Finlay Donovan Knocks 'Em Dead(Finlay Donovan #2)(88)

“Where is he?” Vero asked over the pop of gunfire.

“I don’t know. He must be trapped behind his car. We have to do something.” The gunmen wouldn’t let up, one shooting as the other reloaded, windows shattering as they fired at the swirling blue lights. I ducked under the window, dragging Vero down with me. “We have to make a distraction. Something big enough to draw their attention from Nick.” It would take something brighter and louder to drag their focus away from his car. My eyes darted over the kitchen for anything we could use. Blue light shimmered off the fallen wine bottle on the table.

“I have an idea. Come on!” Ignoring the bite of broken glass, I crawled toward the table on knees and elbows with Vero shimmying behind me. Reaching blindly above me, I felt for the bottle and passed it to Vero. Theresa yelped as I plucked the other bottle from her hand and poured the contents on the floor.

“I was drinking that!”

Vero was tight on my heels as I carried the bottle on hands and knees to the sink. “This is a very bad idea, Finlay!”

“We have to do something! They’re making Swiss cheese out of Nick’s car!”

I rummaged through the cabinet, shoving aside rolls of paper towels and trash bags until I found a jug of glass cleaner. I unscrewed the cap and sniffed. The fumes pinched my throat and my eyes burned. “Find me a towel.”

Vero reached around me and snapped the dish towel off the handle of the fridge, tearing it into two long strips as I poured glass cleaner down the necks of both bottles. I handed one to Vero. We stuffed the ends of the cloth strips inside them and scuttled with them toward the stove. Vero reached up and switched on one of the burners. We held up the bottles, dangling the cloth over the flame. When they caught with a whoosh, we rushed on elbows and knees to the broken window, ducking as another round of gunfire exploded outside.

“On the count of three,” I shouted over the din.

“Wait,” Vero said, “on three or after three?”

“Just throw it!” Theresa shouted.

Together, Vero and I hurled the bottles toward the flashes of the men’s muzzles. Glass shattered. The bottles exploded with a roar of flames. Feliks’s men screamed, leaping out from behind the trees they’d been using to shield themselves.

Vero pointed at a burst of movement behind Nick’s car. I spotted the back of his jacket as he darted behind a tree for cover. Nick turned, weapon drawn. He aimed toward Feliks’s men and fired. One of the men cried out and dropped. Nick fired off another series of shots, and the second gunman went down.

The gunfire stopped. The night fell silent except for the low hum of Nick’s engine and the snap and hiss of fire in the yard. I couldn’t see anything through the thick bands of smoke and the relentless swirl of blue lights.

Glass crackled in the kitchen behind us. Ted, Barbara, Aimee, and Theresa crept out from under the table, coming up alongside Vero and me to peek out over the window frame.

A groan came from somewhere in the woods.

“Nick!” I scrambled to the door, my sneakers slipping on broken glass. I could hear Vero shuffling behind me as I burst out onto the front porch. “Nick! Where are you?”

“Finn?” His voice broke on a shout. “Get down! It’s not safe.”

Mrs. Westover rushed into the yard, standing over one of Feliks’s men with her shotgun. She nudged him with her toe. Ted stood over the other, checking for a pulse. He shook his head.

“It’s okay,” I called out. “It’s over.”

Nick moaned. I followed the sound and found him sitting against the back of the tree. He clutched his arm, holding it close to his body. The smell of blood was thick in the air. I knelt beside him, heart still hammering as I searched him for injuries. The tree blocked the light from the house, and I couldn’t see anything but the dark outline of his body. The screen of Vero’s phone lit up as she dialed 911.

“I’m okay. It’s just a graze.” He started to get up but quickly changed his mind. He hissed, grabbing his left thigh. “Aimee and Theresa … where are they?”

I looked over my shoulder. Theresa stood in the middle of the yard, spraying an extinguisher at the flames. Aimee stomped on the sparks that the wind had carried. “Putting out the fire.”

“Is everyone okay?”

“Everyone but you.” I switched on my phone light, trying to get a better look at his wounds.

“I’ve been through worse.” His smile was unconvincing, his voice strained.

“Hello, nine-one-one?” Vero said. “I’ve got an emergency. This is—”

“Please don’t say it,” I murmured, squeezing my eyes shut.

“This is Officer Ruiz. I need a medic! I’ve got an officer down. I repeat, I’ve got an officer—”

Nick reached to snatch the phone from her hand. “This is Detective Nicholas Anthony with Fairfax PD…” Nick gave the dispatch operator our address and requested an ambulance. He disconnected and handed Vero back her phone, resting his head against the tree as he held his arm. “Do you mind calling Joey for me?” he asked her. Vero dialed Joey’s number as Nick rattled it off. She plugged one finger in her ear and moved a few feet away from us.

I peeled back Nick’s sleeve for a better look. “How’d you figure out Aimee and Theresa were here?”