Not waiting for her reply, I peel away, prayer on my lips.
Chapter 33
Kade
Briana peels out in my truck, gears grinding. As the engine roar fades, I focus. It’s time to end this.
“Diego. Look, she’s moving. Call an ambulance.”
The second his gaze drops to the blood pooling on the floor, I slam the top of my head into his gut. His rifle fires into the ceiling. My ears ring. Deaf, eyes stinging by the plaster raining down, I front-kick his hand.
Cartilage cracks. The weapon flies. When it hits the floor, I knee him in the balls. As he crumples into the fetal position, a swift boot to the chin knocks him out.
Still cuffed, I lower to the table and nudge my phone with my nose. When the mic blinks, I pray voice recognition doesn’t fail me now.
“Connect me to FBI Special Agent Scott Hunter.”
A minor miracle—he picks up. “Kade?”
“Yeah. Need an ambulance. My office.” Ass on the floor, I squeeze myself through the loop until my bound hands are in front.
“Already en route. How bad you hit?”
“Not for me. Bratner’s dead. Carmine’s out cold.” I fumble open my desk drawer for my spare cuff key.
“Glad you’re still with us. Hanging up. Just pulled into your lot.” Sirens blaring, his brakes squeal to a stop.
While I rub my wrists, he bursts into my office and lets out a low whistle. “Jesus. What the fuck happened here?”
“I’ll explain later. Right now, I need to find Bree. She took my truck—headed back to the trail. Toss me your keys.”
Snatching the keys from the air, I open the closet door. “Becca, to me.”
Halfway across the room, Hunt holds up his phone. “APB’s already out on her.”
I freeze. “What? Why?”
“She stopped at the border station. Told your sister you’d been shot, then took off before Kelly could ask questions. Kelly called 911. State Police figured the woman arrested for one murder just committed another.”
Hating to ask for help, I pull my phone from my pocket and dial. “Griff?”
“Sheriff.” The motherfucker smirks, smug as ever. “Heard you lost our suspect. Told you she’d do a runner.”
“She didn’t. She’s innocent. If you see her, bring her in—tell her we have Carmine in custody.”
An uncomfortably long silence follows. As I’m about to redial, the officer clears his throat. “Did he confess? Say anything?”
“Not yet. Why?”
“Just curious. He still with you?”
My spidey senses tingle.“No. On his way to Burlington. Broken hand. Head injury.”
He chuckles. “Knocked him out, did you?”
“You could say that—How far you from The Trail?”
“Three, maybe four minutes. I’ll let you know when I find her.”
