Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 99132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 496(@200wpm)___ 397(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Walter’s gaze traced the routes, his jaw set. “He could be coming right here.”
“You both need to keep your heads down.” Nester’s expression was tense, his eyes glancing from Walter to Laurel.
“Understood,” Laurel said. “Let’s go.”
Nester cleared his throat. “Rachel Raprenzi called again about her interview with Abigail tomorrow night on The Killing Hour. She really join.”
Laurel gritted her back teeth together.
Nester held up a hand. “That’s pretty much what I told her.”
Laurel nodded and then hurried out of the office and down the stairs, her boots echoing against the steps as she and Walter descended to the vestibule.
Huck was waiting for them, already armed and practically vibrating with impatience. Aeneas sat expectantly next to him, his ears twitching. “My Zoom meetings went long and I was just leaving when Nester called.” Huck crossed his arms over his chest, his expression grim. “I’m armed. If I can’t stop you from going, which I know I can’t, I’m going with you.” His voice was firm. “I know that area like the back of my hand. Aeneas and I have spent plenty of time on that mountain.”
Laurel gave a single, terse nod.
“All right, let’s go.” Huck’s gaze swept the parking lot before he pulled the door open. He glanced around, his phone in his hand. “I don’t feel anybody out here, but let’s make sure.” His thumb scrolled through the camera feeds, the screen’s glow reflecting off his tense expression. “Okay. We’re good. Let’s get to the truck.”
Outside, a light spring rain had started to fall, the drizzle cool against Laurel’s face as they strode toward the truck. The parking lot was a mix of shadows and dim lights, the air thick with dampness. She climbed into the front passenger seat, her eyes constantly scanning their surroundings as Walter took the back seat. Huck placed Aeneas in his crate and then jumped into the driver’s seat, igniting the engine and backing out of his parking spot.
Her phone buzzed. She glanced down at the screen and then answered. “Agent Norrs. It’s Agent Snow, and we’re on our way out to Stony Mountain and the pass toward Canada. Or Genesis Valley, I suppose. We’re about an hour and a half ahead of you,” Laurel said, her voice clipped but steady. “I have Agent Smudgeon and Captain Rivers with me.”
“Good. Isn’t that Fish and Wildlife territory?” Norrs asked, his voice tinny through the speaker.
“Yes.” Huck kept his gaze on the rainy road ahead. “If the guy hasn’t headed into Canada, we’ll get him.”
“Keep me updated.” Norrs’s voice was sharp before the line cut out.
Huck’s hands gripped the steering wheel as he pulled out of the parking lot. His gaze never strayed from the road, but his shoulders appeared wound tight.
“Drive fast,” Walter growled.
“I intend to.” Huck’s eyes flicked to the mirror before settling back on the road.
The truck’s tires splashed through shallow puddles as they sped toward the mountain, the rain thickening as the terrain grew steeper.
Laurel’s phone buzzed again with another message from Nester that included updated coordinates with real-time tracking. She read through the data, her fingers gripping the phone a little too tightly.
If the suspect was heading into Canada, their window was closing. They drove up the mountain, high enough that drifts of snow still showed through the trees. Laurel stiffened and pointed. “Is that—”
“Black truck,” Huck confirmed, slowing his vehicle. “It looks like it slammed into that pine.” He angled the truck so his door faced the crumpled wreck. “Go out your side. Guns out. Stay sharp.”
Chapter 21
Huck opened his door and dropped behind it, pulling his Glock from its thigh holster, his eyes locked on the mangled black truck. Its front end had folded inward, the grill twisted and cracked. Steam hissed from somewhere beneath the wreckage, mingling with the spring chill.
Laurel moved around the back of Huck’s rig, her weapon already drawn, her expression set. “That’s the truck that rammed into us the other day.”
Bullet holes dotted the hood, clean and vicious, a reminder of Laurel’s encounter. Holes had been punched through the metal like angry exclamation points.
Huck levered back and opened his rear door, reaching in to let Aeneas loose from his crate. The dog jumped out, heeling instantly.
Walter came around the front of the truck, his shoulders hunched.
Huck approached the black truck slowly, Aeneas trotting at his side with a low growl rumbling in his throat. The dog’s fur bristled, his ears pinned back.
The driver’s door hung half-open, the metal warped where it had slammed against the tree. Huck moved to it, his gun held firmly. He leaned in, breath steady despite the chill prickling his skin.
Blood.
Smears of it across the seat, bright and wet. Not just a trickle. Someone had lost a lot of blood. It soaked into the cracked leather and streaked across the steering wheel like the driver had tried to haul himself out but couldn’t manage it cleanly.