The sheriff cursed, yanked his radio from his belt, and barked orders. “All units, APB on Sherry Dalton. Former deputy. Last seen at the sheriff’s office while awaiting interview. She left the building through the side exit and is possibly armed and dangerous. Repeat, she is possibly armed and dangerous.”
Laney’s stomach twisted harder. Sherry on the run meant the woman was cornered. And someone that desperate was twice as deadly.
“She’ll come after us,” Laney whispered, hearing the tremor in her own voice. “Or worse… Evie.”
Harlan’s hand closed around her arm, steady but fierce. “That’s exactly why we’re getting back to the ranch right now.”
They pushed through the exit, the morning air cold against her skin, and jogged across the lot toward their SUV. Laney kepther eyes darting, every shadow looking like it could hide a gun barrel.
Then a deafening boom split the air.
The ground rocked beneath her feet, and heat slammed into her chest. Laney instinctively dropped, her ears ringing.
Not their SUV.
It was a truck just three spaces down that was engulfed in fire, the hood blown wide, metal shrieking as it twisted.
Brannigan’s truck.
Laney’s knees hit the asphalt as another piece of metal whistled past her head, landing hard enough to send sparks skittering across the concrete surface of the parking lot. Harlan shoved her toward the bumper of their SUV, shielding her with his body as chunks of flaming debris rained down from what was left of Brannigan’s truck.
Screams rose around them, high-pitched and panicked. There were some people calling out for help.
The sheriff’s deputies who had been inside poured out of the building, weapons drawn at first until they realized what they were facing. Smoke billowed thick and black, curling into the morning sky, and the heat rolled over her like a living thing.
“Get back!” the sheriff shouted, the order lost in the mix of voices.
A woman shrieked in pain, clutching her arm where a shard of glass had sliced through. Another deputy dragged her toward cover, his shirt already singed by an ember that had floated too close.
Laney lifted her head just enough to take in the scope of what was happening. The truck was barely recognizable, the fire eating its way through the frame, spitting and snapping. The nearest row of cars was only a few feet away, paint already blistering under the rising heat. If the flames reached their gas tanks…
Her stomach dropped. This wasn’t over.
“We need the fire department, now,” Sheriff Barnes bellowed, already herding people back. He obviously realized the potential for things to get a whole lot worse.
Laney’s pulse hammered, and she shot glances all around them. The building itself wasn’t far. If the fire spread, if there were more explosives hidden in that truck…
She pressed closer to Harlan, not caring about the grit biting into her palms or the acrid stench burning her lungs. Every instinct screamed this was a setup, that whoever had planted the bomb hadn’t just wanted Brannigan gone. They wanted chaos. They wanted everyone scrambling.
And it was working.
But why create this? Was it to try to kill them? Or was something else going on?
Before Laney could even try to come up with some answers, the world split open again. A second blast erupted from the burning truck, sharper and louder than the first. The ground shuddered beneath her boots, and the shockwave knocked her back against the SUV. The roar was followed by another chorus of screams, raw and terrified, as shrapnel tore through the air.
Laney covered her head and curled close to Harlan, the pungent smoke clawing at her lungs. She could taste it, thick and metallic, and her ears rang from the force of the explosion.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught some movement that jolted her focus. Brannigan barreled out of the building, his face twisted in rage.
“Son of a bitch!” he bellowed, pointing at what remained of his truck.
His curses ripped through the chaos, but before anyone could stop him, he charged straight into the wall of smoke. His figure blurred, swallowed up in the haze, and then he was gone.
“Brannigan!” the sheriff shouted, but his voice was nearly drowned out by the commotion.
Laney’s heart pounded. None of this made sense. Not unless—
“This feels like a distraction,” she blurted, her voice hoarse. She gripped Harlan’s arm, needing to steady herself as much as she needed to get the words out. “Harlan, what if this isn’t about killing Brannigan at all? What if Sherry or Brannigan set this up to pull everyone’s attention on the chaos so they could go after Evie?”
