Page 153 of Lethal Danger

He walked through the gate, following them at a distance as he scanned the dark night.

They appeared to be going toward the hedges that bordered the small parking lot all the way to where it met the road.

“Freeze!” Jazz’s shout seemed louder than the lightning as it broke through the air.

A shadow—no, a person—moved in the corner where the hedge changed direction. The person stood. Ran.

Nevaeh took off with Alvarez, headed toward the road but angling to the left, probably to catch him if he tried to turn that direction.

Phoenix stopped and stood still, her dog mimicking her actions.

A shot fired from the shadow. Sounded like a suppressor on a Glock.

But Jazz didn’t return fire. She walked slowly to where the shadow had disappeared into the sheets of rain. Was she frozen because he was her uncle? Maybe she didn’t want to shoot him, despite what he’d done.

Hawthorne had no such compunction. And he wasn’t about to stand there and watch Jazz get hit. He pulled out his Glock and hurried forward.

Another pop split the air.

Hawthorne ducked, but Jazz kept walking.

Pretty sure Cracklen would be running, though stopping to shoot behind him was undoubtedly slowing him down. Hawthorne couldn’t be sure how much, since he couldn’t see the man through the pouring rain and darkness.

If he was still moving quickly, he’d get around the straight, long hedge that ran west and east, and he’d turn right or left at the road.

Nevaeh was covering the left. Hawthorne would get the right.

He climbed over the north-south, five-foot hedge that met with the longer one closer to Jazz. The branches scratched more than he’d expected, but he managed to leave the somewhat damaged hedge behind and moved through the thin stand of trees.

He scanned the long hedge leading to the road as he went, searching for any sign of Cracklen on the other side of it. Though if the man was crouched low, Hawthorne probably wouldn’t see him above the five-foot hedge.

“Flash, fass!” Jazz’s voice, strong and commanding, pierced through the night.

Movement above the hedge caught Hawthorne’s eye.

What—

A silhouette moved above the hedge, like something flying over it.

Lightning lit the sky, letting Hawthorne see clear as day.

But he couldn’t believe what he saw.

Flash flew, literally flew over the hedge, his feet stretched out in front of him and behind him. How he stayed suspended in the air for so long, Hawthorne couldn’t fathom.

But the Malinois kept soaring, all the way to the end of hedge that had to be at least twelve feet long. Then he dropped out of sight.

Loud snarls echoed.

Jazz sprinted past the hedge on the other side, and Hawthorne took off in the same direction, headed for the road.

He dashed out between trees, coming around the end of the hedge.

Jazz stood near Flash, the K-9 biting down on Cracklen’s left arm as he moaned. “You’re not taking my dog from me, too.”

Hawthorne’s gaze caught on the knife hilt sticking out of Cracklen’s right shoulder. Jazz must have thrown the knife to stop Cracklen from shooting Flash.

Jazz glanced at Hawthorne, her eyebrows raising before she glared down at Cracklen again. “Flash, in ordnung.”

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