Audiobook - Thriller - Kate Jones Book #8

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Audiobooks
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Description

A thriller audiobook, #8 in the series with 4.5 stars on Amazon.

Vocal Characteristics

Language

English

Voice Age

Young Adult (18-35)

Accents

North American (General) North American (US General American - GenAM)

Transcript

Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
I walked toward the fence searching for a week area that I could breach without too much trouble. I just located a good sized hole in the fence when the deep rumble of a car engine echoed through the air. Seconds later, a blood red Aston Martin slid in behind the Tahoe and parked. The side windows were dark, and I couldn't see who was driving my breath. Shallow and acutely aware of the press of my gun, I paused, hoping like **** that whoever got out of that sports car didn't have anything to do with Perricone or Momo. My heart beats Takato in my ears as the door opened and the driver climbed out. At first, I didn't recognize her because of the oversized tortoise shell sunglasses. When her identity finally dawned on me, my breath caught my mind feverishly tumbling toward an explanation that smile like a Cheshire cat with a cadre of mice at her disposal. She changed her hair again. The last time I had seen her in Mexico, it had been short, an iceberg white. This time, Angie McKenna had toned things down a bit, opting for a warmer caramel and tan inverted Bob How the **** did she find me? The assassins ensemble of black cigarette pants, cream colored blouse and fitted black jackets screamed East Coast Sheikh. Except for her flats, which had serviceable written all over them. The gold glinting at her ears, neck and wrists made a tasteful, if overly upmarket, statement. Even when she was closing in for the kill, I couldn't help but admire her fashion sense. Angie, I stayed where I was, preferring not to get too close in case there was still a contract out on me. Kate, darling, how are you? It's been an age, and you Southern drawl flowed over me like raw honey, thick, viscous, sticky Honey, I've been all right. Thanks for asking, I added. It seemed the thing to Dio, acutely aware that all that separated me from death by assassin was the streaming traffic and probable witnesses. My brain searched anxiously for reasons why she was there, but came up empty except for the unfinished business of my death. How did she even find me? I doubted she knew her Sam lived or did she with a smirk, and he crossed the street during a lull in the traffic and stepped onto the curb. Oh, just fine, honey. Just fine crossing her arms. She turned her head and studied the razor wire on top of the fence. That looks serious. Just what the **** are you doing here? I was going to ask you the same thing. I shifted my stance. So my body was at an angle to her, making me less of a target. How did you find me? Or more to the point, why Vincent and I as dead or hadn't you heard? And the waves, the common away and leaned against the car. I'm not here because of Vincent. Kate. Don't you think I would have killed you already? She shrugged. Looking at our surroundings, I'd have opted for your house, though. Fewer witnesses. My house. So you followed me from the house? She rolled her eyes. Well, of course, darling. How else? How long have you known where I was living? She glanced at her watch. About two hours. Give or take. Maybe I should ask. How did you know? Oh, please. I'm not going to give away all my secrets. Why are you here, Angie? You tell me you're the one who left the message. No, it couldn't be. You're You're Lucy. Ah, Slow grin spread across Angie's face and she stretched her arms wide at your service. But the whole encounter was beginning to take on a surreal quality. Having a conversation with someone who'd been hired to kill. You can do that. You're wondering where Ron is. She studied her fingernails, which had been painted a particularly obnoxious straight of green. Let's just say I'm not a fan of competition. Well, one less hit man in the world wasn't necessarily a bad thing. A semi roared by the screech of its Jake breaks making conversation difficult. Angie grimaced and waited for it to pass. Listen, I know a great little restaurant nearby where we can get a proper drink and something to eat. I'm famished. She checked the elegant timepiece on her wrist and then her eyes met mine. Ah, faint glint of amusement sparkled in them. It's a tad quieter there and public. She emphasized the word public and smiled. I can tell you need some convincing that I'm not here to kill you. Honestly, I'm not. No one wants you dead, hon.