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. I’m getting you to a doctor.”
“I can’t now.” Garrett leaned his head back on the seat. “Keep driving straight.”
After about fifteen minutes he turned his head to her. In the light of the interior his face had gone pale. “There’s a dirt road not too far from here. Pull over and let me out.”
“No way—”
“Do it, Laurel.”
Against her better judgment, she pulled to the side and stopped the car.
Garrett gripped the door handle and faced her. “Here’s what you’re going to do. Take this road. It circles down some back roads until you reach Rural Route 11. Follow that until you hit this highway again. Get to a phone, even if you have to buy a prepaid cell at a convenience store. Call Daniel Adams. Tell him what’s happening. He’ll take you to Covert Technology Confidential in Carder, Texas. They’ll protect you.”
Daniel’s employer might be the only one that could hide Laurel and Molly from the agency and get away with it.
She shook her head. “I won’t leave you. You’re hurt.”
“Laurel, they’re tracking me. I don’t know how, but they are. You have to get away.”
He opened the SUV door, but as soon as his boots hit the pavement he collapsed.
She shoved open her door and ran around the car. “At least let me stop the bleeding before I leave. You can’t do it yourself.”
He closed his eyes, then gave her a reluctant nod. Why did the thing that attracted her so much to Garrett have to be the very thing that could kill him?
“There’s a T-shirt in my backpack. And a canteen. Wash off the wound and use the cotton as a bandage. Then you have to go.”
“Are you fixing Sheriff Garrett, Aunt Laurel?”
“That’s right, sugar,” Garrett said with a smile. “I’ll be good as new.”
Liar.
Laurel fished out the material and the water. She lifted his shirt and he passed her the flashlight. She gasped. Dried blood caked part of his back, but fresh still oozed from the wound. She didn’t know how he was still standing.
She ripped the T-shirt in two and soaked half in water. She bathed his back, trying to be gentle. He didn’t even wince.
Each pass removed more of the blood, revealing the scars. They weren’t all that bad. The horror of what he’d experienced far surpassed this permanent reminder.
She worked her way toward the area that still bled. The bullet had hit him near his shoulder blade, near where she’d seen his previous wound and stitches. He looked as if he’d scraped his back raw on the rocks, too.
“Just how many times have you been shot in the back?” she asked.
“Since I met you?” he asked. “Or altogether?”
“Wiseass.”
“Aunt Laurel, that’s a naughty word.” Molly gasped.
“Sorry, Molly.” She frowned at his back. “See what you made me do?”
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