Page 119 of Lethal Danger

“Dude,” Zeke leveled a stare at Hawthorne as he munched the pizza in his mouth, “like hundreds or thousands of people.”

“But you noticed the girl. Anyone else you noticed?”

“A few more girls, but they weren’t going to smoke. Security guards. They’d been all over us the whole night. Kept making us move on whenever somebody thought we talked too loud or something. I think they were tailing us after the one dude started a fight with that cheat at the air rifle targets.”

The security guards probably had followed them, and rightfully so. Sounded like Zeke and his pals had made a significant nuisance of themselves. Enough that Dan Harris still remembered them two years later. “Could you see Sam in the designated smoking area from where you were in line?”

“Uh…” Zeke closed the pizza box. “Not really.”

“And you never saw him again after that.”

Zeke pushed his fingers through his hair and shook his head. “Never.”

Except for the killer Hawthorne was now certain existed, he was pretty sure no one else had seen Sam after that either. Not alive.

Gravel kicked up behind Jazz, skimming her calves beneath her three-quarter leggings as she sprinted up the steep incline.

Flash outpaced her and ran ahead, clearly enjoying the freedom to test his speed on the quiet wooded trail.

They’d passed some walkers about two miles back but otherwise had the trail all to themselves. She brought her wrist toward her face to check her watch. Almost seven thirty. The time when Hawthorne’s text had said he’d meet her at the lookout he would drive up to from the other side of Elk Horn Trail.

Her heart rate double-timed. And not because of her fast pace or the climb.

She could already picture it—hunky Hawthorne standing with her on the lookout, checking out the view. But mostly enjoying gazing at each other.

He hadn’t said in the text why he wanted to meet. Just that he had something to tell her. Could that something be that he wasn’t going to leave after all? That he’d fallen for her?

Her throat tightened at the possibility. Which wasn’t helpful for running.

Flash circled back to her to check in as usual, then sprinted ahead up the incline like it was nothing.

“Show off!” Jazz managed to call, finally feeling short of breath.

Just before he would’ve been out of sight, Flash stopped. He spun toward Jazz and barked, charging at her.

She braked, staring at Flash, expecting him to stop and signal what was wrong. “Wha—”

He flew off the ground, launching himself into her chest.

The wind whooshed from her lungs as she fell backward.

Just as the ground exploded.

Thirty-Three

The distinctive blast yanked Hawthorne back to his Marine Corps days. That sound. The damage and havoc it wreaked.

Explosives.

Jazz was supposed to be on that trail. Close.

Hawthorne took off, sprinting away from the lookout onto the three-foot-wide trail.

Barks, like those he’d heard right before the blast, came from somewhere around the curve ahead.

A black and tan body whizzed into view.

Flash.

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