Page 59 of Lone Star Wanted
Bullets continued to slam around them, churning up dirt and grass, forcing Cassidy and Kincade tighter behind their meager cover.
In between the nearly deafening blasts, she heard Kincade’s phone buzz. Keeping low, he quickly glanced at the screen.
“It’s Jericho,” he muttered. “He has eyes on the shooter, but he can’t make an ID. The guy’s dressed all in black, ski mask and everything.”
Cassidy clenched her teeth. “Another hired thug, then. Just like Greer and Knox.”
“Looks like.” Kincade typed out a quick reply, paused, then whispered, “Jericho’s asking if we want him dead or alive.”
Cassidy met his eyes. Every instinct in her wanted the shooter neutralized, permanently. But they needed answers. “Alive, if he can manage it.”
Kincade nodded, thumbs rapidly tapping out another message. A second later, he exhaled sharply. “Jericho says he’ll deal with this—with his slingshot.”
She’d heard of Jericho’s famous slingshot skills. Rumor had it he’d once taken down a fleeing suspect from forty yards, aprecise hit to the temple that left the guy out cold without firing a single shot. Right now, Cassidy desperately hoped Jericho lived up to his reputation.
“Tell him to do it,” Cassidy urged.
Kincade tapped his phone once more, then gave her a tight nod. “It’s done.”
Seconds later, a sharp cry of pain echoed across the cemetery, and the gunfire abruptly ceased. Cassidy immediately edged out, weapon aimed and ready. From the cluster of trees, a figure staggered into view, clawing at the ski mask. Cassidy’s breath froze in her chest.
It was Marlene.
Blood seeped down the side of her face, stark red against her pale skin. Cassidy watched in disbelief as Marlene quickly regained her footing, ducking behind another tree. Then another bullet whipped past, dangerously close, forcing Cassidy back down behind cover.
“Damn it,” she muttered, heart pounding furiously.
Kincade’s jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing to slits. “Jericho didn’t hit her hard enough.”
Cassidy stared at the spot where Marlene had vanished. She had known the deputy had secrets, but she’d never expected anything like this. Marlene had worked alongside her for years, but right now Cassidy knew she couldn’t hesitate.
Marlene was trying to kill them.
Kincade’s phone buzzed with another text from Jericho, and he turned the screen toward her so she could see it.
Shifting position. Will try again.
Cassidy leaned out slightly, trying to pinpoint Marlene’s location, but the woman had chosen her cover carefully. No clear shot. She ground her teeth, the frustration burning through her.
“Marlene?” Cassidy shouted, trying to keep her voice calm. “Stop shooting. You don’t have to do this.” Silenceanswered her. Cassidy waited a beat, her pulse pounding. “If this is about your mother, maybe we can help.”
Another silence. Then Marlene’s voice came back, sharp and ragged. “You can’t help me. You don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into.”
“Then tell me,” Cassidy called back. “Put the gun down and talk to us. This isn’t going to end well.”
“I’m sorry,” Marlene said, voice trembling slightly. “It’s already too late for that.”
Cassidy tightened her grip on her weapon, every muscle tense. Marlene’s desperation was obvious, and desperation made people dangerous.
“Alisha ruined everything,” Marlene sobbed out. “She saw me with Daniel that night. She ran off, but I knew she wouldn’t keep her mouth shut.”
Cassidy’s pulse thundered in her ears, her chest aching. “You and Daniel were involved?” she managed to ask.
“Yes.” Marlene’s voice shook, edged with resentment. “Alisha saw us. Daniel panicked because he was married, had ambitions. He couldn’t let her ruin him.”
The raw grief surged through Cassidy. Her cousin had died simply because she’d witnessed an affair, because Daniel had ambitions and secrets he refused to lose.
Cassidy felt Kincade’s hand brush against her arm. And she saw the sympathy and grief in his own eyes. It helped. But there was no fix for this. They couldn’t undo what had been done to a girl who just happened to witness something she shouldn’t have.
