Page 186 of The Woman By the Lake

Since Riggs was looking, and not at the ground, he caught something—movement, or a reflection off a balding head—and he saw Bubbles lurking behind a tree, down from him and at least thirty yards away.

Bubbles had seen Riggs and was doing action movie hand gestures, that if Riggs read him right, said he was on the man, Riggs was on the woman.

Riggs shook his head.

Bubbles did the gestures more sternly.

Goddammit.

He shook his head again, and before Bubbles fucked this, he shoved his flashlight in his back waistband, shifted his hand to the clip on Gia’s lead and moved out from cover, making an intentional racket.

Both the man and woman swung his way and froze.

He pointed at the man, and shouted, “Gia! Attack! Bite!” unclicked her leash, and she went flying through the woods.

The man started running.

The woman did too.

Riggs went after her.

He caught her easily, hauled her up, turned her, and slammed her down to her stomach, not giving that first shit she was a female, even when he heard her pained, “Oof!”

While she was winded, he pulled the digital cable down his arm, his knife out, slit the plastic fastener on the cable, and wasted no time hog-tying the bitch.

He heard the snarling, and the screams, over which Bubbles yelled, “Doc! I’m on him. Call this beast off!”

He ran that way, and only when he was close enough to intervene, did he shout, “Gia! Stop! Sit!”

She instantly let go of mauling his leg, sat and started panting.

Christ, Hutch could train a freaking dog.

Bubbles fell into a knee on the guy’s belly.

Riggs moved in.

They worked together to turn him, and since he wasn’t going to get anywhere on that leg for a while, Riggs just bound his hands behind his back.

Bubbles got off him, and Riggs didn’t care about his cries of pain when he dragged him to the woman.

He pulled out and clicked on his Maglite, and ordered Bubbles, “Put the lanterns down by the lake.”

Bubbles moved to do that.

He looked down at the two, aiming his light at them, first checking the damage to the guy’s leg to make sure he didn’t need to fashion a tourniquet or something.

Gia did a number on him, but it wasn’t that bad.

He moved his light to take them both in.

She, still on her stomach, turned her face away.

The man was more concerned about the pain in his mangled leg, so he was on his back, giving all of his attention to groaning and wincing.

But Riggs had occasion in his life living in Misted Pines, with all the lore, to remember with clarity the times he saw Roosevelt, Lincoln and Sarah Whitaker.

And there was no mistaking this asshole was one of theirs.

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