The sheriff gave him the gun.
Jasper led out the two prisoners. He cast one quick look back at the sheriff. He sure hoped that Wyatt knew what he was doing. Jasper didn’t like leaving any man to the flames. Leaving a man behind—that wasn’t the way he was programmed to operate.
The prisoners rushed outside. And, as he’d expected, Gunner was there, waiting on them. Gunner had his gun drawn and a fierce don’t try anything expression etched on his face.
Jasper glanced back at the station’s door. Where was the sheriff? Would he come out the front or make his way out the back?
He’d go check, make sure everyone was safe and—
Gunfire ripped through the night. One blast. Two.
The two prisoners fell instantly. Blood bloomed on their chests and their bodies hit the pavement.
Swearing, Jasper leaped forward and slammed his body into Veronica’s. They fell to the ground, and he kept her covered, using his body as a shield. At any moment, he expected to hear the blast of more gunfire, and he expected to feel bullets slam into his back. “Gunner!” Jasper bellowed. His yell was an order. Jasper would protect Veronica, and Gunner would find the shooter.
Keeping his body over Veronica’s, Jasper led her behind his parked truck. It wasn’t much in the way of shelter, but it was better than nothing. An old garage was at their back, the truck in front of them.
Jasper’s head turned toward the men on the ground. They weren’t moving, and that dark bloom on their chests told him that he wouldn’t be getting any more information from them.
Heart shots. Both of them. Dead-on. Just...
Dead.
Veronica was silent beneath him. He heard footsteps pounding toward him and he looked up to see an ash-covered Wyatt racing across the station’s small parking lot. The deputy—pale, with wide eyes—was right on his heels. The men were right out in the open. Perfect targets.
“Get down!” Jasper roared at them. “We’ve got a shooter.” A very skilled shooter who’d just taken out two men who were less than five feet away from Jasper
.
Two men...but after those hits, the gunman hadn’t fired another shot. Gunner and Veronica were the two who’d been out in the open the longest.
He didn’t aim for us. He’d waited and taken the shots when his real targets came out of the sheriff’s station.
“Stay low,” Jasper ordered Veronica as he finally lifted his body off hers. “Keep your head down,” he told her because the last thing he wanted was for her to become a target.
She grabbed his hand when he turned to leave. “Where are you going?” There was a scratch on her cheek, and her palms looked red and raw. Jasper knew the injuries had come from the impact, when he’d shoved her to the ground.
Just for a second, his fingers brushed over the scrapes on her palm. Then he told her the truth, “I’m going hunting.” Because that was what he did best.
Her face tensed, but he didn’t hesitate any longer. He got his weapon ready and eased away from his cover. He knew where the gunfire had come from. He’d been trained to track back to the source of a shot. In the dead of night like this, no one else was around, so the tracking was even easier for him. A fast glance assured him that the little strip in town was deserted. Flames kept crackling, and Jasper didn’t even know where the fire department was, but he sure hoped Wyatt was calling for help.
Moving with barely a whisper of sound, Jasper headed up to the right. He caught a glimpse of Gunner, moving fast in the same direction. They were both closing in on their prey. The angle of the shots, the trajectory—they knew where their shooter should be.
Only when they closed in, he wasn’t there. No one was there.
Jasper spun around, searching the darkness. Damn it. A car or motorcycle could have crept quietly away, its movements easily covered by the crackle of the flames. If the shooter had escaped in a vehicle, they wouldn’t be able to tell for sure in the darkness. When morning came, they’d be able to check in the light. Look for tracks in the dirt roads and gravel and—
Thunder rumbled, and it was definitely thunder this time, not another gunshot.
His teeth snapped together. Rain would destroy any tracks. Hell, hell, hell. The shooter was about to have one lucky getaway.
“Are we clear?” That had to be the deputy’s voice. Cutting high with fear and trembling in the night. “Is it safe to come out?”
Jasper and Gunner shared a long look. They might be clear, for the moment, but the killer had just sent them one blunt message.
I’m here. I’m watching.
I’m killing.