Elizabeth Goddard - Running Target

Now to keep them alive.

That sick feeling continued to churn her insides. This wasn’t the way the day was supposed to go.

Minutes before they’d seen the boat in distress, she’d been planning to turn around. It was Stevie’s birthday. He was turning five. She and Dad had planned a party.

Jayce, along with his wife of two years, Cindy, and their baby, Taylor, were coming, too.

Instead, she and Jayce were facing off with men who would kill them without a thought.

A chill crawled over her. These criminals had cold, brutal eyes. They were the kind she had never seen before in her line of work in Coldwater Bay. They didn’t have the expected look of fear or dread when confronted by law enforcement. Specifically, marine division deputies.

“You two—” she gestured toward the broken outboard motor “—get down on your knees and put your hands on your head.”

Jayce would have to step between the unsteady boats.

It wouldn’t take much for these guys to shake things up. Rock the boat. Jump into the river that was trying to carry their anchored boat away.

Jayce stepped across and then positioned himself behind the remaining man standing. Cuffed his hands behind his back. Carefully, Jayce ushered him across to the sheriff’s department boat and re-cuffed him to the rail so he couldn’t go anywhere.

Meanwhile, Bree kept her weapon aimed at the other two. She’d contacted Dispatch to report their status and tell them that she and Jayce were bringing the men in. She hadn’t asked for backup. Backup wouldn’t help them in this situation, so far from reinforcements. There were only five full-time marine division deputies, and one of them was off duty today. The other two were on the other side of the county.

She kept her breaths even and steady, staying calm despite the unusual circumstances. Most of the time patrolling the waters was a matter of keeping people safe—performing rescue operations or assisting vessels in distress—not arresting three men who were up to some seriously bad business. If she had to guess, it involved much more than transporting illegal arms. Drug dealers liked big guns, too.

Jayce positioned the second man so that he could cuff him, too. The man bolted to his feet and twisted around to head-butt Jayce. Blood spurted from Jayce’s nose.

They wrestled for the weapon and a shot was fired but missed both men. Still, the guy disarmed the deputy.

“Jayce!”

Bree’s heart slammed against her rib cage. She fired her weapon at the perp. He grabbed his midsection and dropped the gun, so Jayce picked it up. Her pulse roared in her ears—or was that the ringing sound triggered after firing the weapon?

The uncuffed man who had been sitting scrambled up behind Jayce and caught him off guard.

“Behind you!” She couldn’t get a shot in without hurting Jayce.

Before Jayce could react, the man took his weapon away from him and shot him point-blank. He fell back into the water.

Jayce!

Though stunned with profound grief, Bree fought off the shock that would make her immobile.

She fired her weapon at the shooter but missed. In return, he fired off multiple rounds at her as he tried to get to the front of the boat and the machine guns. She dived for cover behind the seat, which was not much cover at all. She couldn’t let him get to those guns or it would all be over.

He lunged for the machine guns and she stood to fire.

A shot landed against her chest. Pain exploded, despite the Kevlar she wore under her uniform. She’d bemoaned wearing the Kevlar on hot days, never expecting she’d need it or the life jacket she’d forsaken. She fell back into the river...

And sank beneath the surface. Held the shallow breath she’d caught while more bullets sprayed the water.

Machine gun bullets.

Snap out of it or you’re going to drown like your brother! His son, little Stevie, needs you!

The current carried her away from the boat and the spray of bullets.

Jayce had gone into the river, too. Was there any possibility he was still alive? He was also wearing Kevlar. She could hope. After all, like him, she’d been shot and was still alive. Somehow they both had to survive this.

Bree bobbed to the surface and sucked in a breath.

Why weren’t the men leaving? Why weren’t they escaping in the sheriff department’s boat to flee upriver?

A slow-dawning realization squeezed her lungs.

They were searching for her and Jayce, that’s why. They had to make sure the two deputies—the two witnesses—were dead and couldn’t describe the men who had attacked them.

The uninjured criminal freed the one man who had been cuffed and got their motor running, after all. Maybe they didn’t want to take time to transfer their stashed weapons. Either that or they didn’t want to be seen in a sheriff’s department boat and draw unwanted attention. The boat slowly headed downriver, the men searching the water for the deputies. Underwater, she fought the current and headed for a muddy eddy. Bree’s feet found purchase on the pebbled bottom. Catching her breath, she slid forward into the mud. Rolled in it to camouflage herself. She simply couldn’t swim away fast enough, even with the river current.

Fear strangled her, making it hard to breathe. Tears choked her throat. She kept her eyes closed as the boat approached. She heard the shouts.

“Find the woman deputy!”

“She’s dead. She can’t hurt us.”

“She isn’t dead. She was wearing a vest. I saw her come up for air. The man is dead. Forget him.”

Tears mingled with the mud on her face.

Oh, Jayce...

She should have prevented his death. If she’d handled this better, they would be taking in three men and possibly make it home in time for a birthday party. A milestone celebration.

No one would know what happened to them if she didn’t survive. Though it took colossal strength, she shook off her grief to be revisited when she was safely away from the murderers.

The sheriff’s department knew roughly where they were. But Bree couldn’t stay here and wait for the cavalry. She had to move deeper into the wilderness country. Another boat approached, and it wasn’t someone from the sheriff’s department. She feared for anyone approaching the men—their lives were at stake.

Then when she heard the conversation between them, she understood that those in the approaching boat were more of the same men. Partners in crime.

She held her breath and sank deeper into the mud.

Oh, God, help me!

From her hiding spot, she saw the men transferring to the bigger boat and carrying over the man she’d shot but hadn’t killed. She watched to see what they would do next. Oh, God, please just let them leave.

Two men hopped onto her boat, then back to the larger boat. They laughed and shouted. An explosion resounded. They’d blown a hole in the hull. Bree watched in horror as the boat she and Jayce had brought upriver sank. The evidence they’d even been here was now hidden away.

Then across the river, she spotted Jayce climbing up onto the riverbank. Her heart surged with hope. You’re alive.

He rolled over onto his back. Pressed his hand against his chest and to the side. It came away with—was that blood? He was injured, but the Kevlar had still likely saved his life, just like it had saved hers. Only she wasn’t bleeding from a bullet. They’d spot him if he didn’t move, and he wouldn’t live long if they saw him. They thought he was dead. She had to draw their attention away so they wouldn’t find him.

Bree drew in a couple of breaths. You can do this.

She rolled over and slowly crawled out of the mud. The boat was a mere twenty-five yards from her. Then she made a show of standing up, hoping they would spot her before she ran into the woods.