where she’d sent him, had wasted no time starting up the threats. She’d escaped his sick world, but not for long.
Deal with that issue later, Kendra, she told herself. Sullivan was her target, and Ethan’s abrupt departure was an advantage. Now she had the chance to try to persuade the colonel that she did not need any help catching the Red Rose Killer before he murdered anyone else in this part of Texas. Temporarily leaving her tiny office in Colorado, the place she’d fled after her disastrous time in Texas with Andy, the job was an answer to her prayer, the only way she could both settle her debt to Jillian Masters. She would complete the mission much easier without a second party in the picture, especially Jillian’s ex.
She expected the colonel to be furious at Ethan’s disrespect, but to her great surprise, he chuckled, leaning back in his chair.
“Hasn’t changed a bit. He’ll cool off and come around.”
“How do you figure?”
“He’s one of those Southern gentlemen types. Don’t let his lazy Tennessee drawl fool you. He’s smart as a fox and he’s proud and hotheaded, but he can’t walk away from a lady in distress.”
“I’m not in distress.”
“Not yet.” The colonel smiled—a cold, calculating smile—like a tiger sizing up its prey. Her stomach tensed. She did not need another ruthlessly determined man in her life, but she had the feeling she’d just been saddled with two of them.
* * *
Ethan headed to the parking lot with Titus. He yanked open the truck door for the dog and got in himself, clenching the steering wheel, wondering how he’d lost control of his life. There was absolutely no reason he should be doing the bidding of his devious former father-in-law, and now to find out he’d be partnered with a civilian of all things. Why had he accepted the request that bordered on a command? Ethan was a member of the Air Force Military Police, not property of the Marine Corps.
Masters’s previous words echoed in his mind. Jillian needs you.
That was rich. His ex-wife didn’t need him and never had. Sure, she was under threat from serial killer Boyd Sullivan along with a list of others who’d crossed him, but the investigative team Ethan was a part of would catch him. Besides, Jillian was a woman who could take care of herself—ruthless, determined and entirely self-absorbed. She’d been offered protection after Sullivan killed two K-9 handlers at Canyon Air Force Base, including Ethan’s best friend, Airman Landon Martelli. He’d also murdered Chief Master Sergeant Clint Lockwood in the same killing spree. She’d declined the protection in spite of the risks. No surprise there.
Sullivan’s not smart enough to hurt me, she’d said. Typical.
Yet all of a sudden Jillian had just gone along with her father hiring a look-alike as bait? Insane. He slammed a hand on the steering wheel. Titus regarded him from the passenger seat, head cocked, ears flopping as if to say, “What’s going on?”
In the six years they’d trained, lived and served together, including their last deployment to Afghanistan, Titus could read Ethan better than any other living creature. And now that they shared a living space, the bond had grown stronger. Sullivan’s break-in at Canyon Air Force Base had had other disastrous results besides the deaths of human personnel. Sullivan had let loose nearly two hundred dogs from the Military Working Dogs training center. Twenty-eight of them had yet to be found.
Ethan had been given special permission to keep Titus with him instead of at the kennel until the repairs could be done and security assured.
That was fine by Ethan, as he was cross-training Titus as a cadaver detection dog in addition to his patrol duties. The more time they spent together the better. Plus, military dogs were more than just animals, they were partners. And he had to be sure his partner was protected. Titus had his back and Ethan returned the favor.
“I’ve gotta talk this nutty lady out of standing in for Jillian before she gets herself killed,” he muttered.
Titus flapped his ears and settled back into the seat.
Preparing his most convincing argument for Kendra, he waited for her to exit the office. He was surprised when she stepped out lugging some sort of small animal carrier. He started to exit the vehicle to talk to her, but she loaded the carrier and slid behind the wheel of her car so quickly he didn’t have the chance. As she drove by, he caught her profile, her long red hair now captured in a tight twist at the nape of a graceful neck, a spray of freckles across the nose. His stomach dropped. So like Jillian. Anger choked him, and hurt speared through him as sharp as it had been the day he’d finally understood how his wife had betrayed him, repeatedly, and he’d been nothing but gullible and blind to it. What a sap. Dense as his aunt Millie’s fruitcake.
“Let it go,” he commanded himself. “You’ve been divorced for three years. She’s not your problem anymore.” He decided that with his current state of mind it was best not to head back to Canyon until he got his anger under control and then sorted out how to get Kendra Bell out of the picture.
He pulled out of the parking lot and took the back road off the Marine base, bathed in shadows from the trees that broke up the buttery June sunlight. Unseasonably hot, people were saying, which made him laugh. After returning from Afghanistan, where the temps could top 115 degrees before noon, he’d never complain about the Texas heat again.
Titus seemed to feel the same, stretched out to catch the sunshine, enjoying the moments free from enemy sniper fire and the constant tension born of living in a war zone. Titus was a top-notch patrol dog, sniffing out hidden insurgents and intruders at checkpoints, and he was taking easily to his new training in cadaver detection. The animal’s incredible abilities never ceased to boggle Ethan’s mind. God knew what He was doing when he made dogs.
The miles rolled by along with his thoughts until he was surprised to catch up to Kendra as she headed into a curvy, wooded section of road. A slow and careful driver, unlike the woman she resembled. The bumper of her car disappeared around a turn and gunfire ripped through the air, followed by the sound of breaking glass. Adrenaline exploded through his body as he floored the accelerator, stopping just in time to see Kendra’s vehicle skid off the road and down the slope. He pulled the truck behind a pile of rocks and dialed both 911 and Masters’s direct line. Titus went rigid, ears erect, nose twitching, waiting for a signal from Ethan. Messages delivered, there was no more time to spare. Kendra might be badly injured.
Clipping on Titus’s lead, he unlocked the box from under his seat and slipped the handgun in his belt. Slamming the door, he sprinted toward the edge where her car had gone over, praying the sniper’s bullets had not found their target.
* * *
Was Sullivan making his move already? Kendra fought the bucking steering wheel after the last shot had taken out the front tire. Then again, she had another enemy hot on her trail. She didn’t know that Andy was a good enough shot to take out a tire, but he was skilled at many other means of inflicting pain. Whether it was Sullivan or Andy didn’t really matter at the moment. She battled for control of her vehicle, but there was no time. The car bumped and jolted, skidding sideways toward the trees. “Hold on, Baby,” she shouted to the elderly cat tucked in his back seat carrier. Her words were lost in the jolt of the chassis as it smacked against the rocky ground. Thick tree trunks flashed past the windows as the car flew down the slope, gravity overwhelming the brakes. The front fender slammed into a pile of rocks so hard it snapped her neck back and drove the breath out of her. For several seconds all she could do was cling to the steering wheel, wondering why the airbag hadn’t deployed.
