Page 152 of Lethal Danger

“Where’s Cora?”

“She stayed with the girl.” Nev breathed hard as she answered. “Who is she?”

“I don’t know. Pierce said she showed up when he was killing Butch, so he kidnapped her. Used her to hold me off.”

“Nice.”

Jazz knew Nev meant the opposite, though the sarcastic tone was lost in her heavy breathing.

Jazz pushed harder. They were close now. Just a few more seconds.

There.

She broke through onto the main path, the east gate to her left.

She stopped in front of it.

The gate was closed. No sign of anyone approaching from the main path. Should they stay and wait for him? Or had he already escaped?

Flash growled, then barked. The Malinois faced his ready stance toward the gate.

“Got it, bud.” Jazz threw a glance at Nev and Phoenix as she went to the gate.

“Wait a sec.” Nev stepped closer, pulling a gun from behind her back instead of her holster. “You took off so fast, I didn’t get to give you this. Sof left one of her guns for you to use.”

A laugh tumbled from Jazz’s lips. Sof and her portable arsenal. Jazz took the Glock from Nev’s hand.

“We got your back, Jazz.” Nev’s words landed in Jazz’s heart, sparking more tears again. Good grief. She and Nev needed to have a long chat after this was all over, so she could say all her sorrys and hopefully get over being so emotional. Though maybe she’d always be emotional about almost losing Nev.

Flash’s growl brought her back to the task at hand, and she hurried to open the gate. She stepped through, watching her peripherals, though she doubted Pierce would be waiting to ambush anyone.

He’d be desperate to get away as fast as he could.

Flash rumbled, a sound echoed by Dag and Alvarez. The K-9s stared in the same direction.

Toward a shadow that suddenly moved.

Forty-Five

The east gate was open as Hawthorne approached, pulling his sprint to an abrupt halt.

A rumbling sound filtered through the opening. Not loud enough to be thunder.

A dog?

Hope squeezed his chest. Flash and Jazz?

Not wanting to spook them or interfere with their effort to catch Cracklen, he walked to the gate as quietly as he could.

The falling rain broke around the outline of three women and their dogs. One of them stopped and faced him.

Phoenix, judging from the cap.

He held up a hand in a still wave, hoping she’d recognize him.

She must have because she rotated forward again and followed the other two women. One wore a red jacket, and the silhouette of her head shaped in a mass of what could only be Nevaeh’s curls.

His gaze hopped quickly to the third person. Tall, slim, and decidedly feminine. Jazz.

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