Another shot pinged the metal car roof, sending off sparks.
“Come on,” he said, taking her arm and propelling her toward the shrubbery.
It was all she could do to hold on to the carrier.
“I thought MPs were supposed to stand their ground,” she huffed.
“We do, but this isn’t my ground and I happen to be saddled with an irrational civilian.”
So much for warm and fuzzy.
He pushed her ahead of him, and he and the dog took up position right behind her as another volley of shots bored into the tree just above their heads.
Ethan put as many sturdy tree trunks between them and the shooter as he could. His mind churned faster than his feet. Had Sullivan finally snapped and changed his tactics to include daylight ambushes? It was possible. Sullivan wasn’t much of a shot, he happened to know, and this gunman was all over the place. Two more bullets whistled by, the last a wild one that lost itself in the tree branches. Sirens were converging from all directions. The marines would be responding, and the local police. With that many guns and that much adrenaline pumping, he figured their safest option was to stay still, very still. He put Titus into a sit.
“Stay put,” he told the woman. “Marines are here.”
The Jillian look-alike stood with her back to a tree, her arms curled around the animal carrier. Now that he got a close look without a couple of feet between them, he could see that her mouth was fuller than Jillian’s, the hair more auburn than copper, the spray of freckles more subtle, but still...uncanny.
“Still staring?” she demanded.
He flushed. “How do you know Jillian?”
A flash of emotion crossed her face, indicating that whatever her connection was to Jillian, it was a strong one. Then the expression disappeared and she shrugged. “Friends.”
His instincts went berserk, as if he was inches from stepping into a trip wire, but he had to know. “You’re a pretty good friend to paint a target on your back.”
She flashed a smile this time as she pointed to several armed marines scurrying down the slope, geared up for battle. “I think that conversation is going to have to wait.”
She was right. The marines were in no mood for chatting. Once they ascertained that Kendra and Ethan were not the bad guys, they searched the area until the police arrived, finding no sign of the shooter.
One marine approached them. “Hey, Airman. Heard you slammed the door on Colonel Masters an hour ago.”
Ethan grinned at the marine police captain, friends from the time their deployments overlapped. “News travels fast, Hector.”
MP Marine Captain Hector Sanchez squashed his smile and regarded the woman next to him intently. “Your name, ma’am?”
“Kendra. I had a meeting on base with Lieutenant Colonel Terence Masters.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Pertaining to?”
“Ask him, if you want to know.”
“Due respect, ma’am, but we’re not in the mood for coy around here.”
Ethan wasn’t, either. He was in the mood for a little rest and recuperation before he threw himself back into the Red Rose Killer investigation. Now that he was working for Masters, the situation was changing from bad to atrocious. The good news was Kendra would have to come to her senses now and tell Masters she was quitting.
Hector greeted the arriving police officer and they launched into an intense conversation. The US Marines did not like having to relinquish any authority to the local cops, but the shooting was not technically on base property. The cop, whose name tag read Alonso Carpenter, drew Ethan and Kendra aside. He was a tall man, almost as tall as Ethan, with a narrow chin and skin tanned from the sun.
“We need to have a talk back at the station with you both, to document all the details,” he said.
“It this really necessary?” Kendra’s arms were still wrapped around the carrier as if she was holding on to a life preserver. “I’m sure Colonel Masters—”
“Masters,” Carpenter said, with a certain something in his voice, “is not the boss on this side of the fence.”
Ethan caught the grin on Hector’s face. He realized he was sporting the same smug smile on his own. Masters always got what he wanted one way or another by whatever means necessary. It was nice to know the local police did not jump when he snapped his fingers.
He wanted nothing more than to head back to his apartment at Canyon Air Force Base and forget the whole nutty plan, but perhaps Masters’s scheme would actually draw Boyd out. It was possible the shooting had been Sullivan’s work. But something still didn’t feel right. Sullivan was not the type to take shots from the bushes. His killings were up close and personal. Ethan’s stomach tensed thinking of how Sullivan had snuffed out the life of his friend Landon Martelli. Landon hadn’t even had a chance to defend himself.
If it wasn’t Sullivan, then who else might want Kendra dead and why? He shook away the thought. Not your problem, Webb. He wasn’t going to work with Kendra Bell only to see her become another victim of Sullivan’s, and he intended to force her to see reality one way or another. The best thing for her would be to get away from this part of Texas, and especially from Masters.
Kendra walked by him and slid into a waiting police car. She did not flash him a glance, just bent her head and cooed to the bony white cat she’d removed from the carrier.
He could see that her profile wasn’t exactly a match for Jillian’s; her nose was smaller, the cheeks softer and there was more delicacy about this woman than his ex-wife. Her hair looked soft, as if it would be silky under his fingertips.
He brought those thoughts sharply to heel, calling to Titus, who had been nosing along at the tufts of grass. A moment later the cat caught sight of Titus and mewed in fright.
Startled, Titus barked loud enough to make Ethan’s ears ring. The cat erupted from Kendra’s arms and streaked away into the woods.
“Baby,” Kendra screamed, leaping from the car. She fired an angry look at Ethan. “Can’t you control your brute of a dog?” she said before she ran away in search of the cat.
“What?” he said dumbly to her back.
“She said, ‘Can’t you control your brute of a dog?’” Officer Carpenter said and Ethan detected a look of enjoyment in the man’s eyes.
Ethan huffed out a breath and shot a glare at Titus. The dog blinked and looked away as if to say, “Sorry, but it was a cat, after all.” Then he noticed the officer was heading into the shrubbery.
“Aren’t you taking her to the station?” Ethan called.
Carpenter chuckled. “Son, I’ve been married twice and I’d like to think I’ve learned a thing or two. I think I can safely say that Ms. Bell isn’t going anywhere without that cat.”
“Does that mean I can go and you’ll call me when you’re ready to talk to me?”
Carpenter raised an eyebrow. “No, that means you and Wonder Dog are going to comb every inch of this property until you locate the cat, Airman.” He turned his back and left Ethan and Titus standing there.
Ethan turned to his dog. “This is your fault, you know.”
Titus licked Ethan’s hand.
“Don’t try to act all cute now. Get into those bushes and find the cat you just bullied.”
Titus