Page 94 of High Density

“Of course not,” he brags. “And if it wasn’t for my father’sbuddywalking his dogs and seeing me come down from the trail, no one would’ve been the wiser.”

From the sneer in his voice, I can tell he’s not a fan of his father’s friend.

“Buddy?” I repeat.

“Phil Jericho,” he clarifies, scrutinizing me as I process the shock of hearing that name. “The bastard used it to force me into helping him. How do you think you ended up with the job at the rodeo? You didn’t think that was an accident, did you?”

“Me? Why? Why would he want me?”

“You’re a woman, you’re easier to control,” he states matter-of-factly, shrugging like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Instantly my hackles go up and I react without thinking.

“I guess you were both wrong then,” I snap, regretting it instantly when I see the change in his features.

“The only thing I was wrong about was that asshole tagging along with you,” he says through clenched teeth. “He almostcaught me trying to get that damn pinto back in the trailer, but I nailed him good.”

“And yet he’s the one who found Lacey,” I remind him, irrationally defensive.

“Right,” he drawls, a triumphant smirk on his face. “And isn’t that gonna be the death of him when they find his ex-girlfriend murdered and the vial of ketamine she was shot up with at his house.”

My stomach clenches painfully at hearing Britt is dead, and it has me lashing out.

“They already did, and guess what? No one believes JD did it. You failed.”

In a flash he’s on me, yanking the cap off the syringe with his teeth and trying to jab it in my neck. But I’m not going down easy, twisting and kicking, fighting with everything I have.

Sadly, it’s not enough, as I feel the needle puncture my skin and my world goes black again.

JD

“You’re betteroff going in on foot.”

Jackson’s voice fills the cab of Ewing’s cruiser.

We followed the road around Flower Lake and are now stopped on the shoulder. Just ahead is the turnoff onto a driveway we waited for the drone to scope out first.

“You’re sure the trailer is there?” I ask for confirmation.

“Affirmative. I see two structures, a cabin and some kind of large shelter behind it. It’s covered with camouflage netting and branches, but I’m able to see the trailer tongue poke out. A black truck is parked in front of the cabin.”

“Any movement?” Ewing asks.

“No.”

“We’re going in,” I announce, running out of patience as I reach for the door.

“Like hell you are,” Ewing grumbles, grabbing my arm to hold me back.

“We’re two minutes out with all necessary equipment,” Jackson reminds me. “Hold off and you can go in properly decked out. You’re no good to Janey if you go in blind and he mows you down.”

I grind my teeth, hating that he’s right. At least if I have earbuds, I can get directions from him through the drone’s eyes. The Matrice is relatively silent, and can hover under the cover of trees, remaining virtually invisible.

“Fine,” I concede.

Ewing finds a spot to pull his cruiser off into the trees and we both get out of the vehicle to wait for the others to arrive.

“Keep your cool,” my father warns me as we trudge through the dense underbrush side by side ten minutes later.

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