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Marie spared a quick glance at Lewis. Blood pooled on the floor beneath him, but she couldn’t take her focus off Bill long enough to find out how badly he’d been injured.
“I’m going to walk out the way I came. You’re going to stay right there.” Bill took one slow step backward, then another, toward the door with his gun trained on Lewis.
Adrenaline coursed through her veins. She kept her arms straight, never taking her gaze from Bill’s retreating form. She longed to squeeze the trigger, but she’d never shot a gun in her life. It couldn’t be as easy as it looked in the movies, especially with her nerves bouncing around her body. And if she missed, she had no doubt Bill would stay true to his word and kill Lewis.
As much as she hated to stand there and watch him leave, it was her only option.
A blare of a horn honked from outside and an engine revved. A blue car cut through the back yard, visible through the open door. The driver cranked the wheel so the car spun through the grass and faced the way it had just come. Someone pushed open the passenger door.
Bill puckered his lips and kissed the air. “See you and our daughter soon, Babe.” He fled through the door at a half run, half shuffle and stumbled into the car.
A sob tore through Marie and she dropped to the floor, releasing the gun from her death grip. Lewis laid on his stomach, his eyes closed and his entire body still. Dark crimson oozed through the denim of his jeans. Marie had no experience with first aid and logic didn’t compute in her muddled mind.
She jumped to her feet and grabbed the phone from the table. Her fingers trembled as she pressed 9-1-1 and held the phone to her ear.
“9-1-1. What’s your emergency?”
“A man’s been shot.” Marie dropped back down next to Lewis and placed her fingers along the inside of his wrist. “He has a pulse, but he’s old and weak. He needs help now.”
“Okay. Where are you?”
Panic flooded her brain. She didn’t know Lewis’ address. “In a house by the river. Just north of town. Lewis Sinclair’s house.”
A sharp gasp rattled the speaker. “I’m sending a squad there now. Please stay on the line until they get there.”
Adrenaline fled her body, and her teeth clattered together. She cradled her palm around Lewis’ limp hand. “I need the police here, too. The man who shot him is wanted for murder, and he just drove away.”
Owen waited at the four-way stop in front of the pedestrian walkway along the red brick road that cut down the center of town. He tapped his index finger against the top of the steering wheel as a young mother led her toddler to the other side of the street toward the ice cream shop on the corner.
The little boy hopped beside his mother, a wide grin plastered across his cherub face.
Owen fought the urge to yell to them to hurry. He hated to drive through town where the speed limit slowed him down, but it was still quicker than cutting around the edge of the city limits.
Pressing his foot on the gas pedal, he lurched forward and headed toward Pappy’s. He had work to do, but a nagging sensation in his gut told him to check in. He’d tried calling, but no one had answered, which only increased his anxiety.
The sound of sirens in the distance perked his ears, and he glanced into the rearview mirror. Angry slashes of red and blue bled against the bright sky. He pulled to the side of the road and turned up the volume of the police scanner on his dashboard. Noise crackled and voices crashed, calling out codes and locations. Nothing that needed the parade of emergency vehicles barreling toward him.
His phone rang, and he glanced at the screen before answering. His sister hardly ever called in the middle of the day. Sweat moistened his palms as he accepted the call. “Hey, Katherine. What’s up?” An ambulance and two patrol cars sped past. Not waiting to find out what happened, he slid onto the bumpy road and followed behind the patrol car.
“Owen, where are you?” Katherine’s panicked voice pounded against his eardrum.
“Downtown, following a couple cops and an ambulance.” He squinted, trying to make out the driver of the police car. “They sped by me on my way to Pappy’s. I want to find out where they’re going.”
“Get to Pappy’s. Now. They’re probably on their way here.”
Owen straightened and tightened his grip on the wheel. “What happened?” Following in the wake of the screaming sirens meant no traffic blocked his path, but he added pressure to the gas pedal to get as close as he could to the car in front of him. Icy blasts of fear shot up his spine.
“Pappy was shot.”
Owen fought not to crush his eyes closed as his body took the physical impact of her words. “Is he okay?” His throat almost closed around the question, but he needed to know what to expect when he arrived at his grandfather’s house—an injured old man or a dead body.
“He’s alive. I’m more concerned about the bump on his head than the bullet wound. The bullet grazed his leg. But he fell and hit his head, knocked him out for a while.”
Relief cleared the thickness in his throat, but more questions flooded his brain. “Why are you there?”
“I got a call from the dispatcher—she’s a friend of mine. I came straight here and made it before anyone else. Some woman’s here, too. Said she knows you.” A film of weariness coated Katherine’s distress. “She’s pretty shaken up. Some guy named Bill showed up. He shot Pappy when she tried to get away from him.” A tremor sliced through her voice.
Owen smacked the heel of his hand against the steering wheel, and the horn blared. “I got to make a call. The ambulance should be there soon. I’m right behind them.”
