Ethan had been given special permission to keep Titus with him instead of at the kennel until the repairs could be done and security assured.
That was fine by Ethan, as he was cross-training Titus as a cadaver detection dog in addition to his patrol duties. The more time they spent together the better. Plus, military dogs were more than just animals, they were partners. And he had to be sure his partner was protected. Titus had his back and Ethan returned the favor.
“I’ve gotta talk this nutty lady out of standing in for Jillian before she gets herself killed,” he muttered.
Titus flapped his ears and settled back into the seat.
Preparing his most convincing argument for Kendra, he waited for her to exit the office. He was surprised when she stepped out lugging some sort of small animal carrier. He started to exit the vehicle to talk to her, but she loaded the carrier and slid behind the wheel of her car so quickly he didn’t have the chance. As she drove by, he caught her profile, her long red hair now captured in a tight twist at the nape of a graceful neck, a spray of freckles across the nose. His stomach dropped. So like Jillian. Anger choked him, and hurt speared through him as sharp as it had been the day he’d finally understood how his wife had betrayed him, repeatedly, and he’d been nothing but gullible and blind to it. What a sap. Dense as his aunt Millie’s fruitcake.
“Let it go,” he commanded himself. “You’ve been divorced for three years. She’s not your problem anymore.” He decided that with his current state of mind it was best not to head back to Canyon until he got his anger under control and then sorted out how to get Kendra Bell out of the picture.
He pulled out of the parking lot and took the back road off the Marine base, bathed in shadows from the trees that broke up the buttery June sunlight. Unseasonably hot, people were saying, which made him laugh. After returning from Afghanistan, where the temps could top 115 degrees before noon, he’d never complain about the Texas heat again.
Titus seemed to feel the same, stretched out to catch the sunshine, enjoying the moments free from enemy sniper fire and the constant tension born of living in a war zone. Titus was a top-notch patrol dog, sniffing out hidden insurgents and intruders at checkpoints, and he was taking easily to his new training in cadaver detection. The animal’s incredible abilities never ceased to boggle Ethan’s mind. God knew what He was doing when he made dogs.
The miles rolled by along with his thoughts until he was surprised to catch up to Kendra as she headed into a curvy, wooded section of road. A slow and careful driver, unlike the woman she resembled. The bumper of her car disappeared around a turn and gunfire ripped through the air, followed by the sound of breaking glass. Adrenaline exploded through his body as he floored the accelerator, stopping just in time to see Kendra’s vehicle skid off the road and down the slope. He pulled the truck behind a pile of rocks and dialed both 911 and Masters’s direct line. Titus went rigid, ears erect, nose twitching, waiting for a signal from Ethan. Messages delivered, there was no more time to spare. Kendra might be badly injured.
Clipping on Titus’s lead, he unlocked the box from under his seat and slipped the handgun in his belt. Slamming the door, he sprinted toward the edge where her car had gone over, praying the sniper’s bullets had not found their target.
* * *
Was Sullivan making his move already? Kendra fought the bucking steering wheel after the last shot had taken out the front tire. Then again, she had another enemy hot on her trail. She didn’t know that Andy was a good enough shot to take out a tire, but he was skilled at many other means of inflicting pain. Whether it was Sullivan or Andy didn’t really matter at the moment. She battled for control of her vehicle, but there was no time. The car bumped and jolted, skidding sideways toward the trees. “Hold on, Baby,” she shouted to the elderly cat tucked in his back seat carrier. Her words were lost in the jolt of the chassis as it smacked against the rocky ground. Thick tree trunks flashed past the windows as the car flew down the slope, gravity overwhelming the brakes. The front fender slammed into a pile of rocks so hard it snapped her neck back and drove the breath out of her. For several seconds all she could do was cling to the steering wheel, wondering why the airbag hadn’t deployed.
“Baby?” she finally croaked. “Are you okay?”
With a painful effort, she unbuckled her seat belt, grabbed her Glock and turned to peer over the headrest into the back seat. Her heart pounded at what she might find in the cat carrier.
Please, God, don’t let Baby be dead. I know I don’t deserve to ask You for anything, not one thing, but I’m asking anyway. The silence from the rear of the car galvanized her into action.
Shoving an elbow at the door, she forced it open, tumbling to her knees on the rocky ground. Pain in her ribs made her gasp but she pulled herself up and grabbed the rear door handle.
The crunch of footsteps made her draw back.
Sullivan or Andy?
Andy’s last voice mail message echoed in her ears. When I finally catch up to you, I am going to enjoy killing you slowly.
She gritted her teeth. If he was going to kill her today, she’d make sure it would be the hardest thing he’d ever done.
The sounds drew nearer. Her mind sought options. Flag someone down? Ethan had been behind her for a while, she’d noticed, but she’d lost sight of him a few miles back. Incredibly, she heard no traffic at all on this back road out of the Baylor Marine Corps Base. She reached for her cell phone when she heard a whispered voice.
“Kendra?”
The voice didn’t belong to Andy, that was certain. This voice was a low baritone, complete with a Tennessee drawl. Ethan. She let out a slow breath.
“I’m coming over to you,” he continued, “so don’t do anything crazy like shoot me.”
She kept silent, gripping the Glock and training the gun toward the direction of the shots. Ethan rounded the corner with a dog at his side. The pointer immediately stiffened, ears erect.
“I don’t like dogs,” she snapped.
“That’s okay. He probably doesn’t like you, either. Cops and marines should be on their way.”
“What are you doing here?” She shot a look at the animal still in alert position. A patrol or scout dog, she suspected.
He quirked an eyebrow. “Maybe we can do the pleasantries later? After the cavalry arrives?”
She would have retorted, but a shot whistled through the air and they hunkered low for cover.
“Sullivan doesn’t usually do his dirty work in public,” he said over his shoulder, peering in the direction of the shooter. “Anyone else you know who might shooting at you?”
“Could be anyone,” she said, earning another exasperated look.
“You can play innocent with me, but I don’t think the marines are gonna be as warm and fuzzy.”
“If you think you’re warm and fuzzy,” she said, yanking the back door handle, “then you’re pretty clueless.”
He put out a hand to stop her. “Leave it. We have to move. Shooter is going to change locations to get a better bead now that we’re pinned down.”
She ignored him, pulling harder on the door, which opened with a reluctant groan.
He grabbed her forearm. “Didn’t you hear me?”
“Hearing and listening are two different things.”
A