The door rattled, but no one showed up. Jo cupped her hand on the window glass and peeked into the house. There was a family room full of furniture and a large fireplace, and a kitchen off to the right. Both empty. She glanced over her shoulder. The figures were quickly approaching. No time to try to break in. She grabbed Lydia’s good arm.
“Let’s go. We’ll find another neighbor.”
She pulled Lydia with her, sticking close to the back of the house. They slipped around the corner, the house giving them some protection from the moonlight. They hurried along as quietly as they could.
As they moved, Jo was thinking quickly. The houses in the neighborhood were far apart, which was a disadvantage right now. No one to hear what was going on. No one was out and about, either, no one to call to for help. She looked to the left. It would be a long run to the next-door neighbor, and another picket fence to climb over. Plenty of open space, where they would be exposed.
They reached the front of the house, and Jo peeked out. Moonlight glinted off the asphalt in the quiet street. Lydia breathed heavily, and she clutched her wrist in pain. At any moment, Jo expected Kline or JD to come around the side of the house. She quickly assessed her options.
They could go to the front of the house, but Kline would probably have JD run around the opposite side, cutting off access to the neighbors there. There was also no point in going to the front door, where they’d be trapped. She looked across the street. They’d be visible if they ran to that neighbor’s house, but she didn’t see any other options.
Jo heard something behind her, and she knew she had no more time to waste. She took Lydia’s good wrist again, and they rushed down a driveway and into the street. Lydia was dragging now, and her arm slipped from Jo’s grip. Their footsteps pounded the pavement as they reached the other side of the street.
We just might make it, Jo thought as they moved across the grass.
A distinctive sound rippled through the air, one Jo had heard many times when she’d been on missions. Lydia cried out with a small gasp. Jo whirled around to see her crumple to the ground.
Jo dropped beside her. Lydia was face down. Jo rolled her over. A dark spot pooled on her blouse, and she looked up.
“Don’t let . . . Don’t let him get away with it.” Then she slumped to the side.
Jo swore and looked over her shoulder. JD was standing in the yard across the street, a hand raised. She swung her gaze to the right and saw Kline. Both men started toward her.
She darted behind a large tree and headed toward the side of the closest house.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
JD raced across the yard and started into the street. Ha—he’d shot that damn driver.
“What the hell are you doing?” Kline hissed as he approached.
“We have to stop them.”
“I told you I’d take care of it.”
“Like you handled everything else?” JD said. “I got Jo. She won’t say anything now.”
Kline cursed like JD had never heard before as they both reached the sidewalk across the street.
“We need to get Lydia and get back to the house,” Kline whispered.
They were already into the yard, and they approached the body lying prone on the ground. As JD drew near, his elation vanished—he recognized the figure on the ground.
“Oh no!” he said. He dropped the Glock, horrified. “Lydia!”
Kline was saying something, but he didn’t hear it. He sank to his knees and stared at his wife’s body, and the dark spot on her shirt.
“Oh my God, I shot her.” He grabbed her and pulled her toward him. “No, Lydia. I’m so sorry.”
How could this happen? She was the love of his life. He didn’t want to harm her, he just needed her to understand what was going on. He had to stop Jo, and then he was sure he could make everything right with his wife.
JD rocked with her body. Why did she have to run? Didn’t she know he loved her? He’d protected her from his violent tendencies, the things he’d subjected the other women to. He couldn’t do those things with his wife.
He held her close and wept, not caring about anything else. His world was shattered.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
Several trees and thick bushes stood at the side of the house. Jo darted into the thicket, and as she moved forward, she heard Kline and JD behind her. When the voices stopped, she glanced back and saw a shadow near the corner of the house. She pressed herself into the ground. In the stillness, JD’s sobbing reached her.
Jo wanted to cry out as well. Lydia had been shot, and she hadn’t been able to protect her. She began to second-guess herself, wondering what she might’ve done differently. Should she have broken into that house, so they could hide? But the noise of breaking the sliding-glass doors or a window might’ve drawn gunfire from JD or Kline. And who was to say if she and Lydia had hidden somewhere that they wouldn’t have been discovered? Then she would’ve been leading Lydia into a trap. Like the one she was in now.
Where was Kline?
She didn’t move a muscle, her right cheek pressed into damp earth. The smell of the soil was pungent in her nostrils. Something buzzed over her head—a fly or mosquito—but she didn’t swat at it. She was alert, listening for Kline.
And thinking.
She had the advantage. Kline had to search for her. He couldn’t leave JD waiting with Lydia’s body forever. Someone would hear them soon enough. And although Kline had been military trained as well, she wondered if he was on the same level as her. How often had he had to track somebody in a dangerous situation, where any false move meant you were dead? She’d been in places where she’d had to hunker down for hours, where she couldn’t move. She wouldn’t move now, either.
Was he that good, or better?
Her ears strained. JD’s sobs stopped. What was he doing? She was tempted to turn her head, but she didn’t. She could see through the bottom part of the bushes to the grass. The bases of tree trunks dotted the terrain. A couple of feet ahead and to the left, she saw an opening between the bushes. She didn’t think anyone peering in could see her, but she couldn’t be sure.
She listened for the sounds of sirens. Maybe some neighbor had heard commotion outside and wondered what was going on, and they’d dialed 911. Her phone was in her pocket, but she didn’t dare move her arm to reach for it. Kline might shoot her. She continued to wait, hoping to hear sirens.
Only the stillness.
She looked toward the grass, surprised to see black shoes appear in her vision. Kline was moving forward, quickly but very stealthily. She hadn’t heard him, hadn’t even had an inkling he was approaching.
He was good.
The shoes stopped moving. Jo held her breath. He had to be looking around, and she prayed he wouldn’t see her hiding. Then a foot crept slowly forward. As it did, she moved as well, barely perceptible. Kline took another step, his footfall soft on the grass, which barely rustled. She used that small noise to her advantage and inched upward. Then she looked up. Through the branches, Kline was silhouetted in the moonlight. He held a gun, the long barrel signaling a suppressor. If he shot at her, no one would hear the noise.
He took another step forward.
She got into a crouch, the muscles in her legs like springs.
CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
Kline left JD with Lydia. He didn’t have time to focus on that. He had to take care of Jo now.
He darted to the corner of the house and peeked around. Tall trees and shrubs stood dark, and he didn’t see the woman. He listened, cursing his boss for making so much noise. Then he glanced back and signaled to JD, who put a hand to his mouth, muffling his cries. Kline looked forward.
He didn’t see Jo, but he didn’t think she could’ve gone far. No noise came from the back of the house, no sounds of Jo pounding on a door, no voices. She was probably unarmed, so there was only so much she could do against him. He took a few careful steps forward and listened, staring into the bushes, the shadows mocking him. He waited, listened, and watched.
Glancing to the backyard of the house, he didn’t see anything. He had to hurry. If she or anyone else had called for help, he had to take her out and clean up the mess before the police arrived. He moved quietly, faster than he wanted to. Even so, his footsteps barely stirred the grass.
His heart thudded a steady beat.
