Touch & Go (Tessa Leoni, #2)(109)

I was an experienced shooter. If I could just get my hands on a firearm, anything at this point-blank range…

Mick grabbed my shoulders and savagely ripped me away from him. I stumbled, tried to counter with my own body weight, but at a mere hundred and ten pounds…

He threw me across the covered causeway and I felt the instant burn of a hundred tiny rocks ripping the skin from the palms of my hands. I was still trying to climb to my feet when Mick once more assumed the position, legs crouched, blade flashing brightly as he tossed it expertly to his right hand.

I didn’t have any more tricks up my sleeve. I simply raised my head and watched death come for me.

The glass doors of the prison burst open.

Justin lurched into the open space, bright red blood drenching his favorite blue dress shirt, his lips peeled back into an inhuman grimace. Twisting right, spotting me. Twisting left, spotting Mick.

Then lunging head-on at the knife-wielding brute who’d attacked his family.

“Noooo!”

Justin’s scream. My own. Eighteen years of our lives so entangled, including this one final moment.

Mick brought up his blade, half surprise, half defense.

Justin continued charging. And Mick stabbed my husband straight into his chest.

A gasp. A fresh scream. Ashlyn’s this time, from the doorway of the prison, where she’d reappeared, a fifteen-year-old girl still certain her father could slay monsters.

Then, a new sound, faint, but closing the gap.

Sirens. The cavalry, arriving at last.

Too late for Justin.

But maybe…

I glanced up sharply. Saw it clearly in Z’s eyes from where he was crouched in the waiting van. Regret. Not for killing my husband, I was certain. But because they had run out of time to kill us, too.

Justin had collapsed on top of Mick, one arm entangled in the other man’s vest, his body large enough to pin both of them in place. Now Z leapt out of the van. Given the approaching sirens, he seemed to reach some sort of internal decision. Rather than take the time to untangle Justin from Mick’s vest, he helped Mick heave Justin’s flopping corpse into the vehicle, Mick rolling in after him. Then, Z resumed his position.

The van door slid shut.

Radar gunned the engine.

And they roared away. Just like that. Nine million dollars richer. Cold-blooded murderers of my husband. Making their getaway.

My daughter wasn’t screaming anymore. Or crying.

She just stood there, completely shell-shocked.

After another moment, I crossed to her and put my arms around her trembling shoulders. We stood together, listening to the sirens come closer, and wondering if we’d ever again feel safe.





Chapter 39


TESSA SPOTTED LIBBY AND ASHLYN DENBE FIRST. They stood under a covered carport outside the main prison entrance. Libby’s clothing appeared torn to shreds and streaked with blood. In comparison, Ashlyn appeared in relatively better shape, but with a blank expression on her face. Shock, trauma, stress.

Wyatt braked hard twenty feet back, and they threw open the doors, hands on their weapons.

“Libby and Ashlyn?” Wyatt called out, still tucked behind the protective cover formed by his open door.

The woman answered first. Her voice hoarse but surprisingly steady. “Yes.”

“How many remaining on the property?”

“They’re gone. It’s just us. The commandos…all gone. My husband. Gone…” Libby’s voice broke. She folded her arms around her daughter’s still-frozen form, but whether she was seeking comfort or giving comfort remained unclear.

Wyatt and Tessa exchanged glances. In a crisis situation, first order of business was to secure the scene, next tend to the victims, then give pursuit.

They got to work.

In Tessa’s days as a state trooper, she’d carried enough supplies to outfit a small village. Wyatt clearly thought the same. From his trunk, he produced blankets, water and energy bars. Without a word, Tessa went straight to the women, while Wyatt, weapon drawn, conducted a rapid inventory of the building.

“My name is Tessa Leoni,” she introduced herself as she approached, voice calm, movements brisk. “I was hired by Denbe Construction to assist with finding you.”

Libby and Ashlyn both stared at her. Up close, Tessa could see that the girl was unnaturally pale. She was also starting to shake. Small shivers now, but her condition would grow to full-on tremors if not dealt with quickly. Tessa threw two dark wool blankets around the girl’s shoulders, handed her a bottle of water and instructed her to drink.

Libby Denbe was already rubbing her daughter’s shoulders. Her hands appeared lacerated and there were already bruises forming around her face and neck. And yet she still seemed in better shape than her daughter.

“Ashlyn?” Tessa prodded more gently. “Ashlyn, honey, I need you to look at me. You’re going into shock. If we don’t do something about that, you’re going to feel a lot worse in a very short amount of time. I need you to drink some water, maybe have a bite to eat…”

The girl simply stared at her, Libby rubbing, rubbing, rubbing her daughter’s bundled-up form.

Tessa made a second attempt: “Ashlyn. Can you tell me how old you are?”

The girl slowly blinked. Bit by bit, her too-large hazel eyes came into narrow focus, a small frown forming on her brow.