was carrying in the truck. Jordan would almost certainly be able to hear him. But that wasn’t what Egan said because he didn’t want this guy clamming up.
“She can’t hear us,” Egan lied.
“Good. Because I don’t want to alienate her. Jordan needs friends right now. The right friends.”
Again, judging from the tone, Christian didn’t think Egan fell into that category. “Did someone really break into her house and try to kill her?” Egan pressed.
“Yes, but Jordan has this notion—no, it’s an obsession now—with connecting anything that’s happening to her friend’s murder. Did she tell you that she thinks someone is killing organ recipients?”
“She mentioned it.”
“Well, I don’t think it’s true,” Christian concluded. “I think Jordan’s feeling so overwhelmed with guilt from her friend’s death that she’s seeing bogeymen who just aren’t there.”
Jordan’s eyes narrowed, and she looked ready to snatch the phone from him, but Egan waved her off.
“You’ve investigated the two deaths?” Egan asked Christian.
“Yes, and I’m just not seeing what Jordan’s seeing. One of the victims was mangled and burned so bad in a car accident that it was hard to tell if she had missing organs or not. The other was dumped in the woods, and animals had ravaged the body.”
As gruesome as that was, Egan actually felt some relief. Maybe this wasn’t connected to Shanna after all. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking on his part. It sickened him, though, to think that Jordan might be right, that Drew did indeed want any living part of Shanna dead.
“Look, just tell her to come home, and I’ll talk this out with her,” Christian continued. “Or better yet, tell me where she is, and I’ll come and get her. I care for her. A lot. I want to make sure she gets the help she needs.”
This time, Jordan did grab the phone, and she hit the end-call button. She opened her mouth, no doubt to try to convince him that she wasn’t “obsessed” as Christian had claimed. But the approaching headlights stopped her.
The vehicle wasn’t coming from town but rather from the direction of the ranch. If it was Court or one of the hands, they would stop when they spotted his truck, and Egan would have to explain why Jordan was with him.
Too bad he wasn’t sure of the answer himself.
As the headlights got closer, Egan felt his chest tighten. That was because it was a blue truck. Identical to his. And there wasn’t another vehicle like it on the ranch. Plus, this vehicle had the same license plate number. Since Egan’s plate was legit, this one had to be a fake.
“It’s him.” Jordan reached for his jeans. No doubt to try to get to her gun. But it was too late.
The bullet crashed through the windshield of Egan’s truck.
Jordan’s breath froze. No, please, no. This couldn’t be happening again.
She heard the hoarse sob tear from her throat, and she took hold of her gun that was in the back waistband of Egan’s jeans. She managed to get it, but Egan immediately pushed her down onto the seat. Good thing, too.
Because the next bullet slammed into the seat right where Jordan had been sitting.
If Egan hadn’t moved her at that exact moment, she’d be dead. She still might be, and this time the shooter might kill Egan right along with her.
“Hold on,” Egan warned her. Keeping low, he started his truck, threw it into Reverse and jammed his foot on the accelerator.
The sudden jolt of motion knocked Jordan against the seat. Hard. Her head hit, too, and the pain jolted through her. Still, feeling the awful pain was better than being shot again, but they weren’t out of the woods yet.
A third bullet smacked into the windshield, and she could have sworn it missed Egan by less than an inch. The bullet went into the headrest next to where he was hunched down.
Jordan lifted her head to get a better look at the vehicle. It was the same truck, all right. And the person inside obviously wanted to have another go at killing her. The guy had the driver’s-side window down, and he had a gun sticking out.
“I can’t see his face,” Jordan said. Because there was a dark tint on the windows. It didn’t help, either, that the driver had on the high beams, and they were shining right in her eyes.
“Don’t make it easy for him to shoot you,” Egan snarled. He shoved her back down, and he kept speeding down the road in Reverse.
Jordan wanted to remind him that she was a PI and former cop. She could return fire. However, at the moment that might not even be true. She was dizzy from the pain, and her hands were shaking. It was possible she couldn’t even hit the truck, much less the driver.
There was the sound of tires squealing against the asphalt, and Jordan knew what that meant. “He’s coming after us.”
Egan didn’t confirm that, but since the shots had stopped, it told her that the driver might be the sole person in the truck. If so, it was a gutsy move on his part to go after two armed and trained people. Then again, the guy did have them on the run, and that driver had a lot more control over his vehicle right now than Egan did. It was easier to drive forward than in Reverse, but there was no place for them to turn around on the narrow road.
“Call nine-one-one,” Egan ordered. “I want backup. But not the ambulance. Once we’re out of this, I’ll get you to the hospital.”
Seeing a doctor was the least of her concerns right now, and Jordan made the call for backup. The problem wouldn’t be getting someone out here because they weren’t that far from town. But Egan was literally taking up most of the road, and it would make it hard for the deputies to get in position to help them. Still, she wasn’t sure how much longer Egan could keep this up.
Jordan had just finished the call when she felt the jolt. The other truck had slammed into them. Hard. She heard the sound of metal scraping against metal. Unless the second truck had a reinforced bumper, he could be doing as much damage to his vehicle as he was to theirs.
Egan was still low in the seat, using the side mirror to navigate, but he had to adjust so he could better grip the steering wheel when the driver came at them again. If he hadn’t done that, they would have gone into the ditch. It hadn’t rained recently so it wasn’t filled with water, but they’d still probably get stuck. Then, they’d be sitting ducks for the shooter.
The memories came. They always did whenever Jordan had a gun in her hand. That wasn’t exactly an asset for a private investigator—to have the memories come at her so fast and strong that it put her on the verge of a panic attack. It was the reason she didn’t wear a badge any longer. It was also the reason her life, and her head, were a mess.
If Drew Paxton was behind this, then he was getting a good laugh right now. Not only was he trying to “kill” any living piece of Shanna, he might manage to take out the man Shanna had loved. Of course, Jordan felt as if she had already managed to “take out” Egan. Shanna’s death had crushed him.
And Jordan was responsible for that.
Drew had been aiming at Jordan to finish her off when he’d fired that deadly shot. But he hadn’t hit his target. Because Shanna had jumped in front of Jordan at the worst possible moment. And now Shanna was dead from a gunshot wound to the head, and Jordan was alive. Egan would never forgive her for that, and she’d never forgive herself.
The memories thankfully moved to the back of her mind when the truck crashed into them. Egan had to fight with the steering wheel again, and it didn’t help when the driver rammed into them a fourth time. He would