Bound by Blood (Bound #1)(26)

Easing the door open with her shoulder, she kept her gun tight in her hands. Her gut roiled at the sight in front of her. Next to the splatters of blood on the slick tile floor, the pale yellow walls seemed garish and too bright. Right beside the billiard table in the corner of the room, Allen freaking Martin lay on his back. His dark unblinking eyes were wide open, and a look of shock covered his handsome face. Her gut told her he was dead.

Eve hadn’t exactly liked the guy but, damn. She quickly peeked back out the door and when she saw no one was there, hurried over to the body. After spending months embedded with the troops in Afghanistan, she’d seen her share of dead bodies and she had a feeling he was gone, but she checked his pulse anyway.

Nothing.

Crimson flowed from the three gaping holes in his chest and was beginning to pool on the tile floor. The coppery scent of death filled her nostrils.

Instinctively she started to step back. She didn’t want to contaminate the crime scene and she really didn’t want to leave any evidence behind. She had no business being here but she did need to call the cops

—even if she didn’t have much faith in their abilities. Her car was blocks over and she couldn’t waste that much time. She just hoped Martin had a phone on him.

Avoiding the growing pool of blood, she felt the front of his jacket pocket until she found his cell. Once her fingers clasped around it she hurried back to the door. When she looked out she saw the light upstairs in the main house shut off.

Crap!

Whoever had done this was probably coming back. She just couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact that Richard Underwood had shot Allen Martin. Sure, Martin was sleazy, but Underwood was a good, honest DA. Or she’d thought he was. Now it looked like he might be a killer. Hurrying back the way she’d come, she paused once she was outside the fenced yard to use Martin’s phone. She dialed 911.

As soon as the operator picked up she started whispering into the phone. “There’s a dead body at the Underwood mansion. 685 Kent Ave.”

“Ma’am, can you please repeat that address?”

“There’s a dead body in the pool house behind the Underwood mansion on Kent Avenue. Allen Martin has been shot three times in the chest and he’s not breathing. Hurry!”

“Ma’am, are you telling me that Allen Martin is dead in the DA’s pool house?” Eve doubted the operator was supposed to let her disbelief show, but in a small town she’d have no doubt where the Underwood mansion was and exactly who owned it.

She sighed at the woman’s question. The dispatcher should already be contacting a patrol car. Another strike against the police department of Hudson Creek. They’d screwed up the prosecution of the man who’d killed her parents. Why not screw this up too?

“Yes, that’s what I’m telling you. Send someone now. The killer is still here.” It was hard to keep her voice a whisper when she wanted to shout at the operator.

“We’re sending a patrol over but I need to know who I’m speaking to.”

Not freaking likely.

Instead of answering, Eve hung up. She couldn’t afford to say anything else. She’d trespassed on the property and admitting that to the sheriff would give him an excuse to waste hours interrogating her. As she glanced around she realized no one must have heard the shots because the street was deathly quiet. She desperately wanted to wait around and make sure the cops showed up but knew she couldn’t. If they found her here she’d be in a world of trouble. Hurrying, she continued her escape down the sidewalk. When the phone she’d taken started ringing, she jumped. The caller ID screen said restricted.

“Hey, I hear it,” a thick, accented male voice said from behind the fence of the Underwood’s place. Panic jumped in Eve’s chest. She pressed the end button, effectively silencing the call as she started running down the sidewalk. Her boots thudded loudly but there was nothing she could do about it. She wanted to turn it off completely but didn’t have time to waste.

“Hey! Stop!” the same voice shouted behind her a few moments later. A sharp pop blasted through the air and the trunk of one of the trees lining the street splintered. The pop sounded again and Eve felt a gush of air rush past her face. Someone was shooting at her!

Taking a sharp right, she darted across the Hawkins’ lawn. Even though they had an incredible house their security was shit and she knew they had an opening in their wrought iron fence in the backyard. If she could just make it.

Her leg muscles strained and for the first time in years she was thankful for her daily jogging routine. Pumping her arms and legs, she cleared the edge of the house. A spotlight on the side of the house flipped on—likely motion sensors—but she didn’t pause.

It almost felt as if someone was breathing down her neck, but she knew it was fear and adrenaline surging through her. Then she heard a muttered curse farther behind than before. At least they weren’t still shooting. Probably because whoever it was didn’t want to draw more attention to themselves. She needed to make it to the opening and hoped no one saw her slip through. Her car was on the next street over. Her heart pounded that erratic tattoo against her chest as she dove over a cluster of bushes lining the back fence.

Blood rushed loudly in her ears as she began to slowly crawl toward the opening. When the phone started ringing again, her chest tightened. They were trying to track her using the sound. She silenced it again then slid the back casing off. She’d only have a few seconds to do this. Sliding the SIM card out, she put it in her pocket then left the phone lying in the dirt. As she continued crawling, she pulled her gun out. When she reached the small gap in the fence she shimmied under it. Ignoring the dirt coating her hands and the underbrush caught in her cap and clothes, she shoved up and ran through the neighboring backyard.