Page 62 of Lone Star Wanted
Kincade spotted a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye and turned just enough to see Jericho crouched low behind a cluster of headstones. Jericho caught his gaze and gave a quick motion with two fingers before pointing around the far edge of the cemetery.
He was going to try and flank the bastard.
Kincade gave the barest nod. He couldn’t move without drawing fire. He was pinned down with nothing but half a broken stone marker shielding him. But Jericho might be able to get to the gunman and put a stop to this.
Jericho had barely had time to duck out of sight when the shots stopped. Just stopped.
Kincade’s pulse kicked harder in his ears. Was the shooter reloading? Or backing off? If he’s running, maybe Jericho could intercept him. To keep the shooter’s attention away from Jericho, Kincade raised his voice.
“Marlene,” he shouted. “You said Alisha ruined everything. Talk to me. Tell me how she ruined things.”
Silence pressed down on the graveyard. No more gunfire. No movement.
He held his breath, hoping she would answer. Hoping Jericho could make it to the shooter without being detected.
Kincade stayed low, the gravel biting into his palms as he braced himself behind the headstone. And he continued to wait for Marlene to respond. Just when he had given up hope, when he’d thought that she had passed out from her gunshot, she finally spoke.
Marlene’s voice came, ragged and thick with pain. “Alisha was going to tell Daniel’s wife,” she said. “Said he didn’t deserve her. Alisha adored that woman. Babysat for her kids. Looked up to her.”
Kincade listened, the pieces shifting fast in his mind. Marlene’s breaths were sharp and strained. He didn’t know how much time she had left, but he needed those answers from her.
“When Alisha saw me and Daniel, she said it was wrong,” Marlene added. “That she was going to tell his wife the next day.”
Kincade swallowed hard. His gut twisted.
“That’s why she was killed,” he said loud enough for his voice to carry. He continued to keep watch, too, in case the shooter was trying to sneak up on Travis, Cassidy or him. “Because she threatened to expose him.”
Marlene didn’t reply, but her silence said enough.
All this time, they’d been chasing shadows. A young girl murdered not because of what she did, but because of what she knew. Because she refused to stay silent. And someone had made damn sure she never got the chance to speak.
Kincade shifted, rising just enough to peer over the edge of the gravestone. “Who killed her, Marlene?” he called out. “Was it Daniel? Or was it you?”
There was a pause, broken only by the soft rasp of Marlene’s breathing. Then a hoarse sob tore from her throat.
“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” she choked. “I swear—”
The rest of her words were cut off by a sudden burst of gunfire with the bullets cracking against stone and dirt. Not random. Not warning shots. These were precise. Intentional.
Kincade twisted to track the direction, heart slamming against his ribs. The shooter wasn’t retreating. He was advancing. And he was moving straight toward Marlene.
“Damn it,” Kincade muttered, raising his weapon. The bastard was coming to finish what he started.
Kincade didn’t have to like Marlene to know he couldn’t let her be executed. Not like this. Not in cold blood.
“Jericho!” he shouted, his voice carrying over the chaos of those gunshots. “I’m moving!”
He hoped to hell that Jericho heard him. Friendly fire was the last thing they needed.
Kincade pushed off the ground and sprinted low to the next headstone, heart pounding, boots digging into the soft grass. Bullets cracked against the stone just as he dropped behind it, too close for comfort.
Marlene screamed again, a ragged, panicked sound that twisted in his gut. She was trying to crawl away, her hand dragging through the dirt as she pulled herself behind a narrow slab of granite. It wouldn’t protect her. Not for long.
Another shot rang out, then another. The shooter was closing in. Kincade moved again, harder this time, pushing toward the tree line. If he could flank the shooter, if he could just get a clean shot—
He landed hard behind another stone, gravel scraping his elbow. The next burst of gunfire was even closer.
Too close.
