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She nodded. “Like you suggested. We figure we can get these guys to turn on whoever they’re working for higher up the food chain.”
As the smoke cleared further, Riley said, “Decker, I see Ted Ross, but notLassiter.”
They all looked over to see Ross, his face bloodied from Jamison’s blow, being hauled to his feet by two agents.
Decker said. “Someone ran off back toward the house. It was probably Lassiter.”
“We’ll get her,” said Kemper confidently. “This place is surrounded. I have agents barricading the road up. There’s no way out.”
Decker glanced over atthe SUVs. Ross and his wheelchair were gone.
He rushed over there only to find pieces of duct tape on the ground. The old man must have managed to free himself somehow.
Kemper joined him a moment later.
“What is it?” she said.
“Fred Ross is out there in his wheelchair somewhere,” added Decker.
Kemper smiled. “Again, not a problem. Thanks for theassist, Decker.”
She left to confer with some of her men and to confront Ted Ross.
Decker watched her go for a few moments and then looked at Riley.
“Go help the others. I’ll be back.”
Before Riley could say anything, he had already hustled off.
A few minutes later he emerged from the road to the cemetery and looked up toward the house. He stoppedand gazed around, listening for someone running. He heard nothing and started moving again. He was listening for the sound of Ross’s wheelchair, but again he heard nothing.
Where could the old man have gone?
He picked up his pace. And where was Lassiter? She couldn’t leave on foot. She would easily be caught. But with avehicleshe might have a shot at running Kemper’s barricade.Decker had the keys to the truck they’d driven up in. But he knew there wasanothervehicle available.
He hustled toward the garage.
Right as he got there, the truck started up. He heard gears gnashing and the old Suburban hurtled backward out of the garage bay.
He had to throw himself sideways to avoid being run over.
He rolled and sat up as Lassiter spunthe wheel and the Suburban cut a one-eighty, its hood pointed toward the road.
From a kneeling position, Decker settled the shotgun’s stock against his shoulder and took aim.
“Get out of the truck, Lassiter! Or I open fire.”
Her answer was five pistol shots fired at him through the open driver’s side window.
Fortunately, she couldn’t really aim and driveat the same time, so her rounds sailed wide.
Decker fired several shotgun blasts at the side of the truck.
The pellets slammed into the old Suburban, blowing out both tires, shattering a window, and pockmarking the doors.
Lassiter screamed and a few moments later the passenger door flew open. He heard feet hit the dirt and then she was running away.
Lassitercame into his sightline and he watched as she ran to the front door of the mansion and disappeared inside.
