LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

of keeping people safe—performing rescue operations or assisting vessels in distress—not arresting three men who were up to some seriously bad business. If she had to guess, it involved much more than transporting illegal arms. Drug dealers liked big guns, too.

      Jayce positioned the second man so that he could cuff him, too. The man bolted to his feet and twisted around to head-butt Jayce. Blood spurted from Jayce’s nose.

      They wrestled for the weapon and a shot was fired but missed both men. Still, the guy disarmed the deputy.

      “Jayce!”

      Bree’s heart slammed against her rib cage. She fired her weapon at the perp. He grabbed his midsection and dropped the gun, so Jayce picked it up. Her pulse roared in her ears—or was that the ringing sound triggered after firing the weapon?

      The uncuffed man who had been sitting scrambled up behind Jayce and caught him off guard.

      “Behind you!” She couldn’t get a shot in without hurting Jayce.

      Before Jayce could react, the man took his weapon away from him and shot him point-blank. He fell back into the water.

       Jayce!

      Though stunned with profound grief, Bree fought off the shock that would make her immobile.

      She fired her weapon at the shooter but missed. In return, he fired off multiple rounds at her as he tried to get to the front of the boat and the machine guns. She dived for cover behind the seat, which was not much cover at all. She couldn’t let him get to those guns or it would all be over.

      He lunged for the machine guns and she stood to fire.

      A shot landed against her chest. Pain exploded, despite the Kevlar she wore under her uniform. She’d bemoaned wearing the Kevlar on hot days, never expecting she’d need it or the life jacket she’d forsaken. She fell back into the river...

      And sank beneath the surface. Held the shallow breath she’d caught while more bullets sprayed the water.

      Machine gun bullets.

       Snap out of it or you’re going to drown like your brother! His son, little Stevie, needs you!

      The current carried her away from the boat and the spray of bullets.

      Jayce had gone into the river, too. Was there any possibility he was still alive? He was also wearing Kevlar. She could hope. After all, like him, she’d been shot and was still alive. Somehow they both had to survive this.

      Bree bobbed to the surface and sucked in a breath.

      Why weren’t the men leaving? Why weren’t they escaping in the sheriff department’s boat to flee upriver?

      A slow-dawning realization squeezed her lungs.

      They were searching for her and Jayce, that’s why. They had to make sure the two deputies—the two witnesses—were dead and couldn’t describe the men who had attacked them.

      The uninjured criminal freed the one man who had been cuffed and got their motor running, after all. Maybe they didn’t want to take time to transfer their stashed weapons. Either that or they didn’t want to be seen in a sheriff’s department boat and draw unwanted attention. The boat slowly headed downriver, the men searching the water for the deputies. Underwater, she fought the current and headed for a muddy eddy. Bree’s feet found purchase on the pebbled bottom. Catching her breath, she slid forward into the mud. Rolled in it to camouflage herself. She simply couldn’t swim away fast enough, even with the river current.

      Fear strangled her, making it hard to breathe. Tears choked her throat. She kept her eyes closed as the boat approached. She heard the shouts.

      “Find the woman deputy!”

      “She’s dead. She can’t hurt us.”

      “She isn’t dead. She was wearing a vest. I saw her come up for air. The man is dead. Forget him.”

      Tears mingled with the mud on her face.

       Oh, Jayce...

      She should have prevented his death. If she’d handled this better, they would be taking in three men and possibly make it home in time for a birthday party. A milestone celebration.

      No one would know what happened to them if she didn’t survive. Though it took colossal strength, she shook off her grief to be revisited when she was safely away from the murderers.

      The sheriff’s department knew roughly where they were. But Bree couldn’t stay here and wait for the cavalry. She had to move deeper into the wilderness country. Another boat approached, and it wasn’t someone from the sheriff’s department. She feared for anyone approaching the men—their lives were at stake.

      Then when she heard the conversation between them, she understood that those in the approaching boat were more of the same men. Partners in crime.

      She held her breath and sank deeper into the mud.

       Oh, God, help me!

      From her hiding spot, she saw the men transferring to the bigger boat and carrying over the man she’d shot but hadn’t killed. She watched to see what they would do next. Oh, God, please just let them leave.

      Two men hopped onto her boat, then back to the larger boat. They laughed and shouted. An explosion resounded. They’d blown a hole in the hull. Bree watched in horror as the boat she and Jayce had brought upriver sank. The evidence they’d even been here was now hidden away.

      Then across the river, she spotted Jayce climbing up onto the riverbank. Her heart surged with hope. You’re alive.

      He rolled over onto his back. Pressed his hand against his chest and to the side. It came away with—was that blood? He was injured, but the Kevlar had still likely saved his life, just like it had saved hers. Only she wasn’t bleeding from a bullet. They’d spot him if he didn’t move, and he wouldn’t live long if they saw him. They thought he was dead. She had to draw their attention away so they wouldn’t find him.

      Bree drew in a couple of breaths. You can do this.

      She rolled over and slowly crawled out of the mud. The boat was a mere twenty-five yards from her. Then she made a show of standing up, hoping they would spot her before she ran into the woods.

      A shout resounded on the river.

      It worked. She ran for cover as bullets pelted the trees. Her only chance was to put as much distance as she could between them, but more importantly, she would give Jayce a chance to survive. Since he was injured, his odds of survival were already slim, so Bree would draw the men away from him.

      She ran until she was out of breath, then she dropped to her knees and crawled over rambling mossy roots, well-hidden for the moment within a copse of Sitka spruce and western hemlock. She leaned against a thick trunk and wiped the mud from her face with her arm.

      Bree knew the rivers like she knew the lines on the palms of her hands. But the woods? The wilderness area? Not so much. Would her fellow deputies be able to find her? Would they even know the danger they faced in searching if Jayce wasn’t able to get to safety and warn them? Other deputies could get shot. Or worse. Die.

      Either way, if he didn’t stop the bleeding, Jayce might die before he could get to safety or someone found him.

      She tried her radio. The shot to her chest had somehow damaged it. Or was that the mud or water? Whatever the case, it wasn’t working. Her cell was on the sinking boat along with her Glock. It was more likely one of the men took it as their own. She had no weapon, no means of communication, a bleeding partner and no way out without putting more people in danger. As a deputy, she was a complete and utter failure.

      Worst of all, this situation was completely her fault. Jayce was injured and they were both in mortal danger because of her decision to press on. Jayce had wanted to turn back as the day waned. Why hadn’t she listened?

      Shouts

Скачать книгу