Chapter Thirty-Six

“You always thought Delilah was murdered by a pro,” Dirk said while Val worked in the kitchen and Ethan finished summing things up. A lot had happened since Dirk had left the city.

“For a while, I thought maybe I was wrong and it was just a crazy,” Ethan said.

“After Stern came on to Val and started talking about the murder, hinting that the victim was killed because she’d made someone mad, I decided to take another look.

When Sadie found the info on Julian Latham and his travels to South America, it all seemed to fall into place. ”

“So you think the whole note thing was a setup. Just a way to throw the cops off the trail.”

“Yeah, but I could be wrong.”

“You could be. I guess we won’t know till you hear from Morrell, and that could take some time.”

“I hope not.”

“What can I do to help?” Dirk asked.

“I was just about to call Luke. I need to get out of here for a while, clear my head. I thought I’d go back to Val’s, take another look around, knock on some doors, see if someone remembers something they didn’t think of before. We’ve got to come up with a lead.”

“I’ll stay with Val.” Dirk yawned. “I could use a little downtime after all that riding. My muscles haven’t stopped vibrating yet. They think I’m still on the road.”

Ethan chuckled. He was still smiling when his disposable started to ring. He picked it up off the dining table. “Brodie.”

“You been on your computer?” Sadie’s voice sounded sharp over the line.

“Last night, not this morning. Why?”

“They planted some kind of Trojan horse, Ethan. I was afraid of that, so I set up an alert. It’s real smart software. They know it was you looking at them. That’s probably how they found you at Valerie’s place. They’re tracking you through your computer. They know where you are.”

“Christ. You said they. You talking about Latham?”

“Julian Latham and everyone he knows. Not sure where you picked it up. Now get the heck on the road.”

“Thanks, Sadie. I’ll call when we get somewhere safe.”

Val walked out of the kitchen. “I’ve got biscuits in the oven. Breakfast is almost ready, but . . . umm . . . I might have seen something outside.”

“What?” Ethan asked.

“Two men on the lower road. I only caught a glimpse, but it kind of looked like they were trying not to be seen. It’s probably nothing, but—”

Dirk moved toward the window above the kitchen sink. “We got visitors. I can see two from here. Where the hell is Pete?”

Ethan grabbed his shoulder holster and slid it on as he moved to a spot in the dining area where he could see Pete’s location through the trees. “Pete’s down. I can see a little of his rain slicker in the mud behind some bushes.”

“We’re gonna need some firepower.” Dirk started running down the hall.

“What’s going on?” Val asked.

“You need to get down, honey.” Dragging the heavy antique oak dining room table away from the window, he turned it onto its side. “Over here.” He ignored the knot in his stomach and the sudden pallor of her face. “Stay as low as you can and don’t get up. You got your phone?”

She swallowed, nodded.

“Call nine-one-one. You know how to shoot?”

“Bobby taught me.” Her voice shook. “It’s been a long time.”

“Good to know, but it probably won’t come to that.”

Val’s hands trembled as she tugged the disposable out of her pocket and punched 9-1-1.

Dirk raced back into the living room, an AR-15 assault rifle slung across his chest, a tactical vest in his hand. His Browning 9 mil rode in the clip holster at his side. An extra clip protruded from his pocket.

He tossed Val a vest and Ethan a semiauto S&W .45. Ethan checked the clip, racked the slide, and put the safety on, then shoved the second gun into his waistband behind his back. Catching the extra clip Dirk tossed him, he jammed it into his pocket.

While Dirk headed for the rear of the house, Ethan covered the front. As he moved into position next to the dining room window, the first shots rang out, a burst of automatic rifle fire that shattered the glass next to where he pressed against the wall just out of sight.

Ethan stepped out and returned fire, sending one of the attackers running. “Put the vest on, Val.”

She made a sound in her throat.

“Do it, honey.”

From the corner of his eye, he watched her struggle into the vest while trying not to hurt her arm and keep her head down.

“It’s going to be okay,” he said. “We’ve got enough firepower to defend our position till the cops get here.”

More rounds went off, plowing into the windowsill. A couple of shots shattered the glass over the kitchen sink. The men in front moved forward. Ethan fired, taking one of them down. The other fired wildly and ducked into the foliage. Ethan heard Dirk blasting away out back.

“Where’re the police?” Val asked from her place on the floor. “Why don’t the cops come?”

Dirk hurried out of the back wearing a vest and loaded down with more weapons. He grinned. “When seconds count, the cops are only minutes away.”

Ethan just grunted. “What’s going on?”

“They’re on the move. The hill’s too steep at the back of the house. They’ll be coming in the side windows or through the front door.” He tipped his head toward the garage. “You need to get her out of here.”

“We can defend till the cops come.”

“We could—if the bastards hadn’t set the house on fire.”

Ethan’s gaze sliced to Dirk. “You’re fucking kidding me.”

“I wish. My bike’s out front, but you’d be too much of a target. Take the dirt bike. You can get out through the side door in the garage. I’ll throw down enough lead to give you time to get away.”

“What, and you stay here and turn into a crispy critter?”

The corner of Dirk’s mouth lifted a little, then thinned to a grim, hard line.

“I was thinking I’d make a move before it came to that.

” He turned, fired off a round through the kitchen window.

Ethan fired a couple of shots out the dining room window.

On the other side of the living room, he could see the deck burning. No one was coming in that way.

“I can get out,” Dirk continued. “Long as I don’t have to worry about you or Val. Besides, one of you is the target. They’ll be after you as soon as they figure out you’re gone.”

It was a point and a good one. Ethan knew Dirk well enough to believe he could escape.

Ethan could smell the smoke now. The back of the house was burning. The roof was on fire.

Where were the fire trucks, dammit? Where were the effing police? “We gotta go, baby.” She came to her feet, her eyes big and blue and full of trust. Ethan’s jaw hardened. No way was he breaking that trust.

Moving her back from the window, he cinched the black Kevlar vest a little tighter around her, but it was still way too big. Better than nothing, he thought.

“The key to the boat is on the wall by the door,” Dirk said. “If they’ve got the lower road covered, head for the lake, take her out that way.”

A barrage of shots tore through the front door. These guys weren’t waiting. Dirk positioned himself off to one side and blasted back in their direction, cutting the door nearly in half. “Go!” The fire chewed through the ceiling and a chunk of it fell into the hallway.

“Time to move.” Glock drawn, Ethan grabbed the boat key off the wall, opened the door into the garage, dodged a shot that splintered the jamb, and fired, taking down a man near the side door.

He spotted another guy and fired. The man grabbed his bloody leg and jerked back into the cover of the bushes.

Ethan shoved his pistol back into his shoulder holster and ran for the bike, Val close behind him. Grabbing the helmet sitting on the seat, he turned and shoved it on Val’s head, climbed on and turned the key in the ignition, felt her swing on behind him, felt her arms lock around his waist.

“Hang on!” As they shot through the open side door and headed downhill along the narrow dirt path toward the lake, he caught a glimpse of the barrel of Dirk’s AR-15 above them as he fired a short burst out the window, then fired again.

The engine roared as Ethan raced toward the lower road, praying Dirk would escape the house without getting killed.

Or burned up in the fire that was fast collapsing the roof.

A black SUV with dark-tinted windows, a drug dealer’s cliché, sat on the lower road, its engine running.

“It’s them!” Val shouted. Ethan couldn’t believe it when she pulled the .45 out of his waistband behind his back, flipped off the safety, and fired two shots through the windshield. Glass exploded. The car swerved right, then jerked left, then swung right again.

“Hold on!” Ethan gunned the engine and the bike lunged across the road, got a little air and landed on the path on the opposite side.

He could feel Val’s arms lock back around him, the gun still in her hand, the barrel pointed at the ground between his legs.

He hoped like hell she didn’t accidentally pull the trigger.

He almost smiled. Stupid damn time to realize he wanted more kids.

The SUV tore off down the road, tires squealing. They’d be turning at the end of the lane where the road curved down to the lake.

Ethan planned to get there first.

From the bottom of the trail, he could see the dock stretching into the water.

Dirk must have been planning to use the boat because the cover was off.

The bike hit a patch of mud and spun sideways.

Ethan righted it and kept going. He shot onto the wooden dock and slid to a halt.

Shoved the kickstand down with his boot, and the two of them leaped off and ran toward the bright orange twin-engine Scarab.

The jet boat roared to life. Ethan shoved the accelerator forward and the boat jumped out of its berth as if it had been caged too long. The Scarab could really haul ass.

By the time the big SUV pulled up and men began pouring out, taking up firing positions along the dock, the boat was way out in the lake, out of range.

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