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Carver turned his gun on Mark.
Colleen edged back, staring at him, keeping her weapon locked on Carver.
“I told you not to bring anyone!” Carver raged.
“I didn’t bring him—”
“You ass!” Mark raged. “Didn’t you just hear? The bitch stole my car. But now you’re here—”
“And I am going to shoot your ass!” Carver swore.
“And I’ll shoot yours!” Colleen promised.
“Or you can just surrender right now,” Mark said.
“You idiot, you don’t even have your gun out,” Carver said.
“Last chance,” Mark said. “FBI. You’re under arrest. Surrender.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Carver said.
And Rory Ayers, watching the action, lost his concentration.
Colleen must have sensed him lower the gun, must have known he was about to turn and take aim at her or Mark.
She suddenly dived low at Rory Ayers’s feet, slamming him down on the ground. His Smith & Wesson went flying. And Colleen none-too-gently brought herself down on top of him, ready with a pair of plastic cuffs.
Carver never got a shot off.
Ragnar had made a bull’s-eye shot—hitting the man directly in the wrist causing his gun to fly as well.
The man screamed in pain, falling to his knees, swearing vociferously.
“I will live! I will win in court! I will get you yet, Special Agent Law. You will know The Embracer and then you will know what it’s like. You will beg and plead, and I will listen to you as earth caves down on you and dirt fills your lungs! I will—”
He’d stared to rise. To scramble for his gun.
But Red knew when to act, and the dog bounded through the window, landing right on top of the man, taking his injured wrist into his mouth with a terrifying growl.
Red had Carver.
Mark hurried over to help Colleen cuff Ayers.
Ragnar hopped through the empty window opening and shook his head.
“I guess that was something of a plan,” he said. He shrugged. “It worked.”
“I don’t believe it!” Megan whispered. She started to rise.
And then she fell.
Ragnar rushed over, catching her right before she could fall to the ground.
“We need to get this called in,” he said, trying to hold Megan and reach for his phone.
“I’ve got it,” Colleen said, leaving Mark to drag a cuffed Rory Ayers to his feet. Mark’s eyes met hers, filled with gratitude and relief—and she was shaking as well.
He knew she was glad he had taken over with Ayers. She didn’t trust herself with the man who had held his gun against her sister’s head.
He saw she was trembling slightly. She’d held it together; she’d worked it well. But her life—and her sister’s life—had been on the line.
Colleen made the call.
Jim Carver started screaming again. “Police brutality!”
“We aren’t cops,” Ragnar said. He seemed to be more perplexed about what to do with Megan than he was with anything the serial killer might say.
“I will sue you! I will have this wretched mutt put to sleep!”
Red made a sound that was almost like a human laugh.
“Carver, you don’t even faze the dog,” Mark said, walking over to relieve Red and cuff the man as well.
Carver screamed in rage as Mark dragged him up and tried to put the cuffs above his wound.
“I’m bleeding! I’m injured!”
“Sorry, but you shouldn’t have been waving a gun around,” Mark said. “I did ask you nicely to surrender. And, sir, you are a dangerous man.”
Rory Ayers tried to lunge at Mark.
Mark sidestepped him and let the man fall back to the ground.
He rolled over, staring at Mark.
