Page 167 of Paranoid

“Aaarrggghh!” he screamed. Blood sprayed and he flailed, the pistol still in his hand. “You bitch! You fuckin’ bitch!”

She pushed harder still as he squealed in agony, writhing, trying to jerk the weapon from his neck. “Fuck! Shit!” He swung wide with one arm, barely missing her as she took one hand off the shaft and unlatched her seat belt.

Before he could get his wits about him, she found the button on the shaft of the umbrella, poked it, and, spring-loaded, it expanded with a whoosh, the canopy snapping open, the pointed ferule still jabbed deep into his throat.

She couldn’t see him, but the ribs of the umbrella caught in the overhead light.

He screamed in pain trying to point the gun around the canopy, while attempting to wrench it from his neck with his free hand. In his flailing he hit the horn. Inspired, Harper hit the emergency flashers, then unlatched the door and rolled outside, her feet hitting the rough pavement.

Her phone!

Oh, crap!

She thought about retrieving it but saw the muzzle of the gun and took off, sprinting down the uneven asphalt.

Behind her, Lucas howled and raged.

The Jeep’s lights blinked. The open door alarm dinged.

Harper expected to hear a shot, to feel the sharp sting of a bullet in her back.

But until that happened, she ran.

Harper Ryder ran as she’d never run before.

CHAPTER 38

The street outside of the Wooden Nickel was chaos.

Patrons from the brewery were clustered in groups, talking and smoking, being interviewed by the cops who’d shown up after the shooting or reporters who had arrived at the scene that they’d cordoned off. Pictures and video had been taken and Kayleigh had watched, distraught, as Cade had been lifted into an ambulance before it had driven off, siren screaming, lights blazing.

God, she hoped he’d survive.

As he’d lain on the sidewalk, bleeding, losing consciousness, she’d nailed that bastard Hollander, watching the gun spring from his hand as he fell, two cops from the Seaside PD all over him.

Kayleigh had run to Cade, talked to him, tried to keep him conscious, fearing his wound would be mortal.

“Stay with me!” she’d ordered. “Ryder? Cade? Do you hear me? Damn it, you stay with me! Don’t you dare leave me!”

But he’d drifted away from her despite her best efforts before she could tell him that she loved him, that she’d always loved him, that he just couldn’t die on her.

Before the EMTs had taken him away, she’d heard his phone bleat and she’d picked it up, reading Rachel’s desperate text, then listening to the voice mail message. It didn’t make sense. They’d caught the killer. Hollander was clinging to life, or had been when he’d been hauled away, under guard and by ambulance, to the hospital.

So why was Rachel panicked?

Because her daughter had snuck out to be with her boyfriend?

Yeah, that wasn’t good, but not exactly abnormal. Teens did it all the time. And Rachel was a bit on the hysterical side, a woman whose fears drove her.

Still...

She went into the voice mail, caught the one from Rachel asking Cade to call, and then she listened to a long one . . . another message, a longer one, and her heart turned to ice. It ran for several minutes and recorded a horrifying confrontation between Harper and Lu

cas Ryder. Fear galvanizing her, Kayleigh started running to her car.

She didn’t hesitate for a second even though she was certain her actions tonight, the shooting of Hollander, would be under review. She could be on leave. Even though when she’d blasted Hollander, the shooting had been caught on police cameras, her actions would be studied and she’d have at the minimum a few days off so that the department could verify her actions were called for.

But right now . . . while the Seaside PD was wrapping this up, she could get away. She had her own vehicle. And she needed to get to that cannery and fast.