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“And you have to know this right now?”
“You answered about your mother right away. But you didn’t say much about your daddy. The one who’s in prison.”
Her skin paled. “Because you know about that. And you probably know about Dallas, too.”
He wouldn’t lie. “I was about to do some digging when Armond stepped back into my life. Now here we are.”
“I don’t want to talk about Dallas,” she said, dropping her spoon. “Let’s get on with our plans. I have to brief my supervisor.”
So Dallas was a sore spot. He’d find out, one way or another. He’d be more discreet next time he brought up the subject. “Let’s get going, then,” he said.
He turned to gather their empty plates to take inside. He’d made it to the screen and held it open, waiting for Josie to cross the big porch, when the first shots came whizzing through the air. One of the shots hit a plate he held and shattered it.
And the next one hit the table where Josie had been sitting. But he didn’t see her anywhere.
NINE
Josie’s side hitched as she slid onto the deck of the boathouse and plunged through the screened door. Her gun. She’d left it in the bedroom. Scooting on her knees, she grabbed her weapon and unlocked the safety, then checked the ammo. Then she slid to the window and stared out into the growing dusk.
Connor? She didn’t know where he’d gone. When she’d heard the first shot, she’d gone into automatic mode and had ripped through a side door off the porch, bullets blasting all around her. Then she’d followed the cypress trees toward the boathouse, glad for the draping moss that served as a cover in the shadows.
Now she had to get back out there and protect Connor. When she heard several more shots echoing through the thicket of cypress trees, she did a visual of her surroundings, but in the dimming light, she couldn’t tell which shapes were human and which were nature.
Josie inhaled a deep, calming breath, the sound of bullets hitting across the way forcing her to stay down.
Then everything went silent. The whole place had gone eerily quiet. Even the trees didn’t move.
A creaking groan hit the deck of the boathouse. Josie sucked in a breath and held herself still, her back against the rocking wall. Holding her gun out, she steadied her finger on the trigger, ready to shoot.
Footsteps dragged through the boathouse, slow and quiet. The swamp became deadly silent. Not a bird chirping, no splashes in the water. No music in the dance hall. No more shots deep in the woods. Silent, still, holding its breath.
In the same way she was holding hers.
Where was Connor?
Her heart pounded so loudly, she was sure someone out there was listening and following the beat. She was trapped in this stifling little room. All she could do was wait and hope that everyone was safe. That Connor was safe.
But she wouldn’t go down without a fight. She held her gun steady and remembered her training.
The partially closed door creaked in protest as it swung open. Then a big dark man wearing overalls stood there with what looked like a souped-up shotgun.
Josie stared up at him, her gun trained on his forehead. “Stop or I’ll drop you right where you stand.”
The big man put a finger to his lips. “Shh. I’m Toby. Mama Joe sent me to find you.”
Josie staggered up the wall, her gun still drawn. “How can I be sure?”
He held the shotgun down. “’Cause if I don’t fetch you back to the meetin’ place, Mama Joe will put a load of buckshot in my backside.”
She stood but didn’t let her guard down. “Well, when you put it like that—”
“C’mon,” he said, the shotgun still pointed down. “We got some unwanted visitors. But we got it under control for now.”
“Where is Connor?” Josie asked, her eyes adjusting to the growing darkness. She could make out the trees and the water, but the whole swamp was shrouded in gray shadows that danced like skeleton bones around the boathouse.
“Follow me,” Big Toby replied without giving her any answers.
He didn’t take her gun away, so that was good. She’d shoot him if he turned on her. But the giant didn’t turn on her or try to harm her in any way. Instead, he took her through a path that didn’t begin to look like a path. He swatted palmetto fronds and cypress limbs and climbed over knotty cypress knees then helped her through.
