Page 59 of Final Approach

TWELVE

Kristine climbed out of her car and pulled out her phone to text Andrew that she was there, not wanting to knock or ring the bell in case Hank was sleeping. And where was Tim, the—

“Kristine!”

She spun to see Andrew and Hank rush toward her from the area behind the house. “Hey, what are you—”

Gunshots rang out and they all hit the ground. Kristine rolled next to her car and sucked in a breath while she drew her weapon. Hadn’t they just done this?

Andrew and Hank dropped next to her.

“You guys good?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Hank muttered. “I guess. I don’t have any bullet holes, so that’s a positive.”

“How’d they find you?” she asked.

“Who knows?”

She hadn’t led them here, had she? What a horrible thought. “When did all this start?”

“Shortly after we texted. They didn’t follow you.”

He was a mind reader. Freaky. “Okay, so now what?”

“I’ve already called backup,” Hank said. “Just waiting on them to get here.”

Andrew peered around the vehicle and pulled back. “Then we just either need to hold this dude off—”

The next crack of the weapon sent the bullet through the window of the house. And the next. Then the next.

“What’s he doing?” Kristine asked.

Andrew shifted, his brows pulled tight, then realization dawned. “He doesn’t know we’re out here. The house is full of gas and he’s trying to hit something metal to spark it and make the house explode. Run for the back! There’s a hill down the side that will offer some protection. Tim should be there waiting.”

They took off as the gun popped one more time. Twice. And again. They rounded the side and scrambled for the hill Andrew pointed out. The explosion rocked the air and sent the three of them to the ground, hands over their ears, heads ducked.

Sirens screamed over the roar of the flames, and blue and red lights bounced onto the scene. Kristine’s ears rang and her heart pounded. She rolled over to look at the damage, and the house was burning hard. If someone had been inside, they would be dead. Even her Bucar was burning. The gunshots had come from the street above and to the left of the blazing home. “Should we go after him?”

Andrew dug a finger in his ear. “I’m not sure, but I thought I heard a motorcycle speed off.”

“You did,” Tim said, dropping beside her. She flinched.

With the explosion and the ringing in her ears, she’d missed his approach and the motorcycle leaving. But still, something niggled at her.

She gripped her weapon and looked in the direction she thought the bullets may have come from. But the shadows were too dark, even with the law enforcement vehicles lighting up the night.

She moved closer to the guys. “Does any of this feel off to you?”

Hank snorted. “Like all of it?”

“No, I mean, since when do gang members sneak into houses and tamper with gas lines—I’m assuming that’s what happened—andthen stand outside and shoot bullets hoping to make the house blow? I mean I’m just guessing, but that’s sure what it looked like to me.”

“Yeah, me too,” Andrew said.

Hank frowned. “You have a point. That’s not gang work. At least not any kind of gang work I’ve ever heard of. But what else could it be?”

“No idea,” Kristine said.