Page 168 of Dead Man's List

Sam ended the call and went back to the GPS tracking screen. “They’re still there. We’ll be there in three minutes.”

Navarro stepped on the gas. “Less than that.”

They were silent until Sam saw the driveway. It was unmarked and he would have missed it had he not watched the blue dot that was Kit and Connor’s car turn that way. “There.”

Navarro slowed to turn, and then they both froze at the sound of rapid gunfire.

“Shit,” Navarro hissed, flooring the car.

Which lasted for all of ten seconds. The driveway—if that was what it really was—wound dangerously through the trees, and the car’s back tires slid on the wet dirt. Navarro swerved so that they didn’t plow into a tree.

“Dammit.” Navarro was white-knuckling the steering wheel.

More shots were fired and Sam had to fight not to be sick.

She’s okay. She has to be.Connor too, of course.

But Kit. She was Sam’s. Or she would be someday.

Let her be okay. Please.

Navarro drew a breath and began more carefully navigating the curvy road. The shots grew louder.

“If we keep going,” Sam said, “he’ll know we’re coming.”

“That might make him stop.”

“Or it might make him desperate.”

Navarro scowled. “I’m getting out. You wait here for the sheriff.”

That felt like a bad plan, but Sam wasn’t going to argue with the Homicide lieutenant. He was unsurprised when Navarro reached into his coat and drew his service revolver from its shoulder holster. He was surprised, however, when Navarro pressed the gun into Sam’s hands.

“But you need this,” Sam said.

“I wear a double shoulder holster, so I’ve got two handguns, and there’s a rifle in the back. You know how to use that?” Navarro pointed at the gun.

“I do. I practice with Connor at the range.”

“Good. Use it to defend yourself if you have to. Just…don’t shoot anyone.”

Sam wanted to ask why Navarro was handing a gun to him if he wasn’t allowed to shoot anyone with it, but he bit his tongue. “You want to take the sat phone?”

“Keep it in case the sheriff’s office calls.”

Navarro took off, leaving Sam sitting alone in the car.

More shots cracked the air and Sam’s stomach clenched.

He couldn’t just sit here.

Hewouldn’tjust sit here.

Climbing across the console of Navarro’s car, Sam got behind the wheel and searched for the EV mode button. Navarro’s vehicle wasn’t a Toyota like Sam’s, but it was a hybrid. Switching to the electric motor would allow him to approach silently.

He found the switch and put the car in drive, navigating the winding road while watching for a glimpse of Navarro, Kit, or Connor.

Instead, he came up upon the tan Chevy Suburban, parked diagonally across the road, blocking his path. He couldn’t get through.