“Edwardo, I swear,” the second man said. “Romeo’s a liar. I been with you six months. I ain’t no snitch.”
From where she crouched, Holly could see them perfectly. A middle-aged Hispanic man held a gun on a scruffy, bearded white guy. She cursed herself for letting her phone die. Not as though she could make a call right now anyway.
The gunman pulled out his phone. “Explain this then.” He tapped a button, and a voice recording started.
“No, they don’t suspect anything. Edwardo admitted to killing Lambert. I just gotta get proof and figure out when and where the next shipment is coming in. Then we’ll bring the whole thing down.”
“Cruz. Come on. That ain’t me, bro.” As he said it, he made a move to disarm the gunman.
The two men struggled for a minute before the bad guy got in a good enough poke to disorient the undercover policeman. Based on the recording, Holly assumed that’s what the man was. Should she jump in and help him?
Before she could make a decision, Edwardo raised the gun and shot twice. The policeman grabbed his chest and staggered back before falling to the ground.
Holly gasped and then slapped a hand over her mouth, realizing what she’d done.
“Who’s there?” Edwardo demanded, coming toward the bush where Holly hid.
She had no choice but to run or be caught. There was no way he wouldn’t see her if he got any closer. Without a second thought, she stood and sprinted.
“What the…?” Edwardo said before giving chase.
Holly was tall and used her long legs to put some distance between them. She dashed off the path and into the trees, running as quickly and quietly as she could. The man behind her huffed, puffed, and crashed through the brush like a buck during rutting season. She was outrunning him, fear and adrenaline stoking her energy, but couldn’t go on forever and still had no idea where she was going.
Up ahead, she spotted a tree with a low branch. It was the kind with big knobby bumps on the trunk. The kind that were easy to climb. She chanced a quick glance back and didn’t see Edwardo. Holding her breath and throwing up a prayer, she jumped onto the trunk and used the bumps to scamper up to the lowest branch. Then stood and climbed even higher into the cover of the tree’s leaves. Something twitched in her ankle, sending a jolt of pain up her leg, but she kept going.
As soon as she heard Edwardo approaching, she froze and pinched her lips together. Her ankle hurt like the dickens, but she stayed quiet. If he found her up here, there was no escape.
She watched from above as he turned in circles, cursing to himself. “Where the hell did she go?” he muttered.
He whipped out his phone. “Get your asses down here now.” Then, after a pause, “Yeah, he was dirty. I offed him, but some chick saw me. We need to hunt her down and shut her up. Meetme at the spot. We’ll fan out from there.” He hung up, took one last glance around, and headed back the way they’d come.
Find her and shut her up?She didn’t think her heart could beat any harder, but it sped up anyway.Holy crap!
When she thought he was out of earshot, she exhaled, still careful not to utter a peep. She didn’t trust that he wasn’t hiding nearby, waiting for her to reveal herself. Her ankle throbbed, her eyes stung, and her hands were raw from scratches, but she continued to climb. With her ankle hurt, she couldn’t make it down. And even if she managed, she couldn’t risk running into Edwardo or one of his gang members. On top of all that, she was still lost.
She’d been hurt before. Played through many an injury. And as a park ranger, she’d camped and slept in the woods countless times. Spending the night in this tree would be a change, but she could handle it.
Once she found a big enough branch, she straddled it, laid back, caught her breath, and took stock. Her ankle swelled, her stomach growled, and her heart hurt for the officer who’d been killed. But there was nothing she could do about any of that. She tried to remember what the late-June overnight forecast was, but that too, was out of her control. It might get chilly, but at least the tree canopy would protect her if it rained. It would be uncomfortable, but she’d live.
Tears welled and eventually spilled over. She’d witnessed a murder. As much as she wanted to go back and try to help the man who’d been shot, she knew it would be pointless. He’d taken two bullets to the chest. There was no way to survive that.
After regaining her wits, it dawned on her the police would want to talk to her. She should write down all she witnessed while the details were still fresh. With that thought came therealization that she’d lost her purse—either dropped it when she ran or left it in the hiding spot. That couldn’t be good.
Okay. She’d just commit everything to memory. Edwardo Cruz killed someone named Lambert and is involved in a “shipment” of something. “Edwardo Cruz. Edwardo Cruz,” she repeated over and over. Who was she kidding? The name was burned into her brain. After what she saw, she’d remember it as long as she lived.
Because it was Sunday, the odds of anyone finding her before morning were slim. She blocked out the pain, hunger, and heartache, got comfortable, and resigned herself to a sleepless night in the tree.
CHAPTER FIVE
Cole’s phone rang, waking him from a deep sleep. He cracked one eye open and checked caller ID—a department number.
“Robinson,” he grumbled.
“Hey, man. It’s Flanigan.”
“Dude. LT must not have told you. I gotta take a bunch of PTO, so I’m gonna ride along during the week instead of on my weekend.”
“He told me,” Flanigan said. “But I thought you might want in on this one.”