Upstairs, Cat meows again. Oh my God. Who’ll take care of her when we are gone? I click my tongue for one last, wet nose kiss. My crazy kitten, thinking it’s time to eat, dashes down the stairs as the killer’s fingers begin to close off the oxygen to my brain.
Mia’s eyes grow wide. “Sam, watch out!”
Shock appears on the rest of the faces. I’m there too, paling as fingers squeeze the life out of me.
“Meow.” Cat, now downstairs, hops on my keyboard, strolls across, and my screen goes blank.
Way to go, sweetheart.
“What? No, no, no!” The online strangler shoves my pet to the floor but she comes back with a vengeance. Hissing, she digs her nails into his hand and bites.
“Dammit.” He flails his arms in the air, but bless her heart, she won’t let go.
Focused on the angry feline, the killer backs to the wall where Suds kicks his feet out from under him.
Red faced, the killer reaches into his pocket and retrieves the garrote activator.
“No!” I dive across the room, clutch his hand, and bite down on the fleshy part until he lets go.
For once, a tiny apartment comes in handy. Eye-to-eye with Cat, I crab scramble backwards, snatch my purse near the door, and unzip the side pocket.
Standing, I aim my revolver at his chest. “Stop or I shoot.”
The phrase, while hardly original, does the job and the serial killer raises his hands.
“Uncuff my husband.” Motioning with my weapon, I dare him to do something stupid. He has to be a lethal threat when I pull the trigger. That way I can tell the truth, if questioned by the police.
Cat hisses but I dare not shift my gaze away from the killer as he approaches Suds.
“You okay, tough guy?” Adrenaline courses through my veins and sweat rolls down my sides.
It seems like an eternity passes before he responds. “Never better, babe.”
My arm tires and shakes, so I brace it with my other while my husband offers up advice. “You could just shoot him.”
“Don’t.” The intruder pales and reaches with a small key held high in the air.
Suds narrows his gaze. “Better not try anything. She’s a mite excitable.”
In some ways, I guess the murderer isn’t all that bright. When he reaches for the tiny plunger connected to the deadly necklace, I squeeze the trigger, and he drops to the floor.
As the man cries and cradles his knee, I free my partner. Then, I tear off my t-shirt to protect my hands from the wire as I pull it over his head.
Once I’m sure his wounds aren’t too deep, I kiss him deeply, then direct him to the bathroom to clean up.
While the bastard who tried to kill us writhes, I take my time calling nine-one-one.
“Hello, what is your emergency?”
“I just shot the online strangler.” Placing the phone on speaker, I grab a bag of kitty food, and feed my little heroine.
“Who else is there with you?” The nine-one-one operator begins her litany of questions.
“Sebastian and my cat.”
“Are you injured?”
“Not me, but my husband has a pretty deep cut around his neck.”
