He kept his voice low. “So do you want to tell me what you were doing out there at this time of night?”
“What were you doing out there?” Suspicion clouded her words.
He had to assume his cover wasn’t blown. “I like going out there at night. It’s quiet.”
“If you must know, I went up there to pick up a kid before he got himself into trouble. Trevor Bond is in the church youth group I help out with.”
So she ran a church youth group. A perfect way to build trust with kids and then get them hooked. “I know Trevor. He comes into the shop.” Trevor was one of the quiet ones. It broke his heart to think of any of those kids using. “He seems like he has his act together.”
“He’s only six months sober. He’s struggling not to go back into that life. To stay away from the people who got him involved in the first place.”
He caught the note of passion in her voice.
“Anyway, I’m worried about him,” she said. “I still don’t know where he went or what happened to him.” She lowered her voice half an octave. “Or why he ran away. Maybe he’s already in too deep.”
Trevor sounded a lot like Joseph’s little brother, Ezra. For Joseph, being a DEA agent was personal. Always a quiet kid, Ezra had died of a drug overdose when he was just seventeen. Joseph had been a junior in college when he got the call about Ezra. Such a waste of a beautiful life. His heart still ached over the loss.
Though he was not ready to let go of all his suspicions, he thought he detected genuine concern in her voice when she talked about Trevor. “What is your name, anyway?”
“Sierra,” she said. A moment of silence passed before she spoke again. “Where are you taking me?”
He glanced over at her. “I’m taking you home.”
She met his gaze. Her black hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and her blue eyes were the color of robin’s eggs. There was something almost cute about the way she pulled the sleeves of her hoodie down over her fingers. She really didn’t act like a drug dealer. All the same, she could be a girlfriend of one of those men. The shooters certainly seemed to want to take her out. Men like that didn’t put up with betrayal on any level.
It would be foolish to let go of his suspicions just yet. In any case, he was still irked about her messing up his surveillance.
“Why don’t you take me to the police station? I need to report this. And unless Trevor headed back home, he’s still missing.”
He wasn’t sure what to say to that. Because they suspected one of the local cops was tipping the dealers off, DEA didn’t want the city police getting wind of their activity.
“Or you can just take me to my car,” she said after he didn’t answer. “I can deal with this myself.”
“Obviously it’s not safe to go back there. You can go back tomorrow and get your car,” Joseph said. Her thinking was a little messed up, which was a normal response to the trauma of being shot at. Really, she was handling things quite well overall.
Joseph slowed down, so he could hear above his own motor.
She turned slightly in her seat. “What is it?”
“I thought I heard another boat.”
The fog hadn’t lifted at all. He didn’t see light anywhere.
Sierra whirled to one side and then the other. Her voice faltered. “I hear it, too.”
Joseph killed the motor. He doubted anyone was out for fun on a night like this. The other boat seemed to be circling around them, the motor growing louder and then fading. The motorboat swayed in the water as waves suctioned around it.
“They’re looking for us,” Sierra whispered. Her words were iced over with terror.
Joseph crouched. “Stay low.” Did they wait here and hope the searcher gave up, or did they risk making noise while trying to escape?
He wondered, too, why they were even coming after Sierra and him. He and Sierra been scared off, so why hadn’t the two men just gone back to their planned transaction? Why draw attention to themselves by hunting them down?
A light broke through the fog with the intensity of a knife slicing meat. Joseph could see the outline of a larger boat—and the man behind the helm lifting a gun. It was the man in the baseball hat. The one who had taken aim at them on the shore.
Joseph started the engine and pulled forward. The shot echoed around the boat and had probably lodged in the hull somewhere. His boat gained speed.
The other boat was eaten up by the fog, but not before another gunshot echoed around them. Joseph turned the throttle, hoping to put distance between himself and the other boat.
The roar of the other boat’s motor remained steady in intensity.
His boat slowed and vibrated.
“What’s wrong?”
He gritted his teeth. “We’re in shallow water filled with reeds. We’re not going to be able to get anywhere.” The disorientation from the fog had caused him to get too close to the shore. He revved the throttle, hoping to make some progress.
The other boat rammed into them. Their boat shook from the impact. The man leaped off his boat and reached for Sierra. She screamed and struggled to get away. Joseph lunged toward the man who had his hands around Sierra’s neck.
Sierra twisted her body in an effort to escape his grasp. Joseph heard a loud splash as Sierra and the man both fell into the water. He could see only flashes of movement in the fog.
He dove into the blackness, praying he wasn’t too late to save Sierra from the clutches of the man who sought to kill her.
Sierra’s lungs threatened to fill with water as darkness and cold enveloped her. Pressure let up on her neck, but the man continued to grab at her clothes, seeking to hold her down and keep her under.
She struggled to get away, bobbing to the surface, gasping for air. She caught sight of a baseball hat floating on the water’s surface. The man grabbed her once more. She got a good look at him before he dragged her underwater again. She went limp, hoping that playing possum would make the man give up. He held on.
She couldn’t hold her breath much longer. Her world seemed to be getting blacker and colder.
She kicked her legs in a final attempt to break free.
Another set of hands grabbed her from above and yanked her to the surface.
She gulped in air as the waves rushed around her.
Joseph’s face was very close to hers. “This way.”
She saw him swimming for only a few seconds before the fog engulfed him. She could hear Joseph’s hands and feet slicing through the water. She followed the sound. The fog caused her to lose her sense of direction. They must be swimming toward the shore. The attacker blocked their way back to the boat. It was useless at this point, anyway.
Noise of her attacker swimming through the water behind her made her move faster.
Joseph called back to her, his voice like a lighthouse beacon. “This way!”
She lifted her hand above her head and kicked her feet, trusting that Joseph was leading her to safety. It was blind trust on her part. Why would a drug dealer be saving her? But she had no choice. She wasn’t sure why, but he’d pulled her from danger twice. She had a chance of getting out of this alive if she followed Joseph.
Death was a certainty if she didn’t. The other man was still moving through the water toward