Page 53 of Nothing Left

He'd known where he was going. He hadn't fallen to his death. His leap had taken him all the way over the yawning gap between the buildings, and he was now on the roof of the next building, slightly lower and flatter in the middle, without the same network of pipes. Now, he was racing away.

There was no time to think. No time to imagine the dangers. Juliette backed up two strides, and then she launched herself forward with all the strength and determination she possessed. Banishing fear from her mind and trying not to think about the dark alleyway gaping below and the plunging distance down to the road, she launched herself off the rim.

The abyss yawned beneath her. The breeze tugged at her hair.

The wall of the other building was coming up too fast, too soon. Juliette reached out, leaning forward, seeing that her leap was going to take her too short, but determined to save herself, determined to fight.

She landed with one foot on the edge of the rim. Her legs slipped off, flailing into darkness, but her forward momentum meant that her arms were able to grab the rim.

A brick came loose, causing her entire being to flood with coldness as she thought her precarious grip would rely on a falling block. But then she hugged the wall, and she twisted herself over, and she scrambled down onto the roof.

Clambering to her feet, she raced after him, forcing her legs to work even though they were shaking with adrenaline and fright. But now, she was realizing she had a chance. Because she had a better line of sight to him, she was closer now, and there was nothing in the way that might prevent an accurate shot.

If she could clip him in the leg, she could bring him down. She could put an end to this. She had to. What he was doing was reckless, crazy, death-defying.

She would only have one chance; there was only one opportunity, one safe line of sight.

One moment to stop this death machine, and she was shaking all over and not in a good mind frame to make an accurate shot.

Juliette reminded herself there was no such thing as a good mind frame. No such thing as the perfect moment. This was law enforcement, and you played the cards you were dealt as best you could.

Wrenching the gun from out of her holster, she stood, shoulders heaving, watching the fleeing man, judging carefully.

She forced herself to be calm, to be quiet.

Then, she squeezed the trigger.

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

The shot was deafening; the noise exploded in her ears; Juliette held the gun steady as she watched.

He stumbled, and she felt a flare of triumph. She'd aimed for his leg, wanting to slow him, and it looked like her aim had been true.

But then he continued at a limping run, and her heart plummeted. It wasn't over. This wasn't done. He was still trying his best to escape.

She took a deep breath, summoning all her courage to go wherever he was trying to flee. And then she holstered her gun and ran, feeling thankful that this building didn't have the same network of pipes at its top and its roof was flat. She was able to run across it, which meant she could go faster.

And she needed that speed. He was going to be climbing down, and she would have to follow.

As she ran, she reached for the radio on her belt.

"Suspect jumped between buildings," she said breathlessly. "Now on the roof of the apartment north of his. I'm there, too."

No time for more. Time only to follow. And, as she rounded a corner and ran beyond a large water tank, Juliette saw that her desperate shot had found its mark.

At a limping run, he was slowing. His feet were trailing. He was grunting with the effort, but she could see that his ankle was damaged.

No more death-defying jumps. With resolve filling her, Juliette increased her speed and sprinted over to him.

His face was a mask of rage as he turned to her. Injured he might be, but he was ready. The knife was in his hand, and she twisted away, grabbing his arm, yanking it back, and wrenching it violently. Then she shoved him so that his weight went onto his damaged ankle, and with a cry of pain, he stumbled to his knees.

She got the arm up behind him, wrestling to get the knife away, although he was fighting back frantically, and in the dark, it was difficult to see where that long, wicked blade was scything. She would have to hold him here on her own and do her best to handcuff him, no matter how long it took, no matter what the risk of injury to herself might be.

But, at that moment, she heard the thrumming of helicopter blades, and she saw a chopper soar into the sky and bank sharply, heading toward the rooftop, bathing her and Mateo in a bright pool of light. Mateo gave an enraged cry, flinching away from the light, and in the moment of distraction, Juliette was able to wrench the knife away from him. Now, all she had to do was hold him a few more moments until it could land.

The battle was finally over. Thanks to Wyatt and Delgado, backup had arrived.

Now, their killer could be captured at last.

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