Page 12 of Lone Star Secrets

That was all the warning she got before Angel moved around RJ and her and raced to the driver’s side door. It wasn’t far, but since it could make him an easier target, it seemed to take an eternity for him to reach it. He yanked open the door and dived inside.

In the distance, Mia heard the sound of a police siren. Danno had no doubt already alerted the cops about the shooter, and they clearly weren’t making a silent approach.

How would the gunman react to police arriving?

Would he stop firing and run, trying to escape? Or would he only amp up his efforts to kill them?

She soon got her answer.

And it was the last one.

The shots started coming at them nonstop, and the shooter seemed to be adjusting his angle, too. Or else he was adjusting his position on the tree branch. Of course, there was another possibility. A worse one.

That there could be two gunmen.

Even though it was next to impossible to focus, she looked at the drone feed, and like before, she saw the sun flashing off the metal. Or was that the gunfire? Hard for her to tell since she had next to no experience with firearms. But she kept watching, kept looking for anything that would identify who was doing this.

A few seconds later, Angel barreled out of the van door, and he did indeed have a rifle with him. And the shooter must have spotted him because the shots immediately shifted in Angel’s direction.

Sweet heaven.

He could be shot.

Reacting purely on instinct, Mia yelled, yanked off her flipflop and tossed it into the air. And the pseudo Hail Mary worked. Because the gunman shifted and fired at it.

And in that split-second, she saw him.

Not his face, but the black hoodie covering his head and the ski mask he was wearing. There was nothing visible that helped her figure out who this was. In fact, she realized it could even be a woman.

“Nice move with the flipflop,” Angel said, dropping down beside her. “It’s shot to hell and back.”

It was. Mia glanced at the mangled remains on the ground behind her. “Better the shoe than your head. Please tell me you’re going to stay down?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

No.

He wouldn’t be staying down. Not a chance. He was going to lever himself up, take aim, and try to shoot their attacker. Mia had to remind herself that Angel was no stranger to this kind of danger. He’d likely faced it in the military and as a cop. Still, it ate away at her like acid to think that he could be killed by some SOB trying to cover up a crime.

Angel’s phone flashed with a text. “It’s from Presley,” she relayed to him. “He’s five minutes out.”

Judging from the sound of the sirens, the deputy was much closer than that, but Angel clearly wasn’t going to wait on them. He got the rifle into position, gathered his breath and lightning fast, he stood, crouching some but still with his head and torso higher than the hood of the van.

He fired.

Ducked back down.

And then repeated the process.

Babbling out every prayer she could think of, Mia volleyed glances between Angel and the drone feed. On his third shot, she finally saw what she wanted to see.

The shooter dropped from the tree.

Not a jump but a fall.

And the shots stopped.

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Chapter Five

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