Page 90 of Near Miss

The late afternoon sun gave way to encroaching shadows of twilight. Landry’s home backed up to a woodland buffer. Lachlan scanned the exterior of the stately stone and stucco three-story. The security cameras they could get around. Motion lights, too, and it wasn’t dark enough yet to make night vision useful.

However, if the men waiting inside had thermal imaging devices, he and Nathan might as well walk up and ring the doorbell.

“I’ve got eyes on Burkette,” Nathan’s voice whispered through Lachlan’s earpiece. “First floor—northwest corner. No sign of Landry or Sophia.”

Light shone from a bank of windows on the second story. “I’m headed to the second floor, southeast corner.”

Jared would be waiting for him. “Wait for my signal.”

“Roger that—out.”

A stone-wrapped chimney ran up the side of the house. Lachlan raced to it in a low crouch. He holstered his gun, felt for anchor points, and scaled the chimney to the roof.

He crawled to the darkened window of a third-floor dormer. Separating the pane from the window frame with his tactical knife, he placed it carefully on the shingles before slipping into what looked to be Landry’s home gym.

Gun in hand, Lachlan moved with soundless steps down a set of stairs to the second floor. At the end of the hall, a warm glow leached from the bottom of a set of double doors.

He crept forward and flattened his ear to one panel. Inside, there was the murmur of a man’s voice, followed by a woman’s.

Sophia.

She was alive.

He swallowed hard, corralled his wayward emotions, and refocused.

They weren’t out of the woods yet. Landry would be armed. If Lachlan charged through the door, Sophia might get hit in the crossfire. His best option was to balls up knock and hope Jared assumed it was Burkette.

If he could catch Landry off guard, it might give him enough time to take the other man out without endangering Sophia. Nathan would neutralize Josh.

Decision made, he sent Nathan a pre-arranged series of clicks on the mic as a non-verbalgosignal.

Control. Training. Sophia’s life depended on it.

He lifted his knuckles and rapped on the door.

“Come in.”

Definitely Jared.

Lachlan lifted his weapon into position and gripped the doorknob. On an internal count of three, he burst through the door, his gaze and gun sweeping the room and stopping dead center.

Sophia sat in a chair.

Jared stood behind her, the 9mm in his grip too close to her head.

“Are ye all right,leannan?” Lachlan kept his gun pointed at the space between Jared’s brows.Steady.He’d get Sophia killed if he didn’t shut down his emotions.

The muzzle of Jared’s gun dug into Sophia’s temple. Fear, stark and raw, flooded her eyes.

Lachlan’s hands tightened around the pistol grip.

“Right on schedule.” A hint of triumph infiltrated Jared’s smooth cadence. “You should have stayed dead—it would have been better for Sophia.” His free hand caressed the side of her face, sliding down her neck and collarbone to graze her breast.

The bastard was trying to provoke him.

Lachlan let the air leave his lungs in a smooth flow, as he’d been trained to do in special forces selection.

To her credit, Sophia stayed composed, her gaze locked on him. He could sense the message in her eyes, and his chest tightened.Trust.

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