pulled until she felt the cuffs dig through her skin and begin to split her skin and crush her bone. Panic welled up inside her. Suddenly she felt a hand on her ass. Mary kicked back and her foot connected with what felt like a solar plexus. She reefed back on the handcuffs, but her hands caught. A slight metallic grinding sound caught her ear, though. The pipe had moved, sending puffs of rust to the floor.
Mary wrapped her hands around the pipe itself and studied it. She saw a spot weld two feet in front of her, and a bracket with a screw that had already separated from the wall. She leaned forward and lunged sideways, pulling on the pipe with everything she had.
“Whoa, Nellie!” one of the Nixons said.
The pipe had separated completely from the wall, but had remained intact.
“Come on,” one of the Nixons said. “Hurry up, I’ve got a five-thirty tee time.”
Mary felt hands on her hips and her mind shrieked with panic and she felt a blind white hot fury explode within her.
She arched her back and rammed backward with her hips, knocking the nearest Nixon back. She pulled the pipe away from the wall and down, then swung around and planted her right foot on top of the pipe. The pipe groaned.
“Watch it!” one of the Nixons shouted.
Mary hopped on top of the pipe with both feet and it snapped, sounding like a gunshot. A three-foot section came free in her hand.
“Shit!” one of the Nixons said.
Mary twisted and swung the pipe in one smooth rotation. She followed through and saw the pipe connect with the nearest man’s temple. He flopped backwards onto the floor.
It was like a hand grenade had been dropped into the middle of the room.
Most of the Nixons bolted for the door, but the one who’d shot Kenum went for his automatic.
Mary leapt across the room and brought the pipe down on his forearm, just as he came up with the gun. It fired into the floor and then flew across the room.
She wheeled, looking for the Nixon with the shotgun, only to face the barrel two inches from her face. She ducked as the gun roared. The sound was deafening in the room and she heard the shotgun pellets punch a hole in the plaster wall. Mary swung the pipe and clipped the Nixon with the shotgun at the ankles. He staggered, and she swung at the other ankle, then upward.
The Nixon dropped the shotgun and ran for the door.
Mary thrust the pipe downward and opened her hands. The pipe slid through the cuffs and clattered to the floor. She dove for the shotgun, clamped the stock between her knees and racked a shell into the chamber.
She rolled just as the killer Nixon went for his automatic. Mary fired from a sitting position and the blast tore a fist-sized hole in the plaster just above the man’s head. He ducked, gave up the idea of getting back the automatic, and ran for the door.
Mary flipped the shotgun down, caught it by the pump, jacked the shell, flipped it back up, and fired just as the Nixon framed the door.
The pellets shredded his ass and she heard him scream, then tumble down the stairs.
Mary jumped to her feet, racked another shell, and ran toward the landing.
She made it there just as the Nixons ran through the door, helping the one with the bloody ass. She fired again, but hit the doorjamb and saw splinters explode.
Mary pumped the shotgun, but it was empty. She ran back into the room, grabbed the automatic with the silencer, heard an engine roar and tires squeal, then ran down the stairs.
She burst through the doors and onto the sidewalk. The street was empty.
“Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about, babe,” the kid on the bike said.
Mary lowered the gun to her side, realized her shirt was torn and hanging open.
“You’re giving me a boner,” he said.
“Merry Christmas,” she said.
Mary walked back up into the room and found her cell phone. She punched the buttons from memory.
“Cornell,” Jake answered.
“I’m half-naked and wearing handcuffs. Get over here,” Mary said.
Chapter Fifty-Five
Mary stood in the silent room. It stunk of blood and gunpowder.
She looked over at Kenum sprawled out in an ever-widening pool of blood and felt sick to her stomach. The shock of what had just happened made her numb.
She went over and searched his pockets. Nothing.
Mary did her best to fix her shirt. Her legs were quivering, and she felt a little lightheaded. The adrenaline was wearing off, leaving shaken nerves in its place.
Maybe it was because she was still stunned by the sight of a man being gunned down in front of her, and maybe it was the fact that she’d had five senior citizens assaulting her and rubbing up against her, but it seemed like only a few seconds before she heard her name being called.
“Mary,” the voice said.
“Mary.”
She looked up, and saw Detective Jacob Cornell.
“Mary, what happened?” he said. “Are you okay?”
She wished he would put his arms around her.
“I guess I’m not an orgy kind of girl,” she said.
Jake put his arm on her shoulder. She moved a little bit closer toward him. Mary felt Jake’s body heat, and her shivering subsided.
“It’s okay to need someone, Mary,” he said. “Even if it’s me.”
Her body relaxed and she opened her mouth to say something like she needed him as much as she needed a trip to the Nixon library. But she didn’t. She slipped her arms around him and pulled him closer.
The ambulance team arrived and raced past them.
“Let’s get out of here,” Jake said. They crossed the room together and were just about to the door when Sergeant Amanda Davies appeared.
“Ah, Cooper,” she said. “Always seem to find you in such pleasant circumstances.”
Mary felt the woman’s eyes notice how close she and Jake were standing.
“I thought I was attending a bat mitzvah,” Mary said. “I knew there was going to be blood but this was ridiculous.”
“They don’t do circumcisions at bat mitzvahs, Mary,” Jake said.