He pulled into a strip mall parking lot and slammed his palm against the steering wheel. Days of surveillance blown by an elementary school crossing. He’d have to report the lost surveillance to Dom. His wolf growled in frustration. The hunt would continue, but not today.
Chapter
Three
Brie staredat her phone screen, willing the GPS to load, but the spinning wheel just kept turning. No network connection. She was completely lost.
She tried refreshing the app again. Nothing. The screen showed her blue dot in a sea of gray, no roads labeled and no directions available.
“Come on, come on,” she muttered, holding the phone higher, searching for even one bar of signal.
The van’s engine ticked as it cooled. In the back, her bakery delivery was growing cold. The Harvest Moon Weekend guests would be expecting fresh pastries for their continental breakfast, and here she was, lost in an industrial wasteland, parked next to a dumpster, with no idea how to get back to civilization.
Brie opened the van door, thinking maybe she’d get better reception outside. The November air bit her cheeks as she stepped onto the gravel shoulder, phone raised high.
That’s when she heard the engines.
Around the edge of the dumpster, Brie spotted two black SUVs pulling up to a loading dock about fifty yards away, across a wide swath of scrubby meadow and eroded parking lot. Five men in dark clothing climbed out. They moved with military coordination. This wasn’t a normal delivery crew.
Brie couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. The smell of cat piss choked her lungs.
Voices carried on the cold air. Rapid and agitated. The man with the briefcase was shaking his head. The argument escalated, hands gesturing sharply.
Then, without warning, one of the men pulled out a gun and shot the briefcase carrier in the head. The sound cracked through the morning air like thunder. The man dropped instantly, briefcase hitting the concrete, blood spreading in a dark pool on the ground.
Brie’s hand flew to her mouth, stifling the scream lodged in her throat. Her whole body shook as she scrambled behind the dumpster.
They’re going to see me. They’re going to see the van. I’m dead. I’m dead.
The SUVs started again. Brie held her breath as they pulled out. Gravel crunched under their tires, and the sound of their engines faded into the distance.
She climbed back into the van and waited, counting to thirty, to sixty, to one hundred before she dared to move. Her hands shook so badly she could barely press the ignition. The van started with what sounded like a roar in the silence.
“Police. Get to the police.” She said it out loud, needing to hear something besides the echo of that gunshot. “You’re okay. You’re okay. Just drive.”
The van fishtailed as she pulled a frantic three-point turn, gravel spraying. The bakery boxes slid and tumbled in the back, but she didn’t care. She had to get out of here. Now.
She drove without thinking about direction, taking turns at random, just trying to put distance between herself and that warehouse. The industrial district seemed endless, every building looking the same, every shadow potentially hiding those SUVs.
Then finally she saw a street sign she recognized. Mountain View Drive. She knew where she was. Ten minutes from downtown.
Ten minutes from safety.
The Fate Mountain Police Department sat on Main Street, its brick facade reassuring and solid. Brie parked the van and stumbled through the front doors.
“I need to report a murder,” she said to the desk sergeant, her voice high and strange. “I just saw… someone killed.”
The sergeant’s eyes widened. “Ma’am, are you hurt?”
“No, I… no. But there was a man, they shot him.”
“Okay, okay. Let me get a detective.” The sergeant picked up his phone. “Detective Reynolds? We have a witness to a possible homicide.”
Within minutes, Brie was sitting in an interview room, a cup of water in her shaking hands. Detective Gabriel Reynolds satacross from her, notepad ready. He had kind eyes and a calm presence that made her racing heart slow slightly.
“Brianna Rayner. I hear you witnessed what you believe was a murder. Tell me what you saw. Take your time. You’re safe here.”
Brie told him everything. The GPS malfunction, the wrong turn, the warehouse. She described the men as best she could. Height, clothing, the way they moved. The briefcase. The argument.
