Deadly Lies (Deadly #3)(45)

“Turn around and walk away!” The order was barked at them. “If either one of you looks back, I’ll put a bullet in both of you.”

Max’s body tensed. “What about Quinlan? When do we get him back? When?”

“When the money’s counted,” the man taunted. Max saw the jerk’s finger tighten around the trigger. “Now move or I’ll tell my friend here to shoot the old man in the head.”

Max believed that he’d do it. Slowly, carefully, he turned around.

“Keep your damn arms up, every minute! You got me? Keep ’em up!”

Max kept his arms up and started walking away with Frank by his side. And with guns pointed at their backs.


“Two with guns,” Jon Ramirez’s low voice drifted through the earpiece Luke wore. Luke bent down, pretending to tie his shoe near the entrance of the park. “Drop’s been made. Ridgeway and Malone are walking away.”

“Stay with the perps,” Luke ordered quietly, speaking into the mouthpiece that was hidden just inside the hood of his jogging suit. Two men. Figured. They’d separate as soon as they left the park to make tracking harder. Smart. Not smart enough.

“You and Hyde break off, each taking a perp,” because the big boss was out there watching too, “and let’s see where they’re gonna take us,” he ordered.

“They’ve got the money. They’re moving.”

Luke rose and made a show of stretching. Every muscle in his body was tight with tension. One dead vic already today. Not another.

“No visual on Ridgeway and Malone. Perps are in sight. Out.”

Ridgeway and Malone should be rounding the corner any minute and coming back out of the thick forest path. They’d be clear in just a few more moments. Hurry up.


Max’s hands were still up. The thud of footsteps disappeared into the distance. The *s, running away with their money.

But they wouldn’t get far. And right then, Max was real glad the SSD was hiding in those woods.

“Are we clear?” Frank asked, and Max saw him begin to lower his arms.

Then he heard the twig snap behind them. Too damn close.

If either of you looks back, I’ll put a bullet in both of you.

He let his hands lower. Slow. Easy. Frank had flinched. He’d heard the snap, too.

Not gonna wait until we look back, are you? Max sucked in a breath and slammed into Frank. Fire ripped along his left arm, a blast of pain accompanied by no sound. Sonofabitch. As his blood spilled onto the ground, Max yanked out Samantha’s gun.

Another man—no, one from before? He couldn’t tell for sure. Max just saw a man in a black jogging suit with a black ski mask, his gun up and aiming—

Max lifted his own weapon. No cover. Shit. “Get to the trees.” He fired at the bastard.

The bullet thudded into the man’s shoulder. Can’t kill him. He knows where Quinlan is.

The man screamed. A loud, long shriek of pain and rage.

Max lunged for the trees and fired again as the * lifted his gun and shot back at him.


“Gunfire!” Luke took off running, aware that the woman with the short blond hair and bright pink jogging suit was right with him. Moving fast, faster… Running toward the thunder of gunshots even as everyone else streaked away in a mass of confusion and fear.

The woman was Sam in disguise, because he’d ordered her in right after Malone and Ridgeway left the house. She kept perfect pace with him as they rushed for the line of trees. They rounded the corner and went in low, sticking to the tree line as much as possible, and Luke saw…

Blood, staining the ground. Ridgeway and Malone weren’t there. No one was there and—

“Here!” A deep, booming voice called from the brush.

“Max,” Sam whispered and raced forward in a flash, snaking through the trees as Luke stuck tight to her tail.

“Secure the area,” Luke snapped into his mike. “We’ve got men down in the first quadrant. The perps are armed. Use extreme caution.”

“Max?” Sam fell beside him.

He blinked at her, shaking his head. “What the hell? You aren’t supposed to be here!”

“She’s an agent with the SSD.” Luke kept his gun up. “She’s wherever we need her to be.”

Blood dripped down Max’s arm in thick, dark rivulets. Sam clamped her hands over his wound. “How bad?”

“Went right through.” Sweat beaded his upper lip. “Just hurts like a bitch.”

“Malone?” Luke questioned the other man. He was kneeling on the ground and hunched forward.

“I’m all right.” Gruff. “Bastard shot at me and would have blasted a hole in my head if Max hadn’t been here.”

Luke noticed both men still had guns in their hands. Holding ’em tight.

“Who are we looking for?” Sam asked as she worked to staunch the blood from Max’s wound. “Who did this?”

“Don’t… ah… didn’t see much… a guy from the looks of things. Maybe six two, two hundred pounds, black jogging suit—”

“Two men wearing all black,” Frank muttered, his knuckles white around the gun. “We gave them the money and they tried to kill us.”

Not part of the MO. What was going down here?