Breathing hard. Legs and arms pumping. Flashlight swinging.
Ivy almost lost her footing in a boulder-sized divot.
Grunted.
Winced.
Was forced to slow.
The beam of light steadied, and that’s when she saw him.
A man, standing unmoving in the middle of an open field, his back to her, seemingly transfixed by the police cherries.
Ivy skidded to a halt.
“Dad?”?
?Chapter 35
Fucking Darnell.
Vaughn called his partner three times as he sped across the city toward the address that Delaney had given him, the address he’d passed along from the 911 call.
Gas leak. One dead.
No answer.
Vaughn saw the flashing lights. Pressed the gas a little harder.
He screeched to a stop within just inches of one of two PPD squad cars.
A uniform was standing near the doors of a barn, green this time, and smaller than the last. He was wearing a gas mask.
“Delaney?” Vaughn asked as he jumped out of his car.
It wasn’t Delaney. This cop was about six inches shorter.
“Where’s Delaney?”
The cop pointed to the east.
“He went that way on foot.” The mask muffled the man’s voice, making it difficult to understand.
Vaughn looked toward the barn.
“How many inside?”
“Just one. DOA.”
“Stay here.”
Vaughn broke into a jog, pulling out his flashlight as he went.
He didn’t have to go far. Three minutes later, he saw Delaney, easily recognizable by his uniform. Two others stood in front of the cop. With their flashlights aimed at the ground, all Vaughn could tell was that one of them was tall, the other short.
Vaughn unclipped the strap on his gun holster. Didn’t draw. Continued forward, but at a slower pace now.
“I said put your hands in the air!” Delaney shouted.
