Rage tightened Chad's face. "What the fuck are you doing?"
"Everything’s cool,” Shane replied. “We’re just having a talk."
"Everything is not cool. Sounds to me like she's trying to talk you out of it.” Chad pulled a gun from his waistband that was hidden underneath his shirttail.
That was our cue.
By that time, Jack was off the bench and had his gun drawn. "Drop the weapon!"
Chad's eyes filled with panic. He glanced at Jack, still gripping the pistol tightly that was aimed at Shane.
I emerged from the underbrush with my weapon drawn. "Put the gun down!"
The walls closed in around Chad, and dread filled his face. There was no way out of this for him, but he was going to give it the good old college try.
He squeezed the trigger, and muzzle flash flickered from the barrel. The bullet rocketed across the clearing and pelted Shane in the chest.
Crimson spewed as he tumbled back to the sand, clutching at the wound in his chest.
Chad backed out of the clearing and swung his pistol towards Jack. I think the kid watched too many movies or played too many video games.
Jack double-tapped the punk before he could get a shot off. The bullets peppered his chest and spun him around.
Somehow, the kid stayed on his feet. He sprinted down the path toward the beach, leaving a trail of blood in the sand.
Jack chased after him, but the kid wasn't going to get far. He was dead and didn’t know it yet.
I rushed to Shane and applied pressure to the wounds. I shouted over comms, "Shots fired. Suspect down!"
There was no way Erickson and Faulker didn't hear the gunshots. The deafening bangs had echoed through the night. It wasn't long before the two deputies arrived with weapons drawn.
By that time, the rhythmic pulse of Shane's heartbeat faded underneath my palms as his warm blood oozed through my fingers.
Jack had chased Chad down to the beach, where the kid collapsed, face forward into the sand. Blood pooled, soaking into the grains.
By the time I got to them, Jack had knelt beside the body and was checking the kid’s vitals. He looked at me and gave a grim headshake.
The sound of sirens warbled in the distance, drawing near.
Soon, Dietrich snapped photos, and forensic investigators chronicled the scene. Brenda arrived with her crew, and so did the sheriff.
"Tell me exactly what happened," Daniels said.
I gave him the scoop.
He took a deep breath as he processed the information. "You think someone in this chain of hoodlums is responsible for the death of Eden Saint?”
"Looks that way,” I said with an uncertain shrug. “Maybe she was getting cold feet about laundering money for the cartel. Maybe she wanted out. Maybe she threatened to go to the cops. Who knows?”
"Where's Nova?"
I looked around but didn't see her. Nova and the backpack of money were gone. She’d slipped out in the chaos.
"That girl is a fugitive," the sheriff said. "Find her. Bring her back."
"I'm on it.”
Daniels put out a BOLO and sent a unit to her mother’s house.
