Page 57 of Lone Star Country Protector
“Back away or I’ll shoot,” Hoodie demanded as his gaze searched for his cell.
Hands up, both Jules and Blakely took a couple of steps back.
“Find my cell and give it back to me,” he ordered. “Or I’ll blow his head off.”
“Are you sure you want to do that?” Jules asked, calm as anyone pleased. “Because that man is a US marshal. You’ll do hard time.”
“They won’t catch me again,” the man quipped. Had he altered his appearance with surgery? Removed his fingerprints?
There were ways for career criminals to erase the ability to match them in a database using biometrics.
“Stand up,” Hoodie said to Dalton. “Now.”
Dalton did as ordered, once again waiting for the right moment to strike. He’d taken a calculated risk by attacking Hoodie. Dalton had needed the element of surprise in order to stop him from tapping the screen and blowing up Jules and Blakely.
He hadn’t anticipated the man recovering so quickly. Or being able to access his gun so quickly. But the risk had paid off. Jules and Blakely were safely out of the vehicle, and nothing had blown up.
“I think I see your phone,” Jules said. “I’m going to walk over and pick it up.”
“Walk slow,” Hoodie demanded.
“Okay,” she said. “You can watch me as I go.” She took a few steps away from them then bent down. “It’s underneath this vehicle. Okay? I’m going to crawl on all fours so I can retrieve it. Are we still good?”
“Yes,” he said. “But do anything that makes me nervous, and I’ll blow his head off.”
“I got it,” Jules said calmly before doing exactly what she’d said. “Bad news.” She backed up and then sat on her heels. “Phone’s shattered.”
Hoodie cursed as she held up the screen so he could verify what she said was fact.
“Put your hands on the vehicle where I can see ’em,” he demanded.
Jules stood up and did as he said.
Hoodie looked at Blakely next. “You do the same thing on the car next to her.”
Blakely held her hands high in the air where he could see them.
The sound of sirens wailed in the distance.
The next thing Dalton knew, he felt a blow and then nothing.
* * *
By the timehe came to again, he was in a hospital room, and his head felt like it had been split in two with an axe.
“He didn’t act alone,” Jules said as Blakely squeezed his hand. The women stood on opposite sides of the bed. Blakely pulled up a chair while Jules paced in front of the window.
“Do you mind doing that over there?” He pointed to the back wall.
“Oh,” Jules said, realizing she was making herself an easy target. “Yes. Good point.”
“What happened to him?” he asked Blakely.
She shook her head. “He’s gone.”
“How did it happen?” he continued, realizing he probably didn’t want to know but couldn’t help himself.
“The gun he pointed at you convinced us to stay put and count to ten slowly,” she explained. “It gave him the head start he needed to disappear.”
