Page 37 of Lone Star Protector

The crying picked up pace, and Jordana was now gulping in large, hiccupping breaths. But that stopped when there was a sound in the distance.

Police sirens.

The fire returned to her eyes and expression. “You called the cops on me?” Jordana growled.

“No, I called the cops on the shooter who tried to kill us,” Nash clarified. “If that happens to be you—”

“Fuck off,” Jordana snapped.

“The cops will want to speak to you,” Nash pointed out, but he was talking to the air because Jordana was already turning the car around.

“Want me to go after her?” Slade asked.

“No.” Nash didn’t hesitate either. “The cops will do that. I don’t want the gates open until I’m sure she’s gone.”

After what’d just happened to them, Caroline was relieved about that decision. But it did lead her to another of those big questions. Where would Nash and she go? They couldn’t stay here because, like her place, it was now a crime scene where things would have to be searched and processed.

“I don’t want to go to my mother’s,” Caroline threw out there as a preemptive strike.

Nash turned to her but then just as quickly turned back to the screen when Oz spoke. “A county deputy is at the gate, and the drone has detected something. Footage is loading to monitor now.”

“The cop will have to wait,” Nash told Oz. “I want to see what the footage is.”

“Maybe the drone is following Jordana,” Slade muttered.

But when the feed appeared, Caroline saw it wasn’t of the driveway to Nash’s house or the nearby road. Not of Jordana’s car or the motorcycle in the ditch either. This was a small clearing in a heavily treed area.

And there was something dark in the center of it.

“Where is that?” Caroline asked.

Nash continued to study the feed. “I’m not sure. Oz, ask the drone operator for coordinates of the location of this image.”

It didn’t take long for Oz to obtain that info, and Nash pulled up a map on his phone. “It’s a half mile from here and a quarter of a mile from the motorcycle. And it’s not easy to access because of some deep gulleys and a mineral spring. The only way to get there is on foot.”

The person operating the drone did some maneuvering, adjusting the camera and dropping down lower to zoom in on the dark object.

Caroline saw it then. Saw what it was.

A body.

Sweet heaven. It was a body.

The person was sprawled out and turned to the side so she couldn’t tell who it was, but judging from the size, it was a man. One wearing all black and with a rifle next to him.

“I’m pretty sure that’s the shooter,” Nash commented.

“Yes,” Caroline muttered, and she pinned her attention to the monitor as the drone did another adjustment, moving closer, going to the other side of the body. “Is that blood on the side of his shirt, or is it just wet?”

“It’s blood.” Nash touched the image pointing to the person’s neck.

Where there was some kind of injury. A bullet hole maybe.

“Oz, instruct the drone operator to zoom in on the person’s face,” Nash said.

It took several moments, but the drone responded, dropping down until it was practically eye level with the body.

Oh, God.

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