Page 46 of Secrets Beneath the Waves

He held it tight in his hand, but the other man had that M4 up and pointed at him again. “That was fun. But it’s time to walk.” He swung around and kicked the other two men in the head, muttering obscenities about their job performance.

Ramon wanted to throw the knife, but with the strength he had, it would probably bounce off the guy’s body armor and clatter to the ground. He wasn’t going to be able to do any damage with it. Instead, he held it tight to his side.

“Get up!”

Ramon flinched. He cleared his throat, swallowing back the saliva that tasted like blood in his mouth. He shifted, tucked his arm tight to his chest, and managed to stand.

“You really think keeping that knife is gonna help you?” The guy chuckled. “Die with it in your hand if it makes you feel better. You’re still gonna die.”

He shoved Ramon, who was forced to hop while his leg felt like it was going to give out at any second. Blood ran down fromthe wound in his shoulder, soaking his shirt. If this guy burned his body in a furnace, there would be nothing left. No way to ever know that Ramon had even been here.

He shifted the knife to his left hand, but the pain in his arm didn’t let him hold it. Fine. He’d have to do this with the knife hand.

Ramon got some blood from the knife wound on his fingers. He stumbled and leaned against the wall, smearing his bloody fingers across the outside stucco of the building.

A little forensic evidence, just in case someone came looking for justice and needed to know Ramon had been here.

The gunman walked him to the end of the building. “On the other side. The open door.”

Ramon took a step out into the open between the two rows of buildings, just off the main drag. A second later, scores of car engines crested the hill at the entrance and raced down the single lane toward the base.

“Guess you’re out of time.” Ramon threw the words over his shoulder, expecting a bullet to hit his spine or the back of his head at any second. A tiny squeeze, just the barest amount of pressure on the trigger of that gun, and he would be dead before he even realized what was happening.

“Stop where you are.”

Ramon’s footsteps stuttered, and he turned back.

In the middle of the street. The barrel of an M4 pointed at him, and behind it, the man’s gaze was full of intention. Waiting.

But for what?

“Who do you think called them?” The guy’s brows rose. “Swanson is going down.”

Flashing red-and-blue lights lit up the buildings around them, and a Toyota compact pulled between two, speeding over to them and pulling to a stop.

The two men who got out were the detectives from the scene the night before. The ones investigating the disappearances of all those young women.

Ramon dropped the knife on the ground and shifted, which meant he had to hop on his injured leg. “He’s with them!” He supported his broken arm with the other. “They were going to kill me.”

The detective nodded. “Chris.”

Ramon flinched. “What’s this?”

The gunman lowered his weapon. “Swanson is here. You can catch him with all the evidence.”

“Doesn’t mean you get more than we agreed on,” the detective said. “Being a confidential informant isn’t about the money.”

The other detective smirked. “You’re doing a public service.”

“Sentiment don’t pay the bills.” The gunman shifted the rifle, holding it by his leg.

“There’s time for both of you to tell us the whole story.” The first detective lifted his chin, covered in stubble and in need of a shave. His top shirt button was undone, and he hadn’t bothered fixing his tie either.

His partner said, “Let’s go, both of you.”

Ramon looked at the gunman. “I’m not going with him. The guy was about to kill me and toss me in a furnace.”

The detective looked between them. “Don’t worry, we’ll get this all sorted out.”