Page 120 of Crosshairs

“He ... wanted money, and when we didn’t have any, he wanted Jesse’s marijuana stash. That’s where they’ve gone. Him and Jesse.”

“Did your husband kill Hannah Dyson?”

Her eyes grew round, and she turned even paler. “He didn’t mean to.” Tears formed in her eyes. “Jesse found out Colton had given her a bag of marijuana. He just wanted it back, butshe ran. Made him mad.” Suddenly she clasped her hand over her mouth. “He’ll kill me,” she moaned. “You can’t tell him I told...”

Ainsley squeezed her shoulder. “Don’t worry. He won’t hurt you again.”

“You don’t know him.”

“Do you know where they’re going?”

Alma stared wild-eyed at her, then she pressed her lips shut and shook her head.

She knew, all right, Ainsley was certain of it. “You’ve got to tell me, or Colton might die. I just saw him, and he had a gun.”

“Colton? No ... No!” She buried her face in her hands. “The marijuana is buried in the cemetery at the old Methodist church.” She grabbed Ainsley’s arm. “Please, you’ve got to help Colton. That man will kill him.”

Ainsley raced to the Tahoe and hopped in on the driver’s side. She pulled another magazine out of her backpack and slid it into her pants pocket. Wheeling the Tahoe around, she drove to the main road and hung a right, gunning the SUV forward.

Sam would never make it in time. She called him anyway. Even though he was rushing toward them, he was still fifteen minutes away. She quickly explained what was going on and where she was headed. Ainsley wasn’t too worried about Linc—he didn’t have a gun, so he would hold back, waiting for her to catch up. He better hold back. Linc didn’t have a Kevlar vest on.

She stopped on the west side of the church and parked, quietly closing the Tahoe door. A quick scan of the woods didn’t find Linc.Where is he?With her gun drawn, Ainsley skirted to the right of the old oak where Hannah had been found. That way, she could come up on the cemetery from the wooded section that bordered it and the church.

She reached the side of the church and peeked around the corner, zeroing in on Jesse and Colton on the ground with their hands and feet tied. He’d used their shirts to gag them. A shovelleaned against one of the tombstones. Their captor was nowhere to be seen.

Ainsley scanned again for Linc, and something moved in the woods near the far corner of the cemetery. She caught her breath as he crawled from the edge of the trees.

Something cold and hard pressed against the back of her neck.

“Well, well, well. Who do we have here? Drop your gun and join your friends.”

He didn’t try to disguise his voice this time, and Ainsley recognized it. “You won’t get away with this,” she said, dropping her weapon. “Backup is on the way.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it is.” He pushed her forward. “Move.”

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Linc raised up from his position on the ground. The man who had Ainsley fit the sketch of Maddox. He’d called 911, but help from Port Gibson was at least twenty minutes away. He didn’t know how far away Sam was.

Saving Ainsley was up to Linc. A bead of sweat rolled into his eye, blurring his vision. He rubbed his face on his shirtsleeve and looked again. The Masons were bound and lying on the ground. Ainsley walked slowly toward the gate with the escaped convict behind her. Maddox pushed her through the enclosure, and she stumbled.

With Maddox distracted, Linc belly-crawled through the high weeds to a dead cedar, its bare branches covered in Spanish moss. Gnats buzzed his head.

The old church was to his right. To his left a shoulder-high crypt offered a hiding space and should get him close enough to hear their conversation.

He waited. Maddox turned his back to Linc as he tied Ainsley’s hands. Where had he gotten the rope? He’d come prepared, but why? He couldn’t have known she was coming here—her trip to Rocky Springs this morning had been spur-of-the-moment. No, he’d come for another reason, and fate had put her in his hands.

Linc dashed to the low brick building and dropped downbehind it. He worked his way around to the far side and peeked around the corner.

“Not so smart now, are you?” Maddox was saying. “Where’s my wife?”

“I don’t know.”

Maddox backhanded her, the sound like the snap of a branch. Linc fisted his hands, pressure building in his chest. He reached for the pistol in his ankle holster, his fingers shaking so hard that they fumbled the snap.

“Leave her alone!”

He jerked his head toward them again.

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