Page 18 of Ghost

“Is this you, Jericho?” Rayasked as he brushed away the vines and dirt. “What secrets areburied with you? What have we here?” Instead of the headstone beingbrown like the other three in the man’s immediate family, Jericho’swas white granite. The dark Lithichrome shading used in theinscription was familiar to Ray, and it read: Allan Jericho Miles,SGT, US ARMY. KOREAN WAR Jan 1930 to Nov 1954. LovingSon.

“Well, shit. A serviceman.”There wasn’t any mention in his file about his time in themilitary. Ray knew the war had lasted from 1950 to 1953 and, aswith most wars, didn’t end well for most who served. The bloodyconflict had scared many and solved nothing.

Johnathan and Vera were Jericho’sparents, and according to his prior research, Susan was his babysister who’d died of tuberculosis when she was only one year old.This was another twist in the story.

Ray took pictures of all fourheadstones before standing and scanning the area to confirmhe

hadn’t missed anything. Satisfied he’dseen all there was to see, Ray turned and began walking

back to the truck. It was almostlunch, so Ray thought stopping at the diner on the way backto

the lake house might be okay if Ghostwas hungry.

He opened the driver’s door and wasabout to ask Ghost if he wanted to go to the diner

when he heard the first thud, a soundhe’d never forget. Ray threw himself across the benchseat,

thankful Ghost had removed hisseatbelt. He grabbed the passenger door handle, shoving them bothout of the truck and onto the ground on the vehicle’s passengerside. He covered Ghost with his body as the front windshieldexploded and glass rained down on them.

“What’s the hell’s goingon?” Ghost shouted. “Is that someone shooting at us?”

“Somebody’s using us fortarget practice. Can you reach your cell phone and call Brick tolet him know the situation?” Ray said grimly. “We needbackup.”

Pop, pop.

Two more rounds were fired, one takingout the driver’s headlight and the other hitting the ground roughlyfive feet from them. Ray pulled Ghost closer to the vehicle untilthey were almost underneath it, his body still protectivelycovering the smaller man. Ghost snapped his phone shut.

“Brick and the team are ontheir way,” Ghost said. His face was pale and tense.

Another bullet hit the driver’sfender.

“Elias is going to bepissed about his truck being turned into Swiss cheese,” Ghosthuffed, causing Ray to chuckle.

“We’re being shot at, andyou’re worried about how Elias will respond? Are you always thiscool under pressure?”

“No, but I know neither ofus is destined to die here,” Ghost said, but before Ray could askany further questions, he heard sirens in the distance.

Elias must have called in hisdeputies, because it seemed one was close enough to make it totheir location quickly. The shooting had stopped, and Ray wasfairly confident that whoever it was heard the sirens and took off,but he still wasn’t willing to move off Ghost.

The sirens were louder now, and whenhe looked up, two cruisers were racing down the road in theirdirection. The cavalry had arrived, and now all that was left wasfiguring out who the hell wanted them dead.

***

Ghost

The morning had ended on a much gravernote than what had transpired in the barn only hours earlier, andGhost wanted to return to that moment instead of sitting hererolling through his mental Rolodex of people who wanted him dead.Unbelievably, someone had decided to take potshots at him and Ray,but which one of them was the actual target?

Okay, it’s most likelyme.

Ghost wasn’t naive; he was a movingtarget, kill or capture according to the Noah Group’s agenda; hislife was fodder for movie plots. However, it was his reality, hiseveryday existence, even though he might have fooled himself intothinking he was safe for a time.

Ray, on the other hand, had beenexceptionally quiet during their drive back to the lake house, andGhost doubted it was only due to the gunfire that had taken place.The guy was a retired Marine and currently a detective in Seattle,so being shot at wasn’t exactly a new experience. Still, somethingwas wrong.

“You going to spit it out,or will you make me dig?” Ghost asked.

Ray looked over from the driver’sseat, not bothering to hide his scowl, and Ghost wanted more thanever to see that mischievous grin he’d seen back in thebarn.

“Surprise, I’m pissed,” hegrowled. “Someone used us for target practice.”

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