Amy’s identity hadn’t been compromised then. She’d been safely able to return to her life as Amy Naylor, adjunct professor in south Georgia.
Today was a different story.
As Sam broke through the line of trees at the end of the driveway that opened into the community college’s parking lot, he scanned the area, searching for Amy’s red SUV or Edgecombe’s dark green sedan. He rolled along the lot, scanning the area. This side of the parking lot was largely empty, as most of the students were parked closer to the building.
There. In the next to the last row. The sedan and the SUV sat side by side. “Got a visual on the vehicles.”
“Any sign of Edgecombe or Naylor?”
Sam pressed his lips together and scanned the green sedan. It was too far away for him to get a good look inside, but the red tint of the sun reflecting off the windshield told the story.
The truth came like a blow to the solar plexus. He swallowed hard twice before he could speak. “I don’t think he’s in a position to offer any help.”
Hayes muttered something under his breath, likely words Sam didn’t want to hear anyway. “You’re sure?”
“Not without getting out to check. Be prepared to call in an ambulance.” He itched to park the car and race to his colleague, but he was only one man and a woman’s life was in danger. He’d never wanted so badly to be in two places at once. “Where’s my backup?”
“Two deputies on the way.”
Two people appeared behind Amy’s SUV, walking toward a dark gray crossover parked behind hers.
No, that was wrong. The man walked. He was dragging the female along beside him.
Amy Naylor.
Sam stiffened his ankle to keep from pressing the accelerator to the floor. He’d only alert the man and anyone else who might be watching to his presence. Sam had no idea how many associates the man might have, no idea what he was up against. “I’ve got eyes on her, and it’s not good.” He relayed the scene to Hayes as he rolled closer. They needed a plan fast, before the stranger shoved Amy into a car and took this horrible show on the road.
Sam didn’t dare engage yet. While no one was close to the pair, there were too many students milling in the parking lot and pulling out of the main entrance. They were all in striking distance if the situation disintegrated into a shootout.
Sam was out of options. “I could use some help here.”
“Backup is still several minutes out. Can you stall them?”
“I can try.” He’d love to call in the police or give the order to clear the parking lot, but without knowing who the man was or what his plans for Amy were, any broad moves were risky. Whatever Sam did would have to be subtle and calculated.
The man who was holding Amy captive was tall, broad and blond. He was bigger than Sam, though likely not as well trained. He opened the front door of his car and jerked Amy closer.
The front seat. Okay, good. He was likely alone if he was willing to put her in the front seat where she could grab the wheel and wreck the car.
Slipping his pistol onto his lap and holding it at the ready, Sam rolled his window down and pulled to a stop behind the gray car before Amy climbed into the vehicle.
Her eyes widened when she saw Sam. She opened her mouth, then flicked her gaze to the man behind her and closed it again.
Good. If she blew his cover, they’d all be dead.
The stranger slid his hand from her wrist to her back and tried to shove her into the car as he cut his eyes at Sam. “I think you need to keep moving, buddy.” His voice was low and heavy with a midwestern drawl. He wasn’t holding a weapon, but the way his shirt hung at his side said he had one close to the ready.
Good news? It would take him longer to draw than it would take Sam. Bad news? Amy stood between them—a human shield.
There was an easy fix for that dilemma. He caught Amy’s eye, then deliberately looked at the car door, which stood open in front of her. Come on, Amy. Hear what I’m saying to you. “I just need directions, man. No worries. You know where the student center is? I’ve got a meeting with my—”
“I don’t know anything.” He nudged Amy until she climbed into the car, then he shut the door behind her.
Perfect. Now if backup would get here so they could flank this guy and end this thing without anyone firing a weapon. “I could use a hand here. If you could point me in the right direction, you’d be doing me a solid.”
Casting aside all pretense of civility, the man glanced at Amy and strode toward Sam’s car, anger flushing his cheeks and narrowing his eyes. “I told you to move. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll find your gas pedal and use it now.”
Before Sam could respond, a black sedan slipped around his car and into the space next to the one where Amy sat, a hostage to her captor. Another sedan slid behind Sam and into the spot on the other side.
Sam almost sagged in relief. Deputy Marshal Vince Wainwright slipped out of his car, drawing the man’s attention as another deputy Sam didn’t recognize stepped up from the other side.
Amy’s attacker reached for the pistol at his side, but Sam lifted his own weapon and aimed it at center mass. “United States Deputy Marshals. And I wouldn’t even think about touching that gun if I were standing in your shoes.”
The man’s head whipped toward Sam and he hesitated, then flicked his gaze back and forth between the three US marshals who had hemmed him in. In an instant, his posture melted from defiant anger to sullen resignation.
Sam’s stomach unclenched, but he kept his expression hard. “You’re done. Lace your fingers behind your head.”
The man obeyed, and the deputy Sam didn’t know took him into custody.
Sam eased out of his car and turned to Wainwright. “Deputy Edgecombe’s car is right in front of you. I have a bad feeling about what you’re going to find.” Sam would have checked himself, but Amy was his responsibility.
Deputy Wainwright nodded grimly and disappeared around the SUV as the other deputy hauled their suspect off.
Sam headed straight for Amy. As soon as he pulled the door open, she dropped her head to the back of the seat. “You got him?”
“We did.” He had to get her out of here quickly, before any more of Grant Meyer’s goons showed up, but she was pale and shaking. She likely needed a minute to gather herself before he tried to move her. It was probable her legs wouldn’t hold her until she’d caught her breath. Sam knelt beside her, slightly below her eye level. He rested a hand on her shoulder. “Take a minute. Get your bearings, and then we need to move you.”
“This isn’t over, is it?”
“No.”
“It’s bad, isn’t it?”
Movement at the front of the car caught Sam’s attention. Wainwright, his phone already pulled to his ear, caught Sam’s eye, his face tight. He shook his head.
No words needed to be spoken. Edgecombe was gone.
Shoving his emotions to the side, Sam turned his attention to Amy, who was still watching him. “There’s a vest in the front seat of my car. When you get in, I want you to put it on.” His own was hot under his shirt, but in a retrieval like this, he wasn’t taking any chances.
“Deputy Maldonado?” Her face paled, almost