“Get down!” The woman from the woods advanced on the house. Copper hair, white parka, she held a handgun, her eye on the shooter as she crouched where Keely had been.
Then everything went quiet.
The shooter in the barn ducked away, and for a long moment, Keely didn’t breathe.
Then Dawson got up, motioned to the sheriff, and they closed in on the barn.
What were they—Oh,Dawson,don’tdie,don’t—
The barn exploded. An inferno of heat and flame that made Dawson hit the snow. She ducked too, the furnace blistering.
Dawson!
But when she looked up, he was running toward her, something ferocious in his gaze.
And then Vic groaned. Keely looked down even as Vic’s eyes opened.
Vic put a hand to her chest, made a throat-clearing sound, and pushed up on one arm.
What—?
No blood in the snow. Vic had unzipped her jacket, pulled it apart.
Vest. The woman wore a Kevlar vest.
“Vic! You okay?” Dawson landed in the snow next to her, on his knees.
“Wow, that hurt.” She winced as she breathed in. “Did you get him?”
Dawson glanced at the fire now consuming the barn. “Dunno. Maybe one of the bullets hit a propane tank.”
Then he looked at Keely. “You okay?”
She just blinked at him, her breaths coming fast. And yes, maybe she should be throwing herself into his arms but—“You told Vic.”
He frowned. “What—”
“How could you tell her? How could you bring her into this—oh my gosh, Dawson, you knew how ... you knew I didn’t...”
“Keely—stop, it’s not like that.” This from Vic, who reached out to her.
She rounded on the woman. “Really? What, are you saying you already knew?”
Vic’s mouth opened, and then she looked away.
And Keely gasped. Wait—what?
And then the redhead came over and crouched in front of Vic. “Let’s take a look at that bruise. There’s a med kit in the cruiser.”
Vic sighed and got up, followed the redhead.
Keely shook her head. Wow. So, not the reunion she’d expected.
“Calm down, Keely,” Dawson said softly.
“Don’t tell me to calm down!” She rounded on him, and for a second, possessed a vision of a different ending. One where she took a breath and threw herself at him, holding on.
But, no—“The last thing I am going to do is calm down. I’ve been kidnapped, shot at, chased, hit in the face.” She indicated her still throbbing, probably reddened wound.
