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I snorted. “You think the five-second rule applies in a vehicle?”
“In your rig? Yeah. I wouldn’t do it in anyone else’s.”
I leaned over to pick up the fry from the floorboard. A loudcrackrent the air just as my fingers touched the rogue potato. The driver’s side window exploded, showering me with thousands of glass shards. I felt the sting as slivers pierced the side of my face and my neck.
“Lio!” Abe yelled through the truck radio. “Are you okay? Were you hit?”
I jerked up to a sitting position and looked around. My heart was in my throat, making it hard to breathe, let alone speak. “I’m okay,” I managed to say. “Something just busted out my window.”
“Not something.Someone. That sounded like a rifle. Get out of there, baby.”
I’d spent my entire adult life facing danger in one form or another, yet fear had me by the balls. My head was on a swivel, looking for trouble, but my hands and feet wouldn’t budge. A rifle? Dense trees lined both sides of the road, and the encroaching nightfall made it impossible to detect a threat. Was that a shadow moving to my left, or was it just my overactive imagination? Was someone aiming again to finish the job? Your life can indeed flash before your eyes, but my mind didn’t play a collage of memories; it mocked me with the ones I hadn’t yet made. Every image featured the man screaming at me to get the fuck out of there.
“Lio, baby, please,” he begged. “Don’t leave me.”
Abe’s wrecked plea broke through my fog, releasing my frozen limbs. I stomped the gas pedal hard, making my rear tires squeal as they sought traction on the road. They finally gained purchase, and I shot forward. My pulse continued to race as I disobeyed every traffic law on my way back to the cabin. Night closed in all around me, making my chest heavy. The cold permeating my body had nothing to do with the brisk air coming in through the busted window.
Abe barreled out of the cabin in his bare feet when I pulled into the driveway. The motion-sensor security lights turned on when he ran down the porch steps, and I flinched as my eyes adjusted to the brightness. I shoved the gear shift into park, killed the engine, and stepped out of the truck. Abe was there, wrapping me up in his strong arms. He smelled like woodsy soap and fabric softener. I nuzzled my face against his flannel-clad chest before looking into his eyes.
“I think someone just tried to kill me.”
Abe
Images of what could have been flashed through my mind, and I held Lio tighter. I cupped his face and kissed him hard until a coppery taste filled my mouth. Blood. Lio was bleeding. I gripped his bicep and turned him toward the cabin. Putting myself between Lio and any potential threat, I guided him into the house. I shut and locked the door, pulled the drapes to make it harder for anyone to spot us, and turned to face him. At first, I thought the left side of his face and neck were covered in splattered blood, but then I realized he had dozens of tiny cuts and scrapes from his shattered window.
“We need to clean you up to ensure there’s no glass embedded in your skin.”
“I’m fine, Abe. We need to report the incident first.” The lawman inside me knew Lio was right, but I wanted to tend to his cuts more than anything. They were a visceral reminder of what had nearly happened. Lio pulled out his phone and dialed 911, ensuring the next hour or more would be chaos.
Liberty County Deputy Kim Rodgers responded first with Sheriff Kent Gunderson arriving close behind her. I didn’t know the sheriff very well, but we’d worked together a few times, and he seemed like a dedicated civil servant. Neither of us had requested Gunderson, but Lio had identified himself as Savannah’s police chief to emergency dispatch, which probably explained his presence. Deputy Rodgers gave him a slight double take, then continued to ask Lio questions until Gunderson walked over. I extended a hand, and he shook it heartily.
“It’s good to see you again, Abe. I just wish it wasn’t like this.”
“Likewise,” I replied. I placed my hand on the small of Lio’s back, a gesture the sheriff didn’t miss. “This is my partner, Emilio Mendoza.”
“Chief,” Gunderson said, shaking Lio’s hand. “I’m sorry we’re meeting under these circumstances.”
Lio smiled sheepishly. “Trust me. I’m sorrier than you are.”
“I wish I could assure you that you’ve overreacted, Chief, but I did a cursory inspection and found an obvious exit hole in the middle of your passenger door. It’s impossible to identify the ammunition used, but I can rule out a shotgun. We’re most likely looking at a rifle or high-powered handgun.”
“It was a rifle,” Abe said. “I was on the phone with Lio when it discharged.”
Gunderson nodded and fixed his steely gaze on Lio. “Mind telling me what happened?”
Lio walked them through everything, starting with the low-pressure warning and ending with what we believed was a bullet coming through his window. The sheriff circled back to the beginning and ran through a series of follow-up questions.
“Is the low-pressure warning a consistent issue with the tire or something new?”
“First time,” Lio said.
Gunderson nodded and Rodgers made a note. “Is it possible someone tampered with the tire and planned to shoot you when you stopped to check or fix it?”
“It’s possible, but they would’ve had to follow me. I think it’s more likely the low pressure was a coincidence.” Though it went against the grain for me to say so.
“And this Eads fellow…” Gunderson said. “How would he have known what direction you would’ve taken when leaving the store? You said he left before you picked up your food, right?”
“Yes, sir,” Lio said. “He could’ve seen me pull into the parking lot and drive past the pumps while he was inside the general store.”
