Page 76 of Last Chance Christmas
“We can make it ten by car.” Thomas’s breath came in pants.
At least Thomas had the same idea. Cole wanted to take the fast route. No way could they let Mackey gain extra ground.
More precipitation hit Cole’s skin and stung his cheek. Hard pellets dropped faster to the ground. Great. His car might be equipped to handle the snow, but if the sleet kept up, it could delay their ETA.
“Be careful, you guys.” Ramble’s voice deepened. “The radar shows more precipitation in the forecast for the next hour.”
“Work crews should be out treating the roads.” Cole walked faster, his eyes focused on the trail so he wouldn’t slip and fall. They just had to get out of this remote area first. Once they were on main roads, they shouldn’t have a problem.
“They can only work so fast. A car careened into the guardrail and crashed at the overlook. The tip on Mackey’s sighting came in from the driver. Kianna and Trace are en route too.”
Kianna.
Cole’s breath caught in his throat. It had only been a few days since he’d seen the Eastside Firehouse EMT. They had both witnessed the aftermath of the initial collision with the transport van carrying the convicts.
Kianna was gifted at what she did. Her calm demeanor and peaceful disposition were evidence she was in the right profession. Someone could be bleeding out, but she had a way of keeping them from panicking while she did her job. Not to mention she was gorgeous. Her face entered Cole’s mind—the way she smiled at someone like they were the most important person in the room.
Cole’s foot caught on a branch covered with leaves, and he jerked forward. Titan let out a bark. Cole compensated with his other foot and caught himself.
“It’s okay, Tite.” He smiled at his partner, even while his own pulse skittered.
“You good?” Thomas raised a brow.
Cole nodded and clamped down on his lips.
Now was not the time to think about Kianna. Not when she could be stripped from him in the blink of an eye. He’d seen it happen before. Which meant there was no use hoping for something that would only end in heartache.
Cole had to keep his head on straight. Focus on what lay ahead, not behind. And right now, that meant doing his job.
The tree line opened up into the parking lot, where his cruiser was the lone vehicle.
Thomas slid into the passenger seat while Cole opened the back for Titan to climb in. Once his K-9 was settled, Cole got into the driver’s side and turned on the ignition, then put the heat on full blast.
“That feels good.” Thomas leaned closer to the vents and took his gloves off.
Titan must have sensed the warm air too, because he turned around in his kennel and stuck his head between the bars, lifting his snout.
“Attaboy.” Cole smiled, then put the car in reverse. “Time to go catch this killer.”
He pulled out onto the road. Sleet pinged off the windshield. The car’s wipers swished in a rapid motion to clear away the precipitation.
Five minutes later, Cole turned onto a main road. A plow truck drove past in the opposite direction, sprinkling salt behind it. Cole waved to the guy.
“They’re making our job easier.” Thomas leaned forward and saluted the driver.
“Thank the Lord.” Cole followed the curve of the road, then hit the accelerator to climb the short hill. He eased up on the gas as the approaching stoplight turned yellow. “The roads still covered fast.” He pressed down on the brakes, which kicked back from the slush.
He lifted off the pedal, then pushed down again. Except the tires didn’t catch traction, and the front of the car veered to the left.
“Whoa, man. Watch the ditch.” Thomas gripped the door handle.
Cole tightened his grasp on the steering wheel, fighting the urge to swing to the right and overcorrect. “I’m trying.”
The car straightened but gave no sign of stopping as it continued to slide toward the intersection.
“We’re going to run this light.” Cole steeled his back against the seat. “Is there any oncoming traffic?” His voice rose a notch, and he glanced to the left.
“We’ve got another plow truck coming up on our right,” Thomas shouted and tapped the window.
