Page 95 of Bulletproof Jack: Hunting Lee Child's Jack Reacher

Unless he burned her first. Which was his plan.

The path narrowed further and twisted a few times as he inched ahead, bouncing along the ruts and potholes. The tree canopy and low storm clouds conspired together to snuff ninety percent of the natural light.

He couldn’t see much out there. He flipped his parking lights on, but they didn’t help at all.

After another fifty feet, a sharp turn came up fast. He yanked the steering wheel to the right and lifted his foot off the gas. Rounded the turn much faster than he should have. The Range Rover performed as it was intended to do. Which meant the vehicle didn’t flip. It bounced a few times and finally settled into forward motion, still traveling too fast for conditions.

At the last second, he saw the red reflectors.

Taillights, on the back of a dark colored sedan, parked in the center of the two-track, straight ahead.

He slammed the brakes, bouncing over the rutted ground, and came to a stop less than two feet behind the car.

His engine stalled.

Which was fine because he could go no farther.

He squelched his parking lights. He looked around the immediate vicinity seeking anything at all remarkable.

Morin’s phone pinged.

The operative had sent two pictures of the sedan Audrey Ruston drove away from Niagara Falls. He compared the images to the license plate on the vehicle blocking his path. An exact match.

Audrey was here. As expected.

Which was more than okay. Finally, a break.

But he recognized the sedan, too. Independently of the photos. His breathing quickened, keeping pace with his pounding pulse.

This was the sedan he’d seen parked in front of Krause’s garage when he arrived at the Ancaster house a few hours ago.

Which meant Ruston had been at Krause’s place before he died.

Not much of a leap to conclude that Ruston had killed Krause.

Which was the opposite of okay. It was infuriating.

Morin slapped his palm hard on the steering wheel. A low growl rumbled in his throat. He inhaled deeply to suppress the rage Ruston could still ignite without half trying.

Audrey Ruston was trouble. Simple as that. The sooner she was off the board, the better for everyone concerned.

He’d only intended to find her. Wring information from her. Shove her out of the way.

But that was not enough. Ruston was impossibly tenacious. She’d never give up until one of them was defeated.

What the hell was she doing out here? If he found her hunkered down inside that car, he might kill her here and now.

Brax would be outraged, but Morin no longer cared.

Morin swore a blue streak using words no self-respecting gangbanger would utter in a bar fight. His tantrum was fueling his rage instead of squelching it.

Ruston was one infuriating woman.

He took several deep breaths to control himself.

He sent a quick text to the operatives. “Block this path. Let NO ONE enter or leave.”

A fast thumbs-up pinged his phone. Satisfied that Audrey couldn’t escape this time, he dropped the phone into his pocket.

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