with her weapon ready only to find a dirty black shirt lying on the ground.
Then Hunter started barking. She heard a click behind her. “Halt the dog and drop the gun.”
Whitney did as he asked. “Stay,” she said to Hunter in a commanding voice, her insides like jelly. Then she slowly laid her gun on the ground, her mind racing. This could go wrong if she lost her cool. Hunter growled low, but he wouldn’t attack without her order.
Could she do this? Could she risk having her K9 partner shot in midair? Hunter was still in training, too. What if he got hurt because of her carelessness?
“Stay,” she told him again, her tone firm in spite of her trembling nerves.
She glanced back and found a handgun pointed at her head by a tall bearded man wearing a black baseball cap and dark shades. But this wasn’t the man she’d seen running beside the train. That man had been wearing the dark red baseball cap and had shorter hair. Which meant he was probably moving through the train car, looking for any lost packages of heroin. They’d set a trap.
“What do you want?” she asked the man who held his gun pointed at her.
“Keep telling the dog to heel,” he whispered in a rasp that burned her neck.
Hunter stood growling, ready to attack.
“Stay,” Whitney commanded, her pulse pumping adrenaline through her body. “Stay.”
Hunter didn’t move, but the big dog’s whole body shook with aggression, his bared teeth visible.
“One move from you, lady, and that dog and you both die.” He twisted her around and jerked her arm with a brutal grasp, his rancid breath hissing against her ear.
“I’m not a lady,” she retorted. “I’m a police officer.”
The stench of his sweat assaulted her. Sweat and fear. “And a nosy one,” he replied on a huff of air. “Shoulda kept going.”
He pushed her deeper into the sparse, dry landscape, kicking up dust that made her want to cough. Whitney glanced around, her breath settling. No one had noticed them on the far side of the big train car, and now the train would soon be leaving the station. She wouldn’t let this criminal get to her, but she wasn’t going to die here, either. She’d get out of this. Somehow.
She’d acted too hastily and made a rookie mistake. She hadn’t been careful, and she hadn’t called for backup. Hunter would do her bidding, but she had to find the right moment. She’d like to blame her lack of attention to detail on the mysterious medic who’d appeared here and stayed with her. But Whitney wasn’t one for pushing off blame on others. This was her mistake.
The man kicked her gun behind him, then shoved her into a cluster of pines and rock. Praying that someone would see what was happening, Whitney kept thinking ahead. He could be bringing her out here for only one reason.
Trying to memorize all the details around her, she took a deep breath. Black Hat had a tattoo on his lower arm. Some sort of intricate symbol. An arrow and three hanging feathers with what looked like a face in the arrow. Could it be the same symbol David Evans had mentioned seeing over the license plate of the SUV?
“So what’s your plan?” she asked in a matter-of-fact tone that belied the tremors running through her body. “Where’s your buddy?”
“Shut up so I can think,” he said into her ear. “We got surprised today, so I have to clean up this mess before the boss finds out.”
“Who’s your boss? If you agree to cooperate, we might be able to help you out. Think about it. Your boss won’t help you.”
His voice shook. “Right. I’m not buying that, so shut up.”
Whitney could take advantage of his nervous energy.
She prayed for calm and clarity. She’d been one of the best in her class when she’d returned to training this year, so she centered her thoughts on what she’d been taught. Determined to stay alive, she concentrated on her sweet five-month-old baby girl, Shelby. The baby she’d fought so hard to have. Alone. The baby her brother had never heard about because he’d died before she’d found the courage to tell him.
Whitney would regret for the rest of her life that Lucas would never know his niece. But she would fight for her child’s sake, too.
She was at her best when she was cornered and alone.
The man shoved her toward the tumbleweeds and scrub brush that surrounded the scant trees and jutting rocks. “Let’s get this done and over.”
The train now hissed like a big snake. He was waiting for the train to leave. It would serve as a cover when he shot her. So that meant his friend must have made it off the train without detection.
Adrenaline pumped a new energy through Whitney’s system. She had to act fast or she’d never see Shelby again.
She went limp so she could use her body to get away from the man holding her. It worked. Her body fell against the man, causing his hands to go up and giving her enough time to slip a booted foot behind his left calf and bring him down. But on the way down, she heard a grunt and then felt a blur of air rushing by her head. The next thing she knew, the man who’d been holding her let out a yelp of pain and dropped at her feet, his gun sliding over dry dirt and skidding to a stop a few feet away.
Surprised, she watched in amazement as a now familiar form crashed over the gunman who’d been about to shoot her and held him pinned to the ground.
The medic! She’d forgotten all about him. With a grunt, he lifted his right arm and hit the man on the head with a big jagged rock. Which didn’t do much in the way of injuries, so it wouldn’t keep him down long. But it gave David time to get up and Whitney enough time to react. Flipping the man over, she motioned to David, and he helped her control the man on the ground.
Hunter growled and danced, eyeing her for instructions.
“Guard,” Whitney ordered as she scrambled up, her breath leaving her body. David helped her, steadying her until she caught her breath and searched for her radio. The dog stood over the moaning man.
“He’ll bite you if I tell him to,” Whitney informed the man. “It’s up to you, but I strongly suggest you stay still and remain on your stomach.”
David glanced around and then spotted her gun. He grabbed it and held it on the man, who was now curled up with Hunter hovering over him. “Are you okay?” he asked Whitney.
She nodded and then reached out to David. “Give me the gun.”
David looked uncertain and then shook his head. “I’d feel better if you get him cuffed.”
Whitney debated and then nodded while she leaned over the suspect. “Now it’s your turn to stay still, or I will let my partner here tear you to shreds.”
Panic poured off the criminal on the ground. His eyes widened in fear, his gaze darting here and there. “My partner will be here soon.”
“No,
