Faux Reel (Imogene Museum Mystery #5) - Plot & Excerpts
I’m embarrassed to say the rest of us were rooted to our spots for a couple nanoseconds while the idea that we were being shot at sank in. The hot water heater in the corner sprouted two neat round leaks. I cringed and ducked — the racket was deafening. From my knees, I spun around and saw Vince — the big goon — standing directly behind Sheriff Marge’s rocking chair, blocking the only doorway, his gun arm raised. Another bullet thwanged off the barrel of the wringer next to Mom. He might have the look of a mercenary, but he didn’t have the skills — the guy was clearly not a good shot. Click. Click — click. He also wasn’t faithful about cleaning his weapon. Vince swore and bent in half, hiking up the hem of his jeans. Rats. Rats. Rats. Saskia had underestimated him. He had a backup, fully loaded, ankle holster. “Move!” I shouted. “Keep moving!” Mom army crawled toward Barbara. I scootched toward the stainless steel double sink. Sheriff Marge rocked like crazy. With her back toward the shooter and her bum leg, the best she could hope for was that he’d hit her Kevlar vest instead of her unprotected head.
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