Page 76 of Every Which Way

The bullet slammed into Mrs. Hadley as she turned, embedding in her upper arm. She fell, or dove, toward the window. Kenna’s next two bullets shattered the window. Mrs. Hadley ended up on the outside in a deafening explosion of glass. Kenna glanced at Stairns. “You good?” And ran to the window.

He groaned. “She’s vicious. You should catch her.”

Kenna looked outside to where Mrs. Hadley was up and running across the grass. “How about Bruce? He could use the steps.” She breathed hard, pulled her phone out, and keyed up the walkie-talkie app. “She’s coming to you.”

“Copy that. Circling back.”

Kenna frowned. “Whatever that means.” She went over and helped Stairns up, though he didn’t tug on her arm, so it wasn’t really a case of her helping him. But she made the gesture anyway.

“She nicked my arm.” He held the outside of his elbow.

“We need something to wrap it.”

“I’ll do that. You go after her.”

“The cops will be on their way. Hadley is dead in the other room. Grab a towel and get out. And watch for the twin or you’ll get a repeat of that.” She motioned to the opening, then went over and climbed out of the big bay window, which was covered in glass. It embedded in the rubber soles of her shoes as she crunched over it, onto the grass.

Kenna jogged after Mrs. Hadley, trying to figure out what had just happened. Maizie had enough things to do, so asking her to find out if the chief’s wife had a sibling would only slow her down. Or make things take longer. Maybe Ramon could look it up. Or they could contact somebody in the resistance. Given what happened here, she couldn’t help thinking the chief’s wife was an asset—like Preston’s wife—placed with him to keep an eye out. Or to keep him in line.

In the end, whether there was one or two of them, it would be more important to confirm they did work for the “company” she was fighting against. If she was going to have even a slim chance of finding them and stopping what was happening here, then she had to catch the woman. And this time, she wouldn’t be turning her over to the police.

Kenna jogged across the lawn in the same direction she’d seen the woman run.

Behind the house was a fence, and beyond that, she knew there was a road with a golf course on the opposite side. A wide open space where it wouldn’t be so easy for her to hide.

She checked bushes and trees and shadowy corners back here for someone waiting to pop out and tackle her, but nothing moved. Kenna climbed up on the cable box, tucked behind a bush so the unsightly thing wasn’t visible in the yard. She grabbed the top of the fence and spotted Mrs. Hadley.

Kenna clambered over, landing on both feet and bending her knees. She raced after the woman. Bruce was coming from the other direction down the street. That put their target in between them.

She would have nowhere to go but over the golf course, and eventually, they’d catch up to her.

A car turned the corner of the street about a quarter mile back behind Bruce. Kenna lifted her gun just in case the woman tried to commandeer it.

Bruce kept running, his focus on the woman.

“Car!” Kenna yelled.

The vehicle swerved around him, and Kenna spotted a female driver with dark hair. Bruce lowered a backpack from his shoulders, slowing his stride. The car pulled up on the street beside the woman, and she saw the driver yell to her. As if she was here to rescue the woman.

Kenna stopped, planted her feet, and squared her aim on the windshield. But she couldn’t pull the trigger. Not if she didn’t want to hurt the driver. She would certainly shoot Mrs. Hadley if she did anything to the driver. Then, the driver’s face came into focus—Amara.

Amara hit the gas, driving toward Kenna.

Bruce lifted a weapon, wide in the barrel. No bigger than a compact submachine gun. What on earth was he…

Bruce aimed at the rear tire and fired. The projectile hit the wheel and launched the back end of the car up but didn’t flip it. Amara fought the swerve, but the car was out of control. She bumped the curb at the golf course, went over the sidewalk, down the berm, and toward a sand trap that was probably there to keep balls from going into the street.

The car came to a stop with the front wheels still spinning.

She keyed her phone and contacted Stairns. “We need the car around back.”

He responded, “On my way.”

Bruce jogged over. “You hear sirens? I told Langford. She probably sent a car.”

She could make out the tones in the distance. “Hadley is dead.” She opened the driver’s side door. “Bruce, get the other woman. Don’t let her escape.”

Kenna bent to look at Amara. The airbag had deployed, so she holstered her gun, found a knife in her pocket, and deflated it. “Time to go, Mom.”

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