style="font-size:15px;"> He stopped in front of the drop-off. They shouldn’t have been able to find him, but the two men barreled into the clearing just in front of him.
The red-filtered flashlight one of them carried crossed his body, and they stopped.
A smile gleamed in the moonlight. “Two years late,” the man said, lifting his gun.
Garrett dived to the side just as the man charged. The guy tried to skid to a halt, but momentum carried him over the side. He shouted out and disappeared down the hill.
“Strickland!” the second man shouted. Garrett launched himself at the guy and pinned him. “Who are you?”
The man shook his head.
Garrett shoved the barrel of his Beretta beneath the guy’s chin. “I’m not playing games.”
“Yeah, well, neither is my boss. I’m dead if I say anything.”
The man’s eyes were resigned. A bad sign.
“How about we make a deal?” Garrett said, easing the gun just a bit. “You tell me your boss’s name. I let you go. You disappear out here. You’re a few hours from the border.”
A flare of hope flashed on the guy’s face before a gunshot sounded. A sharp burning slammed into Garrett’s back. His gun dropped from his hand. He rolled off the guy and behind a rock, his back screaming in pain. He sucked in a breath and blinked.
His Beretta lay in the open.
Strickland heaved himself up over the edge of the hill and lifted his M16. “Get out of there, Krauss, or so help me, I’ll shoot you, too.”
Krauss scrambled away. Staggering toward Garrett, Strickland peppered the rock. Dust and shrapnel flew into the air.
If it had been daylight, Garrett would be dead.
Another blast of firepower and he was running out of time.
“You’re dying this time, Bradley. Damn you. Your wife and kid weren’t even part of the deal.”
The words slammed into Garrett’s pain-riddled brain. This son of a bitch had killed his family.
“Yeah, that’s right. I set the bomb. You want to come out and face me?”
Garrett rolled over, ignoring the pain in his back. Krauss pulled his weapon. This was a no-win.
Then Krauss moved. Garrett had one chance. With a grunt, he launched himself at Krauss and shoved him into Strickland. Garrett’s weight forced them back toward the edge.
They all teetered on the precipice. Garrett grabbed a protrusion of rock and stopped his fall. Strickland and Krauss disappeared over the side.
Garrett could feel warmth seeping down his back as he climbed up the few feet. He flicked on his flashlight and peered over the side.
The men lay against a rock, motionless. Krauss’s neck was bent at an unnatural angle, his eyes wide-open. Dead.
Garrett moved the beam over.
Blood covered Strickland’s face. He wasn’t moving. Garrett pointed his weapon at Strickland, but the guy didn’t move. He wanted to climb down, be sure. He needed to know the truth.
A wave of dizziness stopped him. He fell down to his knees. A beeping noise just to his side grabbed his attention. He picked up a tablet. A red dot blinked. It was him. Damn it, how were they tracking him?
He pulled everything out of his pockets. He’d bought the clothes in El Paso. It couldn’t be them.
He didn’t have time to figure it out.
He took one last look over the edge—Strickland still hadn’t budged. Garrett stumbled to his feet. He had to make sure Laurel and Molly were gone, out of here. Daniel would help.
Garrett didn’t know how bad his wound was, but he had to make sure they were safe, and then he had to get as far away from them as he could. Because whoever had sent Strickland and Krauss wasn’t giving up.
* * *
THE GUNSHOTS HAD STOPPED. Laurel gripped her SIG, planting her hands firmly along the hood of the SUV.
Molly sat in the backseat, hugging Mr. Houdini close. “Where is Sheriff Garrett? He wouldn’t leave us.”
“He’ll be here,” Laurel said. He had to be here. She chewed on her fingernail.
Suddenly a figure came stumbling out of the trees. Her finger tightened on the trigger.
He looked up at her. “Garrett!” she shouted.
“Get in,” he ordered and bounded into the passenger seat. “Drive,” he said, clearing his throat.
Carefully she backed up and turned the SUV around. “Lights?” she asked.
“On,” he said. “Get us out of here fast.”
The beams hit the dirt road and she hit the gas.
“Why the hell did you wait for me? What if I hadn’t come back?”
“I have the number you gave me.” Laurel gripped the steering wheel. “I was getting ready to call Daniel Adams.”
“I don’t know whether to be relieved you were here or turn you over my knee.” The SUV bounced and Garrett took a sharp intake of breath. Laurel flipped on the interior lights and looked over at him.
His mouth was pinched and the light leather of his seat was streaked with red.
“You’re bleeding.”
“Just drive,” he ordered. “Get to the main road as fast as you can. Maybe we’ll be lucky and those two were the only ones following us. For now.”
She urged the vehicle forward.
Molly stuck her head between the seats. “Do you need a Band-Aid?” she asked. “I have princess ones. You can have my favorite if you want. Which princess do you like the best?”
Garrett smiled at her. “You’re my favorite princess, sugar. And don’t you worry. It’s just a scratch. I’ll be fine.”
Laurel’s knuckles tightened on the steering wheel. He was lying to protect Molly. Tears stung Laurel’s eyes. She’d fallen hard for this man. He’d saved them yet again, but this time she really didn’t know if they’d make it out alive. Blood kept seeping onto the seat. She had to get him help.
The nearest town was Trouble. She’d seen a clinic there. She could go back. Everyone knew him there. Someone would help.
It took forever to reach the county road leading to Trouble. She finally got to the intersection.
“Turn left,” Garrett said through clenched teeth.
“I’m glad you agree.
