Cold Case Contraband by Jaycee Bullard

Author:Jaycee Bullard
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2023-04-10T19:47:51+00:00

TEN

Run!

Her legs felt frozen as her eyes fixed on the men entering through the front door, and her throat constricted in an audible gasp. These men were no strangers. She would know that mop of wild curls pushed back by a black headband anywhere. But how was it possible? Could it really be...her family? Her gaze flitted from Kirby to Clint and to a third guy she didn’t know. Confusion and wonder ballooned in her chest. Her odds of escape had just increased exponentially. But these weren’t trained fighters. They were unarmed civilians in harm’s way. Relief and anxiety crowded her brain.

Her heart skipped a beat as one of the brutes behind her raised his weapon and pointed it at Kirby.

“No!” she screamed as she took off running.

The gunman seemed to hesitate as Clint came barreling toward him.

Anger, fear and love jangled together in her head. There was no way she could reach the shooter in time to save her brother. And Clint wasn’t fast enough either. Despair wound around her heart even as her legs kept pumping her forward, her eyes locked on the pistol.

Grrrr. Grrr. A low growl broke through her concentration as a blur of furry ferocity propelled past her.

Bruno.

“Yowl! Augh!” The man howled with surprise as the little dog sank his teeth into his leg. The distraction gave Clint just enough time to tackle the shooter and wrestle his gun from his hand.

Carmen’s gait slowed as it seemed for a moment that the danger had passed. But only for a moment.

“Carmen! Watch out!” The shout came from Kirby.

The two men from upstairs streamed through the stairwell door, pistols at the ready.

“We need to get out of here!” Carmen cried.

Kirby and his companion took off through the door as Clint fired two rounds at the men behind them.

Grabbing Clint’s arm, Carmen pulled him through the exit. Her eyes darted to the left and right. Which way to go? If only she had her keys, but she’d left them on the table.

“Get in,” Clint cried as his rusty old F-150 skidded toward them, with Kirby at the wheel and the mystery man in the passenger seat next to him.

She and Clint jumped into the truck, and Kirby took off, burning rubber as he headed down the road.

“Bruno!” Carmen cried.

“I’ve got him right here.” The man in the front turned to face her. “Hey. I’m Shane. Shane Rogan.” He stretched an arm down toward the floor, lifted the little pup up and handed him to Carmen.

Relief—and confusion—flooded her senses. Bruno was safe. But what was Shane Rogan doing with Clint and Kirby? And why was Kirby the one driving?

“Kirby! What are you doing? You don’t have a license.”

“I had a permit for a while until I got suspended. But why are you freaking out? I can get us where we’re going as well as any of these other guys.”

“Hey,” Clint said.

“Right. Except for Dad,” Kirby added.

Okay, okay. Enough chitchat. She needed to marshal her thoughts and make a plan. The neighbors had probably called 911 to report the shooting.

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