CHAPTER 54
Naomi’s mindraced as panic surged through her. “I can help.”
“You have a concussion.”
“Probably.” She met his eyes. “But I’m still faster than you think.”
Micah looked at her for a long moment. She could see him working through her words—the tactical calculation warring with every instinct that wanted her to wait in the vehicle with the doors locked.
“The outbuilding,” he finally said. “Good Boy is in there. If you can get to him and let him loose?—”
“He’ll cause enough chaos to pull them outside.” She nodded. “I can do that.”
“You go through the trees. Stay back. Don’t let them see you.” His eyes were hard and steady on hers. “The moment he’s loose, you get back into those woods and stay there until I come for you. You donotcome toward the building. You donottry to help beyond this. Are we clear?”
“Yes. I heard you.” She held his gaze. “I’ll stay in the woods.”
He studied her face another second before nodding.
They moved through the trees together until the property opened up ahead of them, close enough to see the layout clearly.The outbuilding sat off to the left—small, wooden, set back from the main structure. A man leaned against the hood of the SUV near the front, phone in hand, not paying attention.
Good Boy’s barking drifted from the outbuilding in irregular bursts.
“I’ll approach from the north side,” Micah said. “There’s enough shadow to get close. Once that guy is dealt with, I’ll move on to the house. By then you need to have Good Boy loose.”
“Understood.”
He looked at the property one more time. Then back at her.
He reached out and caught her hand.
Naomi went still.
His grip was firm and warm. His eyes found hers and held them with an expression she hadn’t seen from him before. Open and unguarded in a way he usually wasn’t.
“I’m sorry I pulled away,” he whispered. “I handled it wrong. When this is over, I’ll explain everything.”
Naomi looked at him. At the set of his jaw and the steadiness of his eyes and the hand holding hers like he meant it.
She nodded. “When this is over.”
He squeezed her hand once.
Then she turned and ran.
She pushed into the tree line, moving as fast as she dared, keeping low and using the undergrowth for cover. Her head throbbed with every footfall. She ignored it. The outbuilding was maybe forty yards from where she’d entered the woods. She’d have to arc wide to stay out of the sight lines from the main building.
She pushed through a tangle of brush, ducked under a low branch, and kept moving.
Good Boy barked again. Closer now.
She was almost there. Thankfully, the building was pushed up against the woods. She wouldn’t have to expose herself in a clearing in order to open the door.
She pressed herself against the back wall of the outbuilding, breathing hard, and listened. No voices nearby. No footsteps.
She moved around the side and found the door. It was old wood with a simple latch.
Her hand closed around it.
