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Gabe stiffened. That was André’s voice.
“Cresswell, get to the back stairwell now,” André continued.
McCauley drew his gun from his holster, giving Burke a mild glare. “You heard that?”
“We did,” Burke said. “What’s happening?”
“Just stay put,” McCauley commanded. “Roll up your windows and keep your heads down.”
Burke complied, but Molly rolled hers down enough that they could hear what was happening. Both Burke and Molly had tensed, both sliding their own weapons from their holsters.
Gabe had to remember to breathe. He put a hand on Xavier’s shoulder, ready to push the young man out of the way should bullets begin to fly.
And then a screeching sound tore the air.
An emergency exit, Gabe guessed, then knew he was right a few seconds later when a man stumbled from the alley into the street, his arm around an older woman’s throat.
And a gun to the woman’s temple.
Lamont Ducote.Gabe felt a growl start in his chest, but he shoved it down. The bastard did indeed have a hostage. “What are we going to do?” he asked.
“We’re going to stay here,” Burke barked, his body coiled to move. As was Molly’s. “It’s Cresswell’s job to stop him.”
But Cresswell hadn’t stopped him. Ducote was dragging the woman along the sidewalk and, by now, people were noticing the gun. Some ran away screaming. Others pressed closer, phones held high as they recorded the unfolding drama.
Assholes.
“Where’s Cresswell?” Molly shouted over the noise coming through the car window, which was now mostly the screams of the passersby.
“I don’t know,” Burke shouted back. “But Ducote is coming this way.”
And McCauley was approaching the man and his hostage, his service weapon drawn. “Let her go!” McCauley yelled.
Ducote’s answer was to pull the gun from his hostage’s head long enough to fire at McCauley. The officer dropped like a rock.
Xavier cried out in shock. Gabe felt frozen.
Outside the car, chaos erupted, the crowd pushing and shoving to escape the scene.
Then Burke was moving, rushing out of the SUV to drag McCauley behind it.
Molly cursed. “Where the fuck is NOPD? Where is André? Burke?” she called through Burke’s open door. “What’s McCauley’s status?”
“He’s dead,” Burke said grimly. “He took a bullet to his temple. It doesn’t look like anyone is coming for Ducote. Something bad must have gone down inside the hotel. If Ducote drags her into that crowd...”
They’d lose him. He’d get away.
We’ll never be safe from him.
“He shot that cop,” Xavier whispered hoarsely. “He killed that cop. Oh my God.”
“I know.” Gabe could feel panic skirting the edges of his mind and pushed it back. He’d known that Ducote was a killer. He’d seen him shoot Mule.
Ducote had killed so many others. Nadia. Joelle. The woman from the bayou the day before.
His breath hitched in his chest. My father. He killed my father. I’m sorry, Dad. I’m so sorry.
Sorry that it had happened. Sorry that he hadn’t been able to stop it. Sorry that Ducote was still killing people.
