McCarthy, Soloman, Reyes, Watson, Guzman, and Jim were behind the second ACP in their own huddle waiting for the go-ahead.
“This is a mistake,” Riddle muttered. “Two occupants and we only have eyes on one shooter.”
No sooner had the statement left Riddle’s mouth than a spray of bullets peppered the ACP. Thank fuck for the armor plating.
“It’s only by a miracle he hasn’t started taking out his neighbors’ houses,” Chip put in. “I don’t like going in blind any more than you do, Riddle. But this shit has to end before someone gets killed.”
“Alpha. Bravo.” The captain’s call cut off any further discussion. “In three, two, go.”
Chip and Riddle took off in a full sprint, Valentine on their heels, Gordy close to Valentine’s back, then I took up the rear. Gordy and I had our rifles up pointed at the window, covering the three men preceding us. Mereno hung back at the ACP with Reyes and they were returning fire as more bullets rang out.
I heard the glass shattering. In my peripheral Chip and Riddle were shuffling. To my far right, I saw Soloman raking out his window, Guzman and Watson holding shields.
Standard.
Textbook.
This whole scenario had been practiced a thousand times.
We all knew our places. We moved together as one.
But something was off. It felt different.
Dread hit my stomach and I scanned the yard, the windows, the front porch.
Nothing.
Everything went silent. No gunfire, no orders being called out, no loud hailer yelling to the suspect.
Calm.
Only my heartbeat and fast exhales.
Riddle was right. This felt wrong.
Valentine was through the window, Chip was almost through, and I scanned again.
Then the world around me exploded in a hail of bullets, grunts, and pain-filled shouts.
25
I was finishing up my third and final beer, watching Echo sink ball after ball, giving his brother no chance of winning. This was the second game Echo had won. And I was due to play the winner. It wasn’t that Phoenix sucked, Echo was just that good. Phoenix had only had his cue on the felt twice.
“You mentioned Shepard earlier,” Phoenix said from beside me. “Where’s Ethan at with that?”
“Guy fled Alabama. Stayed under the radar but yesterday the ex-wife called Ethan and swears she thought she saw Shepard.”
“She thinks?” Phoenix questioned.
“She hasn’t seen Shepard in ten years. She was at the grocery store and the guy was at the end of the aisle wearing a baseball hat. She said she didn’t get a good look but she was almost positive. Ethan’s trying to get the store’s surveillance footage but they want a warrant.”
“Have that guy who works for you hack the footage.”
My lips twitched and I chuckled.
“His name’s Dylan,” I told him. “Thought you cops frowned on breaking the law.”
“This cop frowns on a killer walking the streets.”
“I hear that. We’re working on getting Ethan what he needs. But we’re doing it in a way where his case won’t get thrown out when the defense gets their hands on the evidence.”
Dylan was being extra careful not to fuck Ethan’s case.
Ethan had gone back to question the ex-wife and she confirmed the last time Shepard saw his daughter was the visit before Becca Harper’s murder.
“Eight ball, side pocket,” Echo called and missed.
My gaze went from the table to what had distracted Echo from his shot.
His eyes were fixed on the television playing in the corner. I stepped forward and turned to get a better view and my insides turned to stone.
Three SWAT officers shot in the line of duty. Scrolled at the bottom of the screen.
I didn’t give any attention to what was playing on the TV and read the banner at the bottom one more time to verify I was reading that correctly.
Then I yanked my wallet out of my pocket and snatched out some bills. Not caring about the denomination, I tossed them on the table. Shoved my wallet back and pulled out my phone. I was tapping the screen to get to Shiloh’s number while I was running through the bar.
Echo and Phoenix were right behind me.
The call connected when I hit the parking lot. It rang and went to voice mail.
Fuck.
I got to my truck and beeped the locks, hitting Shiloh’s number again.
It was ringing when I heard Echo’s voice boom from behind me.
“Where’d they take them?”
I got voice mail again, hit disconnect, and Echo was opening the passenger door of my truck.
“General,” he barked.
Phoenix climbed in the back seat, doors slammed, and I tore out of the parking lot.
“Any report on who was hit?”
That was Phoenix. I assumed he was on the phone or talking to Echo. Either way, I was waiting for the answer.
“Fuck,” Phoenix clipped. “Right. On our way.”
My gut tightened and my chest burned.
“No word,” he announced from behind me. “Three hit. One critical.”
Adrenaline flooded and my ears roared.
One critical.
One fucking critical.
Please don’t be Shiloh.
Silence filled the cab and maybe I should’ve said something to my woman’s brothers. They were feeling this just like I was. Different but the same. They loved their baby sister. They couldn’t lose her. Same as me. But radically different. I couldn’t lose her, couldn’t bear to think about life without her.
I just found her. We hadn’t had enough time.
One critical.
Jesus fuck.
What felt like an eternity later I swung into the parking lot of General, pulled into the first spot I found, cut the engine, and was out of my truck sprinting to the emergency entrance.
The next several minutes were a blur. Thank God, Echo and Phoenix were with me. A flash of a badge got information a lot faster than what I could’ve done. I followed Echo up the stairs to the third floor. Echo crashed through the door and I narrowly missed the heavy door swinging back and slamming into me. I held it for Phoenix and the three of us were waylaid by a crush of officers filling the third-floor lobby and hallway.
I scanned through the crowd and each face my eyes landed on that was not Shiloh felt like a kick in the balls. She wasn’t there.
“Echo! Phoenix!” a voice shouted from across the room.
My gaze went to the uniformed cop waving the Kent brothers over. The man’s face was grim, his eyes hard and glittery.
Fucking. Shit.
I followed close behind Echo, Phoenix dragging behind me.
Fuck. I should say something to Shiloh’s youngest brother. But I couldn’t find the words to reassure him when my insides were shriveled and my blood was boiling.
“Down the hall.” The cop pointed but gave no further information.
“Jesus Christ, find someone who fucking knows something,” I complained and ran after Echo.
We were halfway down the hall when Gordy stepped out of the waiting room. He looked pained. Not physically but emotionally. And there was blood dotting his arms.
Christ.
“Gordy!” I yelled and the man’s gaze came up and landed on mine.
I skidded to a halt in front of Shiloh’s teammate and he gave me nothing.