a painful effort, she unbuckled her seat belt, grabbed her Glock and turned to peer over the headrest into the back seat. Her heart pounded at what she might find in the cat carrier.
Please, God, don’t let Baby be dead. I know I don’t deserve to ask You for anything, not one thing, but I’m asking anyway. The silence from the rear of the car galvanized her into action.
Shoving an elbow at the door, she forced it open, tumbling to her knees on the rocky ground. Pain in her ribs made her gasp but she pulled herself up and grabbed the rear door handle.
The crunch of footsteps made her draw back.
Sullivan or Andy?
Andy’s last voice mail message echoed in her ears. When I finally catch up to you, I am going to enjoy killing you slowly.
She gritted her teeth. If he was going to kill her today, she’d make sure it would be the hardest thing he’d ever done.
The sounds drew nearer. Her mind sought options. Flag someone down? Ethan had been behind her for a while, she’d noticed, but she’d lost sight of him a few miles back. Incredibly, she heard no traffic at all on this back road out of the Baylor Marine Corps Base. She reached for her cell phone when she heard a whispered voice.
“Kendra?”
The voice didn’t belong to Andy, that was certain. This voice was a low baritone, complete with a Tennessee drawl. Ethan. She let out a slow breath.
“I’m coming over to you,” he continued, “so don’t do anything crazy like shoot me.”
She kept silent, gripping the Glock and training the gun toward the direction of the shots. Ethan rounded the corner with a dog at his side. The pointer immediately stiffened, ears erect.
“I don’t like dogs,” she snapped.
“That’s okay. He probably doesn’t like you, either. Cops and marines should be on their way.”
“What are you doing here?” She shot a look at the animal still in alert position. A patrol or scout dog, she suspected.
He quirked an eyebrow. “Maybe we can do the pleasantries later? After the cavalry arrives?”
She would have retorted, but a shot whistled through the air and they hunkered low for cover.
“Sullivan doesn’t usually do his dirty work in public,” he said over his shoulder, peering in the direction of the shooter. “Anyone else you know who might shooting at you?”
“Could be anyone,” she said, earning another exasperated look.
“You can play innocent with me, but I don’t think the marines are gonna be as warm and fuzzy.”
“If you think you’re warm and fuzzy,” she said, yanking the back door handle, “then you’re pretty clueless.”
He put out a hand to stop her. “Leave it. We have to move. Shooter is going to change locations to get a better bead now that we’re pinned down.”
She ignored him, pulling harder on the door, which opened with a reluctant groan.
He grabbed her forearm. “Didn’t you hear me?”
“Hearing and listening are two different things.”
A shot drilled the rear window, sending glass rocketing in all directions. They both ducked.
“You’re really stubborn,” he said, but she was already lugging the animal carrier out of the car, and he reached in to help.
Another shot pinged the metal car roof, sending off sparks.
“Come on,” he said, taking her arm and propelling her toward the shrubbery.
It was all she could do to hold on to the carrier.
“I thought MPs were supposed to stand their ground,” she huffed.
“We do, but this isn’t my ground and I happen to be saddled with an irrational civilian.”
So much for warm and fuzzy.
He pushed her ahead of him, and he and the dog took up position right behind her as another volley of shots bored into the tree just above their heads.
Ethan put as many sturdy tree trunks between them and the shooter as he could. His mind churned faster than his feet. Had Sullivan finally snapped and changed his tactics to include daylight ambushes? It was possible. Sullivan wasn’t much of a shot, he happened to know, and this gunman was all over the place. Two more bullets whistled by, the last a wild one that lost itself in the tree branches. Sirens were converging from all directions. The marines would be responding, and the local police. With that many guns and that much adrenaline pumping, he figured their safest option was to stay still, very still. He put Titus into a sit.
“Stay put,” he told the woman. “Marines are here.”
The Jillian look-alike stood with her back to a tree, her arms curled around the animal carrier. Now that he got a close look without a couple of feet between them, he could see that her mouth was fuller than Jillian’s, the hair more auburn than copper, the spray of freckles more subtle, but still...uncanny.
“Still staring?” she demanded.
He flushed. “How do you know Jillian?”
A flash of emotion crossed her face, indicating that whatever her connection was to Jillian, it was a strong one. Then the expression disappeared and she shrugged. “Friends.”
His instincts went berserk, as if he was inches from stepping into a trip wire, but he had to know. “You’re a pretty good friend to paint a target on your back.”
She flashed a smile this time as she pointed to several armed marines scurrying down the slope, geared up for battle. “I think that conversation is going to have to wait.”
She was right. The marines were in no mood for chatting. Once they ascertained that Kendra and Ethan were not the bad guys, they searched the area until the police arrived, finding no sign of the shooter.
One marine approached them. “Hey, Airman. Heard you slammed the door on Colonel Masters an hour ago.”
Ethan grinned at the marine police captain, friends from the time their deployments overlapped. “News travels fast, Hector.”
MP Marine Captain Hector Sanchez squashed his smile and regarded the woman next to him intently. “Your name, ma’am?”
“Kendra. I had a meeting on base with Lieutenant Colonel Terence Masters.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Pertaining to?”
“Ask him, if you want to know.”
“Due respect, ma’am, but we’re not in the mood
