How annoying. “So you have no real information about a trafficking ring?”
“No. Just that our father said he made a bunch of money recently by assisting with a ring and saying he had that girl hidden. That’s all. I certainly wish I could provide more information to you.” Abigail uncrossed her legs. “It’s your job to figure out where dear old Dad played the last year.”
The man had certainly hidden himself well. He had spent time down in an artist co-op in Arizona, so perhaps he’d just been wandering. Abigail had probably made up the entire situation as a defense for herself. There was no way to prove it, however. Laurel clicked off the recording app.
Abigail lounged across from her, looking far too pleased with herself. “You’re so cute to tag me as a material witness. My attorney would’ve chewed you up and spit you out so quickly. But I’m glad I could help on this investigation.” Her voice was light, almost smug.
Laurel tapped a staccato rhythm against the desktop. “If you do have any information regarding Joley McNalley, be a decent human being and—”
A sharp ping echoed through the office, metallic and faint. Laurel’s head snapped up. Abigail’s smile slipped, her brow furrowing.
The next sound was louder. Violent. Glass exploded inward, shards spraying across the desk and scattering over the floor. Metal clattered as the blinds jerked and twisted, punctured by a bullet that ripped through with vicious precision.
Laurel’s brain registered the gunfire a split second after her body was already moving. She lunged across the desk, slamming into Abigail and driving her hard to the floor.
“Get down!” Laurel’s shout was guttural, the adrenaline twisting her voice.
Abigail hit the floor with a gasp, limbs tangled awkwardly beneath her. “Laurel, what the—”
Another shot cracked through the room, tearing into the wall behind them. The blinds shredded, their metal slats flailing like loose wire. Rain blew in through the ruptured glass, icy and stinging.
“Shots fired,” Laurel yelled, flattening herself against the floor, her arm slung over Abigail’s shoulders to keep her pinned. Abigail’s heart beat steadily against her. Too calm. “Stay down,” Laurel growled.
“I am down.” Abigail’s voice was muffled, pressed against the hardwood. “Is this your idea of hospitality?”
“Shut up.” Laurel’s fingers were already at her holster, her sidearm cool and solid in her grip. The laptop was thrown askew, its screen cracked from where it had slammed against the edge of the desk. Papers drifted like leaves caught in a storm.
Another bullet tore through the window, punching through the broken glass and embedding itself in the opposite wall. Laurel’s mind raced, calculating angles, positions. North side—behind the building somewhere in the trees? They didn’t have security back there. She’d kept the blinds drawn. Had the shooter just guessed?
She angled her head to see Walter and Nester headed up the hallway, guns out, crouched low.
Walter caught her gaze. “Laurel? Report. Are you hit?”
“Negative. We’re both fine. But we have a sniper outside, north ridge.” She pressed a warning hand on Abigail’s arm and then rolled to the other side of her desk, coming up and shooting into the tree line and into the forest. To where she could loosely calculate the sniper might be.
Walter edged around the desk on the other side, still low.
Another bullet tore through the air, the blinds jerking violently before falling to the floor in a tangled mess.
Laurel twisted, her eyes narrowing as she aimed toward the shattered window. She couldn’t see anything. The rain outside was a solid sheet of gray, masking whatever vantage point the shooter was using. “Now—higher to the north.”
She and Walter rose at once, firing toward the northern tree line while Nester grabbed Abigail’s shoulders and pulled her out of the office toward the conference room.
A truck coughed from the tree line. Then an engine gunned. Two other trucks zipped around the building, lights bright, pointed toward the trees. Laurel’s phone buzzed from the floor and she dropped back down, noting it was Huck calling. She pressed the speaker. “We’re fine. Nobody hit.”
“Good. Stay covered.” He clicked off.
Laurel levered up to see Huck leap out of one truck, his gun out. Then he pulled Aeneas out of the back. Agent Norrs barreled out of the other truck, and they both headed into the forest toward the mountain, their flashlights bobbing in the rain.
“Laurel?” Nester called out. “Report?”
Laurel watched the moving flashlights. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, and her vision wavered as the adrenaline started to ebb in her body. Her hands began to shake. “Captain Rivers and Agent Norrs are in the woods, but I heard a truck engine before they arrived. I think we’re secure.”
“Huck and Wayne?” Abigail called out with a small chuckle. “How sweet. Our big, bad men are protecting us, Laurel. Don’t you just love it?”
Walter, back to the wall on the other side of the window with rain and wind blowing in, looked at her, his eyes narrowed and his chest heaving. “That chick is batshit crazy, boss,” he whispered.
Chapter 26
