to finish this.
“Hold on,” Egan repeated to her.
Jordan lifted her head again so she could get a glimpse out the windshield, but the glass was so cracked and webbed that it was hard to see anything. She certainly couldn’t tell if the guy was about to hit them again.
But she did hear the squeal of his tires.
Not the other truck’s but Egan’s. Egan hit the brakes, and in the same motion, he turned the steering wheel, backing onto what appeared to be a ranch trail. It was gravel, and the rocks pelted the undercarriage. The sound was deafening, like being bombarded with bullets, but it wasn’t loud enough to drown out the other driver hitting his brakes, as well.
Now that they were both stopped, Jordan figured either Egan or she would have a shot. Of course, so would the driver of that truck. That was probably why Egan got his window down in a hurry. Before Jordan could even sit up, Egan got off two shots.
Jordan lowered her window, too, and she tried to steady her hand enough to take aim. She didn’t get a chance to do that, though.
“What the hell,” Egan mumbled.
The other truck’s door flew open. Not on the driver’s side, either. But the passenger’s. Maybe she’d been wrong about the shooter being the only person inside the vehicle.
And then something fell from that opened door.
It was too dark to tell exactly what it was, but Jordan thought maybe it was a person. If it was someone, Jordan figured he or she would get up and start shooting at Egan and her.
But that didn’t happen.
The driver of the other truck slammed on the accelerator, leaving the other person behind. Jordan braced herself for the truck to hit them again. It didn’t. The driver sped off, heading in the direction of town.
She could practically feel the debate Egan was having with himself as to what to do. He volleyed his attention between the person on the ground and the escaping driver of the other truck.
Egan finally snatched his phone up from the seat, pressed a number and immediately put the call on speaker. No doubt so he could free up his hands in case he needed to use his gun.
“John,” he said to the person who answered.
John Clary was one of the deputies who worked for Egan at the McCall Canyon Sheriff’s Office. Jordan had known him for years, and she knew he was a good lawman. He had almost certainly brought another deputy with him, too.
“You’ve got a dark blue truck headed your way,” Egan told the deputy. “It’s identical to mine, right down to the same license plate, but it’s not me. The driver is armed and dangerous. Stop him if you can.”
“Will do. Say, are you okay, boss?” John asked.
Egan paused. “I have Jordan Gentry with me.”
John obviously knew something had to be seriously wrong for her to be with Egan. And it was. That person on the road wasn’t moving. That didn’t mean he or she wasn’t still dangerous, though. This could be a ploy to get Egan and her out in the open so the person could gun them down.
“Just get to the truck,” Egan added to John a moment later. “I don’t want whoever’s inside escaping.”
Neither did Jordan, but there were several ways the shooter could manage to do just that. She’d grown up in McCall Canyon and knew there were plenty of ranch trails between here and town. He could turn onto one of those and hide. Plus, there was even another farm road along the route. If he or she managed to get there ahead of the deputy, then it was just a short drive to the interstate. It would be hard to track him after that because she was betting he would switch out those fake plates.
Part of her didn’t mind having some distance between the attacker and her. Especially since Jordan wasn’t in much shape to put up a fight. Her shoulder was still bleeding, and her head was throbbing. But she also knew if they didn’t catch him now, that he would likely come after her again.
“No matter what happens, I want you to stay put,” Egan warned her a split second before he eased the truck out from the trail and back onto the road. “And keep an eye out in case our friend returns to shoot at us again.”
Jordan was already doing that, but she was also making glances at the person who was still lying on the road. Egan pulled closer, but it was still hard to tell much because he or she was wrapped in a blanket. Of course, the cover could be concealing a weapon.
Had Drew or his brother managed to send would-be killers after them? If so, this could be a hired gun. That was probably why Egan hadn’t wanted her out of the truck. But obviously he wasn’t going to take that same precaution himself.
He put on his emergency flashers, the red lights knifing through the darkness, and he pulled to a stop directly next to the person. Jordan moved closer to him so she could provide some backup if this turned into a shootout, but there wasn’t much she could do to keep him out of the line of fire.
Egan stepped out.
He immediately maneuvered himself so that he was in front of Jordan, protecting her. She knew it wasn’t personal, though. Egan was a lawman through and through, and he would now see her as part of the job.
Even if it wasn’t a job that he especially wanted.
Jordan moved again, too, so that she could keep watch around them and still see from over his shoulder. With his gun ready, Egan walked closer. There was still no movement, so he used the toe of his boot to nudge the person.
“Is it a dummy?” Jordan asked.
Egan nudged it again and shook his head. “There’s blood.”
Sweet heaven. That gave Jordan another jolt of adrenaline—along with a really bad thought. Both Egan and she had fired shots into the truck. And they’d done that before the person had been dumped on the road.
Had she shot him or her?
Or had Egan done it?
Jordan forced herself to remember that this could have been the shooter who’d been trying to kill them. He or she might have deserved to die. But like Shanna, the person could have been innocent in all of this, too.
Her lungs started to ache, and that was when she realized she was holding her breath. Her chest muscles were too tight. As if they were squeezing the life out of her. Jordan refused to give in to the memories and the panic. None of that would help Egan right now.
She heard Egan gut out some profanity under his breath as he reached for the blanket. He didn’t yank it but rather gave it a gentle tug, touching it only with his fingertips.
The way a cop would touch evidence he didn’t want contaminated.
And Jordan soon realized why Egan had done that. The moment he pulled back the blanket, she saw the face of the person who was wrapped inside it.
It was a woman.
And she was dead.
Egan couldn’t push away the sickening feeling of dread. A woman was dead. And he might have been the one to kill her.
“There was no ID on the body,” Egan heard Court say from the other end of the line. “We’ll try to match her prints so we can figure out who she is.”
His brother was at the crime scene with the medical examiner and the CSI team so Court would make sure that everything was done as fast as it could be. Egan had wanted to be there, too, but he also had to make sure Jordan got to the hospital.
And that she was safe.
Ironic, since just an hour ago he hadn’t believed she was truly in danger. Well, he sure as heck believed it