“Not unless the shot scared him to death,” Trace said. “Upper chest wound. Should be survivable. I came damn close, though. I would have taken the kill shot if Skye’s sister hadn’t engaged with the bastard the way she did. Damned brave thing to do.”
“Or stupid.” Behind him, several pin-dots of light appeared in the distance, but no way was he letting them catch up. “Could have gotten herself killed.”
“She took the risk, changed the odds, and gave me another option. I figured it would cause less trouble if I just wounded the a-hole and ended the threat.”
The road was rough and bumpy, tough on the low-slung sports car. Behind him, the pin-dots of light in the distance held steady but made no visible gains.
“Shoot anyone else?”
“No.” Trace’s mouth tightened. “Not that they didn’t deserve it.”
Edge grunted. “That’s for sure.” The car fishtailed a little as he took a flat curve, and the lights behind him disappeared. Edge turned on his headlights and pushed the car faster, leaving Henson’s men in the dust. Literally.
If he didn’t get back to the motel in time, Skye would head for Denver. Or maybe not.
Edge pressed harder on the gas.
* * *
At the Trails West Inn, Skye and Callie loaded the rest of their clothes and gear into the back of the Yukon; then Skye moved it around to the back of the motel out of sight.
She checked her digital wristwatch. Time was up, but Edge and Trace hadn’t returned. Fear for them soured her stomach.
She glanced over at Callie, whose skirts swirled around her ankles as she paced the motel room. They needed to leave. Henson’s men could arrive any second. She needed to get Callie back to Denver, where she would be safe.
Skye walked over to the window. She didn’t want to leave, not until the rest of the team was safe. Not until Edge was safe.
She turned back to Callie. “We’ve waited long enough. Henson’s goons could show up any minute. Get in the car.”
Callie shook her head, shifting her long blond hair across her shoulders. The pale strands were covered with dirt and leaves, her long skirt dusty and torn.
“You hid the car,” she said. “There’s no way for them to know we’re here. I’m not leaving till I talk to the sheriff.” She walked over to the phone on the nightstand. “I’m calling him right now.”
“What if Akins is on Henson’s payroll? If he is, you could wind up back in the compound. Or both of us could end up in jail on some bogus charge. We’ll go back to Denver. I know police there we can trust.”
Callie’s eyes filled but her chin remained stubborn. “I’m calling him. I promised my friend. You can go back to Denver. I have to stay.”
Skye hadn’t told Callie about Molly or Sarah. There would be time for that once they were safe.
A car pulled into the parking lot. Skye ran to the window and saw Edge and Trace climbing out of the Nissan. Relief hit her hard. She opened the door and let them in.
“I see you two followed orders,” Edge drawled as Trace walked in behind him. “Not that I really expected you to.” His lips curved in a mixture of amusement and frustration, but she could tell he was glad she was still there.
“Callie’s determined to talk to the sheriff,” Skye said.
Edge nodded. “I called him. He’s meeting us here.”
Skye glanced toward the window. “What about Henson’s men?”
“They cut out before we got to town, turned around and headed back the way they came.”
Callie trembled as she sank down on the bed.
“It’s all right, Callie,” Edge said. “You’re safe. Your sister’s here, and we won’t let anything happen to you.” He turned. “By the way, I’m Edge, and this is Trace. He’s the guy who was up on the hill.”
Trace made a brief nod of his head. “Good to meet you, Callie. Nice work out there.”
Callie managed to smile, though her face was pale, her bottom lip cut and swollen, dried blood in the corner of her mouth. “Thank you both for your help.”
