“Where is he now?”
Julia looked at her screen, but hesitated. “The fact that he’s still moving is a good sign.”
“What do you mean? What aren’t you saying?”
“It means that Shepherd hasn’t killed him and dumped his body somewhere.”
Nausea rushed through her. “That’s not all that comforting. He could have killed him already and is looking for the right place to dump him.” Bree couldn’t believe she said the words out loud.
“I was trying to remain positive.”
A lump formed in Bree’s throat. “Right. Good idea.”
Weaving in and out of traffic, Bree pressed the accelerator, nearly flooring it. “What do you know about this Shepherd guy?”
“Nothing. He could be impersonating an agent.” Julia looked at her tablet again. “Take another right. Just up here.” She pointed to a road on the right.
“Uh-oh.”
Bree didn’t like the sound of that. “What is it?”
“It’s the dot. It’s slowing down.”
Her pulse jumped. “Maybe that means we can catch up to him.”
“I hope you’re right.”
What Julia wasn’t saying was that they could be too late.
Bree’s heart hammered. “Just so you know, Julia, I considered calling the sheriff, too, like you. But I didn’t call him because... I thought we would decide that together. I thought we were working together as a team.”
Julia blew out an exasperated breath. “Don’t you see? Quinn would never have agreed to that. And I’m sorry you don’t feel you can trust me completely, but you must trust me to a point or you wouldn’t be with me now.”
Bree slowed the vehicle enough to turn onto the bumpy dirt road Julia indicated. Unfortunately, she knew where it led. To the spot where the river met the bay.
A shudder crawled over her. Quinn...oh Lord, please save him! “I don’t like this.”
Julia chambered a round in her Glock 22. The same model that Bree carried. “We’d better be prepared,” Julia said. “I have a feeling this guy plays for keeps. We can’t show him any sign of weakness if we’re going to take Quinn alive.”
Please, let us not be too late.
Julia pressed her hand to Bree’s arm as she stared at the tablet. “We should get out now. We need to walk. Approach slowly.”
“I don’t know. Maybe I need to speed through here and mow the guy down before he kills Quinn.” Could she trust Julia? Was she making a mistake?
Despite her words, she followed Julia’s instructions. She steered the vehicle off the road. It rocked over the potholes until she stopped next to a particularly thick group of trees, whose foliage scraped against the car. She glanced at Julia. “For good measure. Just to hide our presence.”
Julia nodded. “We don’t need any more men hunting you or Quinn.”
“Or you, now that you’ve chosen to accept this mission.”
The woman gave a half smile at Bree’s reference to Mission: Impossible.
Before Bree climbed from the vehicle, she reached to radio-dispatch her status, then remembered they couldn’t risk the other deputies joining them and Quinn getting jailed again. She grabbed her own weapon. She got out and quietly shut the door. She followed Julia through the woods, this scenario bringing memories rushing back. Images of her time on the run with Quinn through the green temperate rain forest at night, and then the day when he got her as far as the edge of town.
She shook off the memories.
Would this ever end? Would her life ever go back to normal or be the same again?
Julia suddenly backed against a tree.
Bree did the same. She was at the woman’s mercy at the moment—only Julia had the tablet allowing her to follow the tracking device inside Quinn. Bree needed to prepare herself for the possibility that Julia was lying and this was a trap. She didn’t want to believe that, but at this moment, she was wary of just about everyone.
Still, Quinn had trusted her enough to bring her into this, so Bree would do her best to have confidence in Julia while remaining cautious.
The sounds of nature surrounded her. Crickets and frogs. Birds. What was Julia waiting on? She just kept staring at the tablet.
“Julia,” Bree whispered.
The woman pressed a finger to her lips and looked at her like she was an idiot.
Bree peered around the tree. Did Julia see someone? Is that why she asked her to keep quiet? Bree didn’t see anyone. She was done waiting. She made her way quietly forward in the same direction they’d been tracking.
Julia caught up with her and grabbed her arm. “What are you doing?”
“I’m searching for Quinn.”
The woman frowned and shook her head. “I lost the signal.”
“What do you mean you lost it?”
She shoved the tablet at Bree. “Look. It’s gone. Just...nothing.”
* * *
Quinn stared at the gash in his arm where Shepherd had cut the tracker out. The man must have known about Quinn’s experience being shuffled from one warehouse to another and had figured out how Quinn had been found. Either that or he’d seen someone following them.
Maybe that was why Shepherd had taken the detour down the road to the bay. He’d parked and yanked Quinn out. Searched Quinn’s clothing, and then ensued a painful search along his arms, the most likely place the tracker would be inserted. He’d pinpointed a couple of places that were false positives, as it were, slicing into Quinn at will until he found the small chip.
He held it between his fingers, then crushed it in his palm. “These things could cause cancer, you know.”
Really. Quinn held back his retort to that insane statement.
“I should have figured something like this.” The oversize ex-marine kept shaking his head.
Blood rushed down Quinn’s arm and onto the wet sand of the small pebbled beach where the river hit the bay. Water lapped up and washed the blood away, and the evidence.
What now?
Why didn’t Shepherd just kill Quinn here and dump his body and get it over with? Quinn didn’t want to ask him that or give him any ideas. “You’re taking me to someone.” His guess would be Declan.
Had to be it. Quinn had a price on his head and apparently everyone—the good and the bad—were after him. Except he suspected this man Shepherd had been hired by Declan, who wanted Quinn dead before he could tell Michael Jones that Declan was DEA undercover, and Declan had been the one to steal the money. Declan had also conveniently leaked to the DEA that Quinn was a dirty agent and had stolen the money.
“You’re smarter than I figured.”
What was that supposed to mean? Quinn huffed, which brought on pain. He wouldn’t talk to this guy more than necessary. Needed to save his energy for the big moment.
Coming up soon.
Knowing that kept him waiting.
The guy was always sarcastic in his tone, insulting and intimidating. Maybe that’s because he didn’t have the moves to back up his attitude. He wrapped Quinn’s arm so blood wouldn’t get in his vehicle. If he was trying to avoid DNA evidence, he’d have to try harder—especially with Quinn awake and determined to leave as much behind as he could, including some blood. Just in case the big moment didn’t materialize like he imagined and he ended up dead somewhere. His DNA in this vehicle, should investigators look that closely, would give them answers.
“Now. Get in.” Shepherd looked at him with those crazy eyes.
Quinn had no intention of getting back in—not willingly, anyway. The big moment was now.
“No.” He head-butted Shepherd and in one smooth motion moved behind him and wrapped his cuffed wrists around his throat. “Now. Drop your gun.”
Shepherd said nothing. His face turned red. Veins popped out at his temples. He squirmed and fought.
He mumbled something that sounded like, “I’m going to kill you.”
“Oh yeah?” Quinn pulled even tighter. “I don’t think so. Now. Drop the gun so I don’t have to kill you.”
Shepherd opened his hand and released the gun. It clattered on the pebbles. Quinn kept the pressure steady. He had no intention of releasing Shepherd until he was unconscious. Alive, but down for the count. Finally, Shepherd went limp. Quinn eased him to the ground and checked his pulse. Look at that—he had a heart, after all.
He pocketed the gun, grateful he hadn’t been made to change into the usual jail jumpsuit. Then he searched Shepherd. Found another gun and two knives.
Bingo. Keys to the cuffs.
Quinn freed himself. He hurried to search the vehicle. Aha. Duct tape. Shepherd might have planned to use this on Quinn, but those tables had been turned. He pulled a long strip out, tore it with his teeth, then wrapped Shepherd’s wrists.
“Much more elegant than handcuffs, don’t you think?”
Shepherd remained unconscious. Good. Quinn dragged him over to a tree and leaned him up against it. He taped his ankles together, too. He’d let Bree and Julia know where to find him. They could communicate with Sheriff Garrison that they had found a problem that needed solving.
Time for Quinn to go his own way and end this himself. He’d face off with Declan and get him to confess. That was the only option left to him. He couldn’t let himself be caged again only to be removed for disposal.
The “problem solver” stirred. “You’re a dead man.”
“Not by your hands. I’m thinking you’re in bigger trouble than I am.” Declan would dispose of Shepherd to eliminate the risk of Shepherd flipping on him in a plea deal.
“They’ll kill you when they find you,” the man muttered.
“They have to find me first.”
“You shouldn’t have dragged the other agent into this. Both women are going to die now. The plans are already in motion.”
Quinn sucked in a breath. “When and where?”
The man spit at him.
Tugging the cell from Shepherd’s pocket, he scrolled through the numbers. “I’m going to call Declan and tell him what I’ve done to you and where to come and get you if you don’t tell me right now what you know so that I can protect them. And if you’re not telling me the truth, I’ll tell Michael Jones, and his hit man, too.”
Genuine fear shone in Shepherd’s eyes. “Okay, okay. I’ll tell you, but you won’t make it in time.”
SEVENTEEN
Bree steered into her driveway and waved at her neighbor, who got into her car. Bree had made sure it was returned earlier in the day. Julia pulled to the curb in her own vehicle. Bree sat in her car for a minute and hung her head. Rubbed her neck. What did she do now?
They’d come across the man who’d taken Quinn from the cell, but he wasn’t talking. His hands and feet were bound and he wasn’t going anywhere. She assumed Quinn had escaped.
Before they’d found Shepherd, they’d heard a vehicle exiting down the road from the bay. She surmised that must have been Quinn escaping in Shepherd’s vehicle.
Why didn’t he call her? Contact her?
Maybe he wanted to do this on his own—he probably thought she’d call the sheriff and she was the reason he’d been sent to jail.
One thing for certain—she now knew that he’d been right all along. He was in danger sitting in a jail cell.
Julia knocked on the car door window, startling Bree.
Reluctantly, she climbed out. She wished she could escape Julia just for a few minutes. She needed to decompress. But there was no time and they needed to work together on Quinn’s behalf. At least she had Julia working with her and she finally had the sheriff behind her. Since his department had let him be taken by a fake agent, the sheriff was furious, and more apt to believe Quinn’s story. To believe Bree. He had his hands full with interrogating Shepherd at the moment.
Though she walked slowly, she realized she wasn’t limping anymore. A small victory. Bree paused to scan the yard and the street.
“If you insist on coming to your house, can we just go inside already?” Julia sounded spooked.
Bree unlocked her door and welcomed the familiar space. But her home, usually filled with laughter and love, was empty. It felt cold and dead without Stevie and Dad.
“What are we doing, Julia? Quinn probably won’t reach out to either of us. And if he doesn’t, I have no idea what to do next to help him. But you do. You must know who is behind this. The guy he mentioned—Declan.”
“Yes. I know him. Unfortunately, I don’t have any evidence that he’s done anything wrong, whereas Quinn still has a warrant out for his arrest. All I can do is go back to my division headquarters in New Orleans and try to convince my superior about what is going on. He was also Quinn’s superior, so he might be willing to listen.”
“But your life is in danger now, too, Julia, isn’t it?”
She nodded. “It’s a dangerous career to begin with, not unlike your own.”
Bree shook her head. “Here in this county, we don’t come across this kind of criminal activity that often. Or at all, I should say. Until a few days ago, I had never had a need to pull my weapon on anyone, much less shoot them.” She shuddered. “I thought my job would consist of warning people to uphold the law, especially on waterways, since I’ve been working the marine division. But never anything like this. You, however—it’s part of your job to investigate and arrest the worst sorts of criminals, at least that’s what Quinn told me. Cartels and drug dealers.”
“Sit down and rest. I’ll get you some water or something from the kitchen,” Julia said.
“No. This is my house. You sit down. I’ll get us something to drink. Maybe I’ll even cook some dinner to clear my mind.” Her heart ached. This was all wrong.
She glanced at Julia, who took a seat on the sofa. Bree didn’t know how Julia could live with herself after calling the sheriff to report Quinn’s whereabouts, especially after what happened.
“So what do you think he’ll do next?” she spoke loudly so Julia could hear her out in the living area.
Julia approached and leaned on the counter. “I don’t know. He might go back into hiding. Or he might face Declan or even Michael Jones. That’s what I believe he’ll do because otherwise, he always has to worry about your safety. The Quinn I know will face this head-on this time.”
Bree set a couple of soft drinks and a bag of chips and some salsa on the counter. “I hope you like tacos. I’m thawing the meat in the microwave right now.”
A racket by the door drew their attention. Bree grabbed her gun. She wasn’t even safe in her own home.
Quinn stumbled inside. Bree stared at him, taking in the sight of him, unable to comprehend that he was here.
“Quinn! You’re all right.”
“We have to get out!” His tone was urgent. It scared her.
“Wait. What?”
“Now!”
She reached for her bag on the coffee table. Tried to set the plates down. He grabbed Bree, who then dropped the food, and dragged her out the door, running. Julia was close behind.
“Faster! We have to run!”
He pushed Bree until she thought she would fall on her face.
An explosion resounded, the shock wave pushing them to the ground.
* * *
Quinn covered Bree and Julia both, protecting them with his larger bulk. Protecting them because that’s what he did. He gasped for breath. Endured the pain of the blast. Pain upon more pain until he almost felt numb from it all.
He almost hadn’t made it in time—Shepherd’s vehicle got a flat tire, of all things! And Shepherd’s cell was dead. He had no way to communicate with Bree. He’d cut across neighborhood yards, sprinting as fast as he could, hoping and praying she wouldn’t come home before he got
to her to warn her.
At least they had made it across the street. He’d taken a dive behind two parked cars when the blast went off.
God, please let no one else be hurt.
“Is it over?” Bree asked.
Julia scrambled to her feet. Quinn remained on the ground, but he rolled so Bree wouldn’t be pinned. “Are you okay?” he asked.
Gratitude filled her gaze. “I am now.”
Quinn watched flames engulf what was left of the house that Bree had shared with Stevie and her father.
He tried to remain unmoved by Bree’s tears. Her shoulders shaking. She’d been through more than anyone should ever have to go through. This was just another example of his life destroying hers.
Julia crouched next to them. “How did you know, Quinn?”
“Shepherd told me.”
“And you believed him?”
Quinn tugged a cell from his pocket. “I threatened to call Declan and tell them how he’d messed up—and where to find him.”
Finally, he pushed to his feet. When this was over he would sleep for a month—but hopefully that wouldn’t be in a jail cell. Since he didn’t know for sure where he’d end up, that meant he couldn’t sleep until he’d done everything he could to ensure justice was served and he was absolved while he still had the freedom to act.
Bree grabbed his arm and turned him to face her. “I was so worried about you.”
He wanted to pull her into his arms. He’d almost forgotten her betrayal, and he wouldn’t so easily let himself trust her. Still, he’d make sure she was safe. He’d protect her by resolving this on his own.
He started to walk away. She grabbed him again. He winced and she let go.
“Quinn, you have to know that I didn’t call the sheriff.”
“Right.” He knew she was saying this to make him feel better. “You thought you were protecting me. I get it.”
“She didn’t call him,” Julia said. “I did.”
“You?” His brain had already been shaken, but that news stunned him. He took a step back.
“We both wanted to protect you,” Julia said. “We both thought you’d be safer in custody. The difference is that Bree would have asked your permission, and I knew you would never give it. So I made the call without consulting you, Quinn.”
Running Target Page 15