Page 138 of Lethal Danger

A ringtone sounded, pulling her gaze to her phone where she’d laid it on her lap.

Uncle Pierce’s name appeared on the screen.

The first happiness she’d felt in hours surged up inside her as she lifted the cell. She so needed to hear his loving, approving voice right now. “Hi, Uncle Pierce.”

“Jazz.”

The quiver in the one word sent a chill down her spine. Something was wrong.

“I’ve been taken hostage. By the head of security at the fair. Butch Klika.”

“What?” Not Uncle Pierce. Fear wrenched her stomach. She couldn’t lose him. “Where are you?”

“The fair.” He paused. “He’s watching me right now and has a gun.” Uncle Pierce’s voice became more rigid and controlled, like he was saying only what Butch told him to say. “He wants you to come right now, if you want me to live.”

“I’m on my way.” Jazz turned on the ignition and hit the gas almost before the SUV had started.

“He says no weapons and no dog. If he sees either, he’ll kill me immediately. Please, Jazz, do as he says.” Panic pinched Uncle Pierce’s plea.

Jazz’s chest pinched, her pulse speeding as she fought back tears. She never cried in dangerous situations. She never even felt nervous. She’d been trained, knew what she could handle. Fear had never been her problem. Why now were her fingers trembling on the steering wheel while her stomach tied itself in knots? “I’ll get you free, Uncle Pierce. Don’t wo—”

“Go to the east side employee’s entrance.” Uncle Pierce spoke quickly and robotically, like he’d been prodded to say more. “Enter code six zero six two. Go to the History Center. Jazz, be—”

The line went dead, cutting him off.

Had he been going to tell her to be careful?

Her heart squeezed behind her ribs. His life was in danger, he was being held by a kidnapper, and he still thought of her. If she’d doubted that his change to a loving uncle was possible, she was more than positive now.

A tear escaped and tumbled down her cheek as she raced on the mostly quiet streets to reach the fair. Lucky she hadn’t gone far, thanks to not knowing where to go.

Within five minutes, she spotted the east entrance ahead. She pulled into the empty, small parking lot, running through the scenario and options in her mind as she’d done the whole drive there.

Clever of Uncle Pierce to make sure she knew Butch had a gun. Though that would have been safe to assume since he wore one as security personnel.

If that was all he had for weapons, she should be able to beat him without a problem. But if he held the gun on Uncle Pierce in the right way, things could get trickier.

Jazz turned off the ignition and grabbed her Sig that she’d pulled out of the holster so it wouldn’t dig into her hip while she sat in the car. She tucked it into her waistband behind her back and pulled the holster off, dropping it onto the floor in front of the passenger seat.

She reached for her backpack on the seat and pulled out the dark green PK-9 windbreaker. Didn’t exactly want to show team spirit at the moment, but the jacket would help cover her gun, and the lower nighttime temperature shouldn’t make it too sweltering to wear.

Her knife was still strapped to her thigh. A little too obvious.

She took off the sheath and put it on her ankle, hidden under her jeans.

Flash whined, drawing Jazz’s gaze to him in the rearview mirror.

She turned toward her partner, and he pushed forward so his head fit between the front seats. “Sorry, bud. You can’t go along this time.” A lump slid into her throat. “I can hide my other weapons, but I can’t hide you.”

He whined again and angled his head toward her as he panted heavily, clearly not liking the idea.

“I’m sorry. But I’ll be back before you know it.” She pushed herself up in the seat to press a quick kiss to his forehead, then swung toward the door and hopped out.

She closed the door as quietly as she could. The east entrance was too far from the enclosed History Center for Butch to hear her arrive, assuming he was in that building, but she didn’t want to grab the attention of the other security guards. Their efforts to help, or being seen by Butch if he wasn’t at the Center, could cost Uncle Pierce his life.

She couldn’t risk that.

She’d handled much tougher assignments and even ambushes on her own. Taking down a single armed opponent by herself wouldn’t be a problem.

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