Page 17 of Fighting for Julia (Laguna Beach Cops #6)
Julia placed her hand on his leg. He needed her comforting touch. To prove he wasn’t upset with her for delving into a painful part of his past, he covered her hand with his own.
“I’m sorry for prying into your life. I can’t imagine losing someone you love like that. I—” Julia broke off, and he glanced at her. She was biting her lower lip and gripping his leg.
“What?”
“I’ve never felt like that about anyone.”
Something akin to relief swept through him, and he squeezed her hand. “One day you will, Julia, and he’ll be a lucky guy.”
“That’s a sweet thing to say. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. I meant it.”
Neither professed to be hungry, too anxious to beat the Andersons to the safe house. They stopped at a gas station long enough to fill up the tank, use the facilities, and buy some snacks.
As they approached the safe house shortly after dark, Tex informed them that the Andersons weren’t there.
“I’ve disarmed the security system, but unless you can find a key, you’ll have to pick the lock.” Tex paused. “Look under the huge flowerpot on the porch.”
“Nobody does that anymore,” Miguel remarked. “Besides, I have a tool I can use. If I drive through the overgrown weeds and grass, Axis and Axalia will see the tracks. I’m parking in the woods and approaching on foot.”
“Copy that.”
Miguel maneuvered the sedan into a thick grove of trees.
He turned off the engine and pressed a button to open the hatchback.
He and Julia hopped out and retrieved their Glocks from their duffel bags.
They checked their ammunition and stuffed their coat pockets with spare magazines.
Both grabbed two sets of zip ties to secure the Andersons when they apprehended them.
Miguel holstered his Glock. In one hand he held a flashlight and a pop lock tool in the other.
Julia kept her gun handy in case they encountered the fugitives.
“These woods are spooky,” Julia declared. “At least we don’t have to worry about rattlesnakes. It’s been too cold for them to come out.”
Miguel made a face, though she couldn’t see it with their flashlights aimed at the ground. “I hate snakes, especially after Luca and Mallory barely escaped from a snake cult last fall.”
“I read about it online. Like I said, you guys attract the strangest kind of danger.”
They fell silent as they approached the back of the house. Using hand signals only law enforcement understood, Miguel indicated that she should head around the corner of the house and that he would cover her. In a situation like this, he didn’t want to let her out of his sight.
The night remained quiet. On a whim Miguel checked under the large flowerpot filled with dirt and found a key. He held it up and grinned. “I’ll be damned. Tex was right,” he whispered.
He inserted it into the door and jiggled it a bit to pop the lock.
Miguel drew his gun and slowly opened the door.
It squeaked from unuse. They cautiously crossed the threshold.
Their flashlight beams revealed furniture covered in white sheets with thick layers of dust on the cocktail table, lamps, and end tables. Cobwebs hung from a ceiling fan.
“No one has been here for years,” Julia commented. “Do you think there’s electricity?”
“I don’t see any mold, and it doesn’t feel humid in here.” Miguel aimed his flashlight at a wall next to the door and saw a set of switches. He flipped both, and light flooded the room. They turned off their flashlights and gazed around the great room.
“Pretty sparse,” Julia observed. “Nothing personal.”
“Somebody’s been paying the utilities on this place. Let’s find out who.” Miguel called Tex. “Hey, we’re inside the safe house. The electricity is on. Can you find out who’s paying the bill?”
“Sure. Give me a minute.” He came back on the line several seconds later. “Well, this is interesting. Former Laguna Beach Mayor Elliott Gage’s lawyer has been paying the utilities and property taxes. It doesn’t look like there’s any insurance on the house.”
“That’s weird. Nobody’s been in here for a while.”
Tex began to say something, then exclaimed, “Shit! The Andersons are several hundred yards away from the house. They’re driving a dark blue Taurus.”
“Copy that.” Miguel ended the call and relayed the news to Julia. “Axis and Axalia are almost here. You sure you want to proceed with our plan?”
“Yes!” She pulled the sheet off the couch and sat down. “Go!”
Miguel flipped off the lights and slipped outside.
Their plan was to sandwich the Andersons between them.
They were counting on Axalia freaking out upon seeing Julia and giving them an advantage over the siblings.
Miguel hid behind the thick trunk of an oak tree.
Spanish moss, hanging from its branches, provided more cover.
Soon he heard the thrum of an engine and saw the first beam of headlights approaching the house.
Adrenaline kicked in, causing Miguel’s heart to pump furiously in his chest. He gripped the butt of his gun in his sweaty hands.
The dark blue Taurus turned into the driveway.
Axis and Axalia climbed from the car and gazed at the house and the surrounding woods for several moments.
When Axis drew a pistol from his waistband, Miguel cursed.
Without earpieces to communicate, he couldn’t warn Julia about the firearm.
The siblings murmured something to each other that Miguel couldn’t understand, and they moved stealthily toward the front door.
Miguel’s breath came hard and fast. He’d locked the door and returned the key to its hiding place beneath the flowerpot.
As he suspected, they knew where to look for it and unlocked the door.
When light blazed in the windows, Miguel left his post and watched the ground to prevent his stepping on dry twigs or leaves as he approached the porch.
Axis and Axalia had left the door open, and he used it for cover.
“Well, hello , darlings,” Julia drawled in an eerie voice. “I’ve been waiting for you. Waiting for a really long time.”
Miguel shivered. He wondered if her voice sounded like Lola’s.
Axalia shrieked, “Mama!”
Miguel peered around the door. Axalia rushed toward Julia, who kept her Glock between the cushions on the sofa where the siblings couldn’t see it.
Axis sprinted forward and caught his sister around the waist. “That’s not Mama! Remember? I told you, Axalia. That’s her. Julia .”
“No. He’s lying to you. Come to me, my sweet girl.” Julia held out her arms.
Miguel steadied himself, ready to act to secure Axis. Axalia muttered something unintelligible. In an unexpected flash, she grabbed the pistol from her brother’s hand and pointed it at Julia.
Miguel’s heart stopped for a beat before he shouted, “Police! Put the gun down, Axalia, and raise your hands. Both of you. Slowly.”
With cat-like reflexes, Axalia spun around, aimed the gun at him, and pulled the trigger. Then she grabbed her brother’s hand. They sprinted through the open doorway and disappeared into the night.
The bullet struck Miguel’s lower right side.
Searing, white-hot pain robbed him of breath.
Stunned, he stared at the red blossom staining his shirt.
A stupid thought treaded across his mind: I’ve been shot .
He tried to form the words, but his mouth went slack, and his knees buckled beneath him.
Julia might have screamed his name; he wasn’t sure.
He also wasn’t sure about the gunshots reverberating in his ears or the yelp of pain he heard.
As he lay on the neutral-colored carpet, his training and instincts kicked in and he pressed his hands against the bullet hole. Warm blood flowed through his fingers.
Jesus Christ .
He began to pray and became aware of Julia kneeling next to him. “Oh, my God, Miguel!”
“Go!” he gasped. “Go after them!”
“No! I’m not leaving you.”
“Go!” Miguel insisted. “Best chance…to catch them.”
Julia ignored him. She called 911 and yelled at the operator, “Officer down! Officer down! Secret Service agent Miguel Rivera has been shot by fugitives Axis and Axalia Anderson!”
“Sending officers and paramedics to your location now, ma’am. To whom am I speaking?’
“Agent Julia Washburn, DEA.”
“Help is seven minutes out. Do you want me to stay on the line with you?”
“No, no.” Julia ended the call. “We have to stanch your bleeding.”
“That bad?” he joked and attempted to smile through his pain and fear.
“Yes.” She jumped to her feet, disappeared for several seconds, and returned with two old towels. “Miguel, roll onto your other side. I need to see if there’s an exit wound.”
Miguel gritted his teeth and almost lost consciousness from the pain spiraling through his midsection as he shifted onto his left side.
“Damn. The bullet is still inside you.”
From the amount of blood loss, Miguel could have told her that. She bunched up a towel beneath him and pressed the other one against his gunshot wound. The last thing Miguel heard was the distant wail of sirens.