She Can Hide (She Can #4)(82)

Joe froze with indecision. Sweat dripped from his temple down his cheek.

“Minutes, Joe. They’ll be here in minutes.” Abby willed her voice not to shake. Fear shook her bones. Not for herself. That had passed. No, now she was afraid he wouldn’t take her offer. That he had a death wish and he’d want stay here and engage in a go-out-in-a-blaze-of-glory type shoot-out with the police.

But along with the drug high, hope shone through his dilated eyes. Joe didn’t have a death wish. He wanted an out.

“What do you think is going to happen if you stay here?” She inched forward. “I’m the one you’ve wanted all along, right?”

Joe licked his lips. Could he taste his freedom? Abby hoped so. As much as she didn’t want to go with him, she needed to get him away from Derek and Ethan. She couldn’t bear it if anything happened to either of them. She seemed doomed to attract killers anyway. Even if she escaped this one, another was sure to follow. She should never have formed any personal relationships. The danger to Ethan, Derek, and Krista was all her fault.

She moved around Ethan, staying too far away for him to reach her and make her stop.

“Abby, don’t do this,” Ethan said.

She stopped a few feet in front of Joe. “What do you say?”

The answer was in the ready-to-roll set of Joe’s body. “Turn around.”

Abby pivoted, giving him her back. She met Ethan’s gaze across the room. Her own terror was reflected back at her. He silently pleaded with her. But the decision was made.

Joe moved faster than she anticipated. In an instant, he was behind her. One hand grabbed her shoulder. The sharp edge of the knife pressed into the skin of her neck. She arched backward to keep the blade off her neck and the gun in her waistband from touching Joe.

“Don’t come after us. I’ll slit her throat.” Joe steered her away.

“You’re going to kill her anyway,” Ethan said.

“True,” Joe admitted. “But I’ll kill her right now as opposed to later.”

Abby stumbled over something. Without moving her chin, she cast her gaze downward. Mr. Sheridan lay on the kitchen floor. Blood covered his clothing from a gaping wound in his neck. The sight made it very clear what the knife at her neck could do with a small movement. Guilt swamped her, weakening her spine. Mr. Sheridan’s death was all her fault too.

“In there,” Joe prompted.

Abby opened the door in front of her. It led into the two-car garage. Joe’s blue pickup was parked next to Mr. Sheridan’s four-door Mercury. Joe handed keys to Abby over her shoulder. “You drive.”

He pressed a button on the wall. With a whirring noise, the garage door rattled up. Joe pushed her into the passenger side. Lowering the knife to point at her belly, he forced her to scoot across the bench seat of the truck.

OK. This was bad. He had a knife pointed at her side, but she was armed too. And wouldn’t that come as a surprise to Joe? Unfortunately, there was no way she could pull her gun in her current position. She reached for the seat belt.

“No seat belt for you.” Joe flicked the knife across her side. The point ripped through her insulated jacket. “No crashing the car on purpose.” He fastened his own belt.

Still, he couldn’t stab her while she was driving. He’d wait until he was safe before eliminating his hostage. Eventually, they’d stop. All Abby needed was a few feet of space. If she could just get out of arm’s reach, she could shoot him.

“Go!” He poked her in the ribs. Pain burned her side as the knifepoint sank into her skin. Blood trickled warm down her hip.

Abby backed out of the garage into the street. Shifting into drive, she hit the gas too hard. The tires spun. Joe gave her another tiny jab. Blood, wet and warm, soaked her jeans. “Take it easy.”

She eased up on the accelerator. The truck rolled forward, and she drove out of the development. The neighborhood was a gray, wet misery.

“Make a right.” Joe turned on the heater. Warm air blew from the vents, but Abby’s bones shivered.

She made a slow turn onto the country road that led away from town. The asphalt was covered in a thin sheet of freezing rain. Ice clumped on the wipers. She turned on the defrosters.

“Not too fast.” Joe swiveled his head around to look behind them. “We don’t want to attract any attention.”

Sirens wailed, but Abby was driving away from them.

“My luck has finally changed.” Joe opened the glove compartment. Abby’s gut went colder than the slush on the windshield. He pulled out a gun.




Ethan’s lungs seized as the door closed behind Abby and Joe.

No! She was gone. He had to go after her.

A whimper from Derek shook Ethan out of his daze. How badly was the kid hurt?

“You have to find her.” Derek’s shaky words were slurred, and speech was clearly painful.

Sirens wailed thin in the distance.

“I know.” Ethan’s gaze jerked to Krista, unconscious on the floor. Her chest was rising and falling. “Help is on the way.”

Derek nodded, jerking his head toward the door. “Please. Go.”

Ethan ran to the garage. He grabbed a set of keys on a wall peg and jumped in the big sedan. Taking Mr. Sheridan’s car was faster than running back to Abby’s house for the pickup. He stopped at the exit of the development. Which way?