“I don’t see anything.” Antonio wiped snow from his face.

“There has to be a detonator of some kind. I know this fire wasn’t started by a heater.” Garcia trudged through the snow, bending down and looking under various mounds of debris. He’d taken Antonio to The Wild Orchid first, hoping they’d find any indication of tampering. They’d found nothing after two hours of sifting through the rubble. Standing at Mr. Hatcher’s farm, he had a feeling they were being watched.

“Well, it would have had to be placed just outside the house for it to create this kind of damage.”

“What about inside?”

Antonio shrugged. “That would mean someone would have had to get inside.”

“What if they were allowed inside?”

“You’re thinking Mr. Hatcher set this up?”

Garcia exhaled and walked closer. “Only thing that makes sense at this point. We know someone purchased a huge insurance policy covering both locations and given the information wasn’t easy for Landen to find…”

“Mr. Hatcher didn’t want anyone knowing. Makes sense. Let’s dig through the rubble.”

He hung back as Antonio walked over debris and further into the remains of the house. The gray afternoon held ominous looking clouds, as if a blizzard was rolling in. His legs were almost numb but more from apprehension than anything. Laney continued to hold something back from him. He would bet on it.

As both men began searching, flipping over charred pieces of wood and appliances, the snow began to fall rapidly.

“This shit is going to be completely covered within an hour at this rate,” Antonio huffed.

“Keep looking. I just know we’re going to find something.” Garcia yanked away the remnants of the heater and realized the portion he’d taken a picture of had disappeared. “Look at this.”

He moved closer, kneeling into the snow. “Interesting.”

“Look at the pictures. The bastards took evidence.”

Antonio sighed. “If they were scared away, there could be more. Keep looking.”

Garcia heard his phone ring and grunted as he grabbed it from his pocket. The number didn’t look familiar. “Garcia Puevos.”

“Mr. Puevos, this is Richard Walker.”

“I’m sorry, and you are?”

“A reporter with the Miami Herald. You emailed me a couple days ago.”

“Oh, yes. I was checking on a story you’d written I guess four years or so ago.” Garcia walked away from the area.

“Well, the story sparked a lot of interest years ago. I must admit, I’m surprised I’m hearing about it now. Although there are some additional rumors about Mr. Scavuli that I plan on following up.”

The name stuck in his gut, forcing his heart to beat. “Tony Scavuli?”

“Yes, I assumed that’s why you were calling. He was supposed to have gone to prison, but the charges were dropped. Of course, I have my suspicions why. No one around to give any details from recent events or those in the past.” Richard sighed.

Hair stood on the back of Garcia’s neck. Witnesses were being killed. Dear God, she had a reason to be afraid. “Was there a young girl a few years ago who testified against him? The one from your report that was mentioned in passing.”

“Yes. I can’t remember her name, but she was killed in a horrific fire. Damn shame.”

“Is there anything else you can tell me?”

Richard hesitated. “I’m not certain what you’re looking for but Mr. Scavuli no longer lives in Miami. He’s moved out west. Montana from what I hear.”

Garcia almost dropped the phone. “Thank you for your information.” When he ended the call, he blinked several times, trying to focus as he panted. His hand shaking, he dialed her number. It went straight to voice mail. “Antonio. We have to go.”

“I’ve found something,” Antonio called.

“We have to go now!”

“What the fuck is wrong? I found the detonator. You were right.” Antonio stood and walked toward him. “Jesus Christ, you look like shit. What’s going on?”

He could see what looked like a black box in his buddy’s hand. “We have to get to Laney. Now. She’s in danger.”

“What are you talking about?”

“No time to explain. Get ready to call that into Carter.” He trotted toward the truck.

“There’s a damn, blue truck coming. I suggest we haul ass.”

Garcia waited, squinting until he could make out the truck. “Same asshole who shot at me before.”

“Fuck. And you didn’t call the sheriff?”

“I didn’t think he’d believe me.” They both jumped into the truck and Garcia just started the engine when the other truck roared up on them.

“Get the hell out of here.”

“See if you can get the plate.” In the rearview mirror, he could see two people in the cab and one had a shotgun in his hand. “Fuck!”

Bam!

“Shit. They are shooting at us,” Antonio huffed and jerked around to look out the back window.

“No doubt making another attempt to grab the evidence. My guess is the heat is on them. Stay low. There’s a back way out of here, but it’s a bumpy ride.”

Antonio looked at the piece. “Sophisticated piece. Not some shit you put together out of crap you have lying around.”

Ping!

“Damn it! They’re getting closer.” Garcia floored the accelerator, the truck skidding on a patch of snow as he tried to round a corner.

“Where the hell are you going?”

“Trust me.”

Ping! Bap!

“Okay, that one hit.” Antonio jerked out his phone. “Just keep us alive.”

Garcia drove in and out of the trees, weaving as the tires tried to grip against the snow. He darted his eyes back and forth. If he could get to the secondary road, he might be able to lose them. Might.

“Carter, it’s Antonio. I have some evidence you’re going to want for the Hatcher case, plus we need some back up. We’re being shot at.”

Garcia came to a clearing, shocked the other truck was right behind them. He turned and hit the other road, hissing when he noticed a group of rocks had fallen across the entire area. “Hold on.”

“Yeah. We’re at the damn Hatcher place. Carter? You there? Goddamn it. Lost the reception.”

Ping! Wham!

Crack!

“That one went through the window. Are you okay?” Antonio asked.

“Fine.” He gritted his teeth as he drove over the rocks, praying to God the tires wouldn’t blow. When they were successfully on the other side, he glanced into the rearview mirror. “I don’t see them.”

“They could be coming around the other way.”

“That’s possible.” Garcia held his breath as he half skidded down the slope, finally moving sideways and precariously close to a drop off.

“Fuck.” Antonio gripped the dashboard.

They continued the slide, time standing in slow motion, until Garcia managed to jerk the wheel, throwing them in the other direction. He’d eased off the gas and as the truck finally righted, slowing down, he breathed a sigh of relief. When they were at the end of the road, he stopped and took a breath. “God. We have to get to my place.”

“What happened with this girlfriend of yours?”

“She’s been stalked for years by some asshole in organized crime. I think they found her.”

Antonio opened his mouth to retort and shrank back. “You need to get the sheriff involved.”

“Not until I know she’s safe.” He made a turn and floored the engine, adrenaline rushing through every cell in his body. Please God. Let her be all right. I’ll do anything. I promise. He bit back a strangled sound, unsure if the words would fall on deaf ears.

“Still no reception. The damn storm.”

“Yeah.” He drove hard, pushing the truck until his knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel. Within minutes, they pulled up his driveway and he skidded to a stop. “She’s not here. Her car is gone.”

“Take it easy. She might have gone with Shannon.”

“No, I know something is wrong.” He tumbled out of the truck and in through the unlocked door. He stood still, panting as he scanned the perimeter. “Laney? Topper?” Rushing into the bedroom, he checked the bathroom then ran into the kitchen. A note was left on the counter, a script handwriting spelling out his name. Beside the note was her diary.

Gutted, he grabbed the piece of paper, his fingers fumbling to open it. When he did, he fell against the counter.

Garcia. I will forever love you. You opened my world.

But this is for the best. I hope my diary gives you some comfort.

Stay safe…

Alexandra

“Fuck!” Alexandra. The name rolled off his tongue. She’d all but given up.

“Is she here?” Antonio huffed.

“She’s gone. Left. Which means she’s gone to her place to get her stuff. We might be able to catch her. Come on.” Before he got to his truck, his cell phone rang then stopped. Seconds later ringing again.

At the same time, Antonio’s phone rang.

Both men stopped cold.

“Hello?” Garcia prayed she was calling from another phone. “Laney?”

“It’s Shannon. I’ve been trying to call you,” Shannon exclaimed. “I’m calling about Laney. There’s something wrong. I know it in my gut. Who is chasing her?”

“What did she say?” Garcia could see Antonio’s face. His call was all business.

“She rambled, begging me to tell you that she loved you. She said someone from her past is stalking her?”

“Shannon, listen to me. Get the sheriff out to 512 Pineview Lane. That’s her address. I’m on my way. I think she’s in grave danger.”

“Shit. Okay. Okay. Good luck.”

When he ended the call, Antonio stood right behind him. “We have to go.”

“Yeah, we do but stop.”

“Now!” Garcia moved away and toward the truck.

Antonio jerked him back. “Listen to me. Did you just say 512 Pineview Lane?”

“Yes. That’s where Laney rented a house. I need to get there.”

He shook his head several times and kept his grip on Garcia’s arm. “Buddy, there’s been an explosion at that address.”

“No!”

* * *

Garcia had no idea how he’d driven or made it to her house. He only knew he had to save her, Laney, the love of his life.

“Hold on. Just hold on,” Antonio said over and over again. “The fire department and the team are already there. The explosion was big enough that the woods behind her house were set on fire.”

While he heard, knew what they were facing, he had no ability to respond. He pushed hard on the accelerator, flooring it up the road.

“We’re almost there, Captain. ETA two minutes. Is the team engaged?” Antonio asked.

“They’re all there. The wind is kicking up. We need all hands on deck.”

Garcia held his breath and could see the smoke swirling, making visibility all but impossible. He pressed on until they faced a roadblock of two emergency vehicles blocking the road. He threw the gear into park, stopped the engine and within seconds was out the door, running toward the fire.

“Wait!” Antonio called.

“No,” he said to no one in particular. Tears and smoke forced him to continuously blink as he raced toward her house. Within seconds, he could see the flames ripping through the trees, creating a crown fire as embers bounced from one tree to another. The wind whipped as the snow continued to fall, but the icy conditions would only stall the firefighting team, hindering their movements.

The captain raced forward, holding out his hands. “Son, Antonio told me. You can’t go in the house. Too dangerous.”

Garcia pressed forward, pushing past. “I have to save her.” He could just make out her car. She’d come here to get her things. To run away. To leave town. To save herself. Fuck you, asshole! I’m going to kill you!

“Puevos. Stop. Now!”

Anguish tore through every cell, every muscle in his body. Garcia panted and hunched over. “You don’t understand.” The sirens continued to roar as other vehicles pulled up behind his truck, firefighters yanking down hoses.

“Water. Where’s the water?” Garcia knew he was mumbling.

“The river. Think, Garcia. Stay with me. Let the firemen do their jobs. Both you and Antonio are needed on the ridge. Come on. We have to work together,” Captain Phillips kept his voice soothing.

Boom!

“What the hell was that?” Antonio flanked Garcia’s side.

“I don’t know but the team needs both of you. Take Garcia up to the ridge and take over, Antonio. I need your expertise. Sawyer is not fit for duty yet.” The captain gave him a nod.

“Come on, Puevos. Get suited up,” Antonio directed.

Garcia was aware he was being tugged, pulled to another location. He was numb, dead inside. “I can’t do this.”

Antonio took both of his arms. “You can, and you will. Do you hear me? Laney will be fine. I have a good feeling. Come on. We’re a team and that includes you. Let’s get this done!”

Every move perfunctory, he managed to exchange jackets and grab the ax and chainsaw. He followed Antonio up a pathway, cutting back underbrush and trees, abating the fuel before the fire leapt to the area. He was also moving further and further away from the firefighters and their desperate attempt to put out the fire at the house.

He knew. His gut told him.

She was already gone.

Antonio moved ahead, taking powerful swings as the sound of timbers falling was all around them. “Come on. We are not breaking up the team. Get your ass in gear, Puevos.”

Garcia reacted, his training kicking in and within minutes they could see members of the team just ahead.

“Giovanni and Puevos are with the team.” Antonio called into the radio.

“The fire is rolling to the west. Be careful given the wind shear,” the captain answered.

Garcia swung his ax, every move pained as he used every ounce of his upper body strength to cut through limbs, fallen debris and twigs. He no longer cared about anything but the task at hand. No one else could be destroyed by this monster.

“Hansen, Washington, report,” Antonio ordered.

Stoker moved out of the trees, removing his helmet and wiping his eyes. “We’ve cut off a solid forty percent, but if this wind continues, we won’t be able to control it. The firefighters are able to control the backside.”

Moose eased beside him, nodding to both men. “We’ve cut several scratch and control lines, but the very top of the ridge we haven’t been able to get to.”

Garcia eyed the new man and could see nothing but respect in his eyes. “Then that’s where we need to go.”

“Are you sure you can handle this?” Stoker asked, moving closer to his friend.

“I have to. She could have run into the woods. I may still be able to save her.” Garcia gave a respectful nod and moved up the hill.

“Let’s go. Move out and we stay in a line.” Antonio directed the group and they followed in a semi-circle, moving up the slope of the mountain.

Sirens had all but stopped, leaving an eerie vacuum as the fire crackled through the pine trees, ripping through them and leaving a shower of embers mixing with the flying snow. They worked side by side, and as the light level dropped, leaving them in a sea of orange, they continued to work.

Hours later, they heard the sound of the firefighters, the hiss as water poured over flames. They were close to coming together, putting a possible end to the horrific situation.

Exhaustion poured through all of them, yet they worked as a team, nine men who were now working together.

Garcia was devoid of emotion, moving on raw adrenaline, but he kept hope. He had to.

After another series of cuts, moving debris and digging a final control line, they could all see progress.

Antonio held out his arms, stopping the actions. He lowered down, placing his hands on his knees for several seconds.

“We did good,” Steel said as he hunkered down on the ground. “You guys are dynamite.”

“We are somethin’,” Landen said as he yanked off the scarf tied around his neck, wiping his face.

Riker walked toward Moose, extending his hand. “Glad to have you.”

Garcia watched as they shook hands then noticed one of the firefighters approaching. He started to move forward when Stoker held him back.

“Let Antonio do this.”

Nodding, Garcia shifted and realized he had a sharp pain in his back. He grunted as he dropped to his knees, watching the face of the firefighter as he spoke with Antonio. Only once did the man look over. He struggled to take off his jacket, panting as the pain continued. He could see the look on Antonio’s face as he started his return, coming straight for him. “Stoker.”

“It’s going to be okay, buddy. I swear to God.” Stoker moved beside him.

Antonio took long strides, trampling down the snow, the crunch echoing in Garcia’s ears. He tossed the coat onto the ground and for a few precious seconds could see her face, her twinkling eyes and could even hear her laughter. He managed to stand as Antonio closed the distance.

“Garcia. I talked with the fire chief. I, um…” Antonio faltered and looked away briefly. When he looked back, he had tears in his eyes. “They found a body.”

“Jesus. Garcia, you’re bleeding.” Stoker opened his mouth and shifted backwards. “Buddy. What the hell happened to you?”

“A body?” Garcia whispered hoarsely then fell to his knees.

“Shit. We need to get him some help!”

“Get him out of here now!”

Garcia slumped over as the air around him became cold, so very cold. He was slipping, falling until he could no longer feel the pain.

“We need an ambulance. Now!”

“You’ve been reading my diary again, haven’t you?” Laney asked as she eased in front of the fire.

“Just trying to learn more about you.” Garcia cupped her face, rubbing his thumb across her lips.

“And what did you learn?”

He leaned down, whispering in her ear, “That you truly belong to me.”

She shivered and gripped his arm, moaning as he pressed his lips against hers.

“Garcia. Wake up. Come on. Stay with me.”

“I’m fine,” Garcia huffed, pulled out of the dream. “What the hell?”

“Don’t try and move. You lost some blood and have a pretty good nick on your shoulder, but fortunately the bullet only grazed your shoulder. Damn lucky.” The voice was soft but aggressive.

Garcia tried to make sense of what he was hearing. He blinked several times then struggled to sit up. The ambulance back doors were open, and he could smell smoke. “How long have I been out?”

“Not long. Maybe ten minutes. You fought every step of the way.” The EMT laughed.

“You scared us there, buddy. Christ.” Stoker peered around the doors. “Lookin’ pretty rough.”

“What do you know?” He slid off the gurney and moved toward the exit.

“I wouldn’t go anywhere if I were you. You insisted that we stay here, but you really should go to the hospital.”

Stoker shook his head as he looked at the woman. “Don’t bother. Stubborn streak a mile wide.”

“I’m fine. I need my phone.” Garcia ambled off the rig, rubbing his shoulder as he tried to search for his truck.

“Whoa, where do you think you’re going?” Riker asked, moving in front of him.

“To get my damn phone. Get the hell out of my way.” Garcia pushed hard and could see his truck. The dream was so fresh. She was alive. He knew it. He made it to the truck before Stoker reached out, pushing his hand against the door. “What are you doing?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

“What?”

“They found a body,” Stoker said as he lowered his eyes.

“I heard that. It’s not her. Now, let me into the damn truck or so help me God.”

“Who else could it be?”

He heard the concern as well as the uncertainty. “Move back. Please.”

Stoker exhaled but took several steps back. “I know it hurts.”

Grabbing his phone, Garcia pressed the button and glared at the blank screen. No calls. No voice mails. No texts.

Nothing.

Garcia held the phone to his head, wishing for a ring, any sound at all.

Antonio moved closer, walking with Landen. “How are you holding up?”

“Better than to be expected. Did Carter call you back?” Garcia asked.

“I just called him. I’m taking him the detonator after we leave here. He was very interested in what I had to say.” Antonio laughed. “You’re not a bad sleuth, even though you almost got both of us killed.”

“Do I want to know?” Landen asked.

“That information you found out about James Hatcher was useful. Looks like the man might be arrested.” Garcia tried to figure out if anyone would have picked her up. No, no one except… Several beads of sweat trickled down his neck.

Landen grinned. “I didn’t get to tell you the best part. His daughter is married to some dude from a mob family out of Miami, at least according to my very favorite administrator. She called to tell me the juicy gossip.”

Garcia took a step back, almost stumbling. “What?”

“That’s it. You’re going to the hospital,” Antonio demanded.

“Giovanni is right. Let’s get you out of here. There’s nothing more we can do,” Stoker walked closer.

“I’m not going anywhere. Laney could be missing. I’m going to call her.” And he did, hitting send and pacing, his mind reeling. When the phone actually rang, he was encouraged. When it went to voice mail after four rings, he knew for certain she had to be alive. “We have to find her.”

“Garcia. You need to listen to me.” Stoker nodded to the others, who backed away.

“Don’t handle me, Stoker. I know you mean well, but I’m going to find her. That is not her body in that house. It just isn’t.” He sucked in his breath as tears formed in his eyes. “I. Have. To. Try.”

Stoker shook his head. “Then come on. I’ll drive. You’re in no damn condition.”

“Thank you.” Garcia wiped away his tears, yet his eyes continued to burn. As he slid into the passenger seat, he caught another glimpse of the destroyed house, a shell of a car. What little she had was gone, much like her entire life.

Before they could take off, blue lights could be seen. Garcia looked in the side mirror. “No doubt the sheriff.” He eased out of the truck and waited as Sheriff Brennan rolled to a stop.

The sheriff cut the engine and climbed out, looking up toward the smoke and remaining fire. “Damn shame. We’ve had way too much of this shit.” He walked closer, nodding to several of the firefighters as they passed by. “Evening, fellas. Thought I’d kill two birds with one stone so to speak.”

Antonio nodded to Garcia as he approached. “The detonator?”

“If that’s the evidence you got, then I’ll have the last piece of the puzzle.” Sheriff Brennan looked from one to the other.

“Mind filling me in?” Captain Phillips joined the group.

“Seems like your boys have been doing some sleuthing again. If they keep this up, might run my department out of town.” The sheriff exhaled. “I arrested James Hatcher a couple hours ago. Mighty talkative after that. I pity the poor guy. I have to say I do. Seems he had a lot of pressure from some tough guy.”

“Tony Scavuli?’ Garcia asked, knowing the answer.

“Now, how the hell do you know that?” The sheriff huffed.

Garcia reached inside the truck, pulling out the crushed black box. “I just do. I hope this will help.”

“Detonator. Seen that in action before, but not for a long time,” Captain Phillips stated. “Notice the wiring here. That’s not used much any longer.”

“Was he also involved with some level of organized crime?” Garcia risked asking.

Everyone looked at him.

“Well, that could be an interesting part of the story and something I just can’t talk about at this point. Got a few things to check out. I can tell you that poor Mr. Hatcher was so in over his head with that bed and breakfast that he didn’t know what to do. He bought the thing for his daughter. Then she ran off to get married. You know how that goes.” The sheriff laughed. “Thank God, I don’t have a daughter.”

“Insurance money?” Garcia asked.

“Well, that’s what we thought. Made sense with the new policies and all, but he didn’t know they’d been purchased. There’s a lot more to come out about this, but at least he’s cooperating. Now, about this body up there. Young woman, so I hear?”

Garcia fell against the truck, his entire body shaking. “They haven’t identified the body.”

“I’m sorry, son. I’m just going by who rented the place,” Sheriff Brennan inched closer. “You knew the girl?”

“That’s for another time, Sheriff. She could be missing,” Stoker interjected. “We were going to look for her.”

“In this weather and after a fire of that magnitude? Highly unlikely.” Sheriff Brennan glanced at Garcia. “Something you need to tell me, son?”

Suddenly, a sound squawked from the sheriff’s car.

“Hold on a second. Been a damn ass busy night.” Huffing, the sheriff walked to his car, opened the door and grabbed his radio. “What’s up, Betty?”

“We have a report of shots fired down near Smith Street. Just on our side of the jurisdiction.”

“Shit. I’ll head that way,” the sheriff grumbled.

“Smith Street?” Garcia’s ears perked up.

“Why? Do you know that place?” Stoker asked, turning in his direction.

“Yeah. That’s the attorney Laney knows and a man who I think is involved.” Garcia opened the door of his truck.

“Now, son. Don’t go off half-cocked. Let me and my deputies check it out,” the sheriff cautioned.

Garcia climbed into the truck, slammed and locked the door, and started the engine.

“Wait!” The sheriff waved his arms.

But he refused to stop. Backing out, he maneuvered around the other vehicles until he hit the main road. He turned on the radio, switching to the channel most often used by the sheriff’s department, waiting for idle chatter. Then he pressed on the accelerator.

Within twenty minutes, he drove onto Smith Street. He headed into the parking lot of the attorney’s office and scanned the dimly lit area. There were no vehicles, nothing to indicate anyone had been there, but there was a single light on the same floor he’d been to. Someone had been at the building late. He idled as he listened on the radio. There’d been one additional call issued from the station. A call for back-up. There was no one around, no flashing blue lights or even other passing vehicles. At only a little after four in the morning, the entire city remained quiet.

He pulled to the curb and looked both ways. The only thing he could do was drive the streets. Thirty minutes later and no additional chatter, anger boiled within him. He sat at a traffic light while it changed once, twice and a third time. This was a wild goose chase. The shots fired could be from any crime or domestic issue. He was grasping at straws.

With no other ideas and no sense of what else he could do, he made the turn for home. He called her twice, finally leaving a garbled message. By the time he turned into his driveway, light was just dawning over the horizon, giving a pink hue across the sky. He was also crying, allowing the tears to flow. He’d failed her. He’d failed himself.

What if…

The dark SUV in the driveway was partially obscured by the direction the driver had positioned the vehicle. He cut the lights immediately and pulled to a stop. Getting out slowly, he listened for any sounds before pulling a tire iron from behind the seat then his flashlight. When he approached the SUV, he switched on the light, becoming positive he’d seen it before. But where? The office of the attorney. The oversized wheels had caught his attention before.

He walked all the around the SUV, flashing the light onto the passenger seat. A cell phone was turned over on the floor. He tried the doors, but they were locked. The house remained dark and there were no outward signs he’d had a visitor, yet he was drawn to the forest on the side of his property.

Stopping, he listened again before moving through the trees, taking careful steps. He swung the light but could see nothing given the denseness of the forest. On edge, he turned in a full circle, taking another listen.

Then he heard a sound, a muffled noise almost like a—

Pop! Pop!

Gggrrr…

He’d know the sound of a gun anywhere. Taking off toward the noise, he jumped over areas of dense underbrush and fallen limbs until he heard a distinctive bark. Topper. He took giant leaps until he hit a small clearing, then he took off running. When he heard the bark again, the single woof was followed by a guttural growl, one full of anger as well as fear.

“Topper!” He risked the single call then waited, remaining low to the ground.

The shrill, female cry brought the hair up on the back of his neck. Laney. He ran toward the sound, fighting his way through the brush until he heard additional noises. A creature came bounding in his direction and he raised the iron just as he flashed the light. “Topper. Oh God. You’re alive.”

Topper jumped several times, drooling and barking.

“Stay here. Just stay here, boy.” He held the dog until he quieted and scanned the area, seeing nothing.

Topper whimpered but sat down, panting, the same whines creating an eerie sound.

Every step as careful as he could, Garcia made his way further, able to run only a small portion of the way.

Pop!

The shot was closer, too close. He rushed forward and suddenly noticed a flash. He stopped and looked, scanning the entire perimeter until he saw her. Laney. She was backing up, her hands out front, her expression full of terror.

“No!”

Shining the light, Garcia could see the barrel of a gun and just as Laney shifted, turning toward him and shielding her eyes, he rushed forward, charging toward her. “Laney!”

She opened her terror filled eyes wide and shook her head. “No!”

Bam!