Page 244 of It Happened on the Lake

A long-barreled pistol that he rammed against the side of her head.

“I really hoped it wouldn’t come to this,” he said, his glasses catching the light from the security lamp at the end of the alley. “Shut the fuck up!”

Chapter 63

Levi sprinted to the edge of the alley.

Heart thudding, he saw the struggle.

No!

He raced forward.

Saw Dawn start to break free.

Her frantic scream echoed down the alley as the trash cans fell over with a loud crash.

“Hey!” he yelled, running and reaching into his jacket for his sidearm and coming up empty. His gun was tucked safely in the glove box of his car. But even without a weapon he was determined to save his daughter. “Stop!”

His voice was drowned by the clattering of trash cans.

The attacker caught her by the arm, pulled out a gun, and jammed it to her temple.

Oh. Jesus.

Levi stopped short, stunned. Afraid the assailant would shoot. He flattened himself against the side of the building and breathed deeply, trying to come up with a plan to end this madness.

Who would do this? Why? Not that it mattered at the moment. He couldn’t let it happen. He couldn’t let the daughter he’d just met be taken down by this monster.

As Dawn’s assailant forced her toward the end of the alley, Levi followed, staying in the shadows, using trash bins and piles of junk as his cover but silently closing the distance. The attacker’s attention was focused on Dawn, struggling, fighting despite the muzzle of the gun against her head.

Don’t, he silently warned. He couldn’t imagine watching his daughter die. Oh God, no!

He was accustomed to violent death, had seen it often enough in his line of work, but this was different. Gut-wrenching.

Ice-cold fear clenched his heart.

Moving stealthily, he glanced around his surroundings, trying vainly to come up with a weapon, something other than the element of surprise to gain an advantage.

He’d been in tight, dangerous situations before and lost those close to him.

Never again, he’d vowed when he left the government’s service.

And not now.

He wouldn’t lose his kid.

He’d save Dawn or die trying.

As he passed by the upturned trash can, he saw the glint of glass. A broken jar. He picked up the glittering piece, cutting himself as he did, but holding onto the shard just as he spied a small sharp rock near a fence post. He scooped it up in his free hand.

His weapons were rudimentary.

Useless against a gun.

But they were all he had.

Now it was his wits against those of the attacker.

---