Page 35 of Fireline

Nova stomped on the brakes and slammed her Bronco into Park at the abandoned one-horse ghost town slash movie set. She’d been around guns her entire life. There was no mistaking it.

That sound had been a gunshot.

She reached under her seat and pulled her Glock 21 out of the holster. With the bears that roamed the woods, she usually carried the .45 ACP hand cannon on her jumps. She’d shoved it into her car to lock it up after the last fire.

Booth hadn’t been responding to her calls and texts. Of course, she hadn’t responded to his at first. That moment with Booth had her rattled, and she couldn’t trust herself with words. But work took precedence, and they’d been called out on an emergency deployment minutes after Booth’s text saying he’d hitched a ride here.

But why? What was he doing here anyway?

It didn’t matter. If someone was shooting at him, maybe it would be helpful to have someone shooting back, at least to lay down some cover for him to get away and give authorities time to get here.

A man crashed out of the movie-set jail covered in blood.

“Hey! Stop!” Nova shouted before her brain comprehended the danger.

What was she doing? The man could shoot her dead on the spot. She didn’t see a gun, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t armed.

The man cast a quick glance over his shoulder, still running. Their eyes locked for a fleeting second before he disappeared around the corner.

Oh no…Booth!

Nova sprinted across the gravel road and slid to a stop in the doorway of the darkened jail.

Booth was on his knees, hands pressed into the shoulder of a man on the floor. “Crispin! C’mon, man. Stay with me.”

She gaped at the man on the floor. “Is that…is that Sophie’s brother?”

Booth looked up, eyes wide, hair falling into his face. He shook it back. “Nova? What are you doing here?”

“I—”

“Never mind. Do you have your phone? I think mine fell out in Houston’s truck.”

“Yeah, I tried to call you but kept getting voicemail.” She crossed the room and crouched beside Booth.

Crispin looked bad. Real bad. One eye was closed, and she doubted he could open it, even if he tried. He had a split lip. Cuts and scrapes on his face. A gash along his hair line. Someone had worked him over.

Booth had taken his flannel off and wadded it up as a makeshift bandage. He held pressure on Crispin’s shoulder. “It’s a through and through. Don’t think it hit anything vital. It’s the rest of it I’m worried about.”

“What can I do?”

Booth shot her a worried glance. “Call an ambulance.”

Crispin groaned. “No…no hospital.”

“Sorry, pal. You’ve been shot. Need to get you patched up and back to work.” Booth flicked his eyes to Nova and mouthed, Call.

Nova nodded and tucked her weapon into her waistband. She shuffled to the doorway and scanned the area for signs of the gunman. He was probably long gone by now. Whoever he was.

There were so many questions running through her head, but first, she made the call and requested an air ambulance.

Once she confirmed their location, dispatch said, “The medevac chopper will be on the ground in thirty minutes. Can you package the patient?”

“I have a medical kit. Best I can do is first aid and cover him with a blanket.”

“That’ll do. Keep him stationary. Let the EMTs move him.” Dispatch wanted Nova to stay on the line, but her battery was low. “I’ll keep my phone close. Call when they’re a few minutes out.”

She ran to her SUV and grabbed the supplies. Returned to Booth and knelt across from him. “Medevac will be here soon. Let me bandage his wound.” She popped the latch on her kit and found the gauze pads.

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