“Oh, it can’t be a girl,” Chad said with an equally big grin that told them he really didn’t care if it was a boy or a girl. “Then two women will have me wrapped around their little fingers,” he said with mock fear in his voice. “I can’t have that.”
As they laughed, Chad heard a car creep to a halt outside Jennie’s parents’ house next door. He went immediately on alert just as Zeke stood and growled, low and in his throat. It wasn’t a loud bark. It was an almost silent warning.
The headlights on the car were cut before it even finished pulling to the curb and whoever was in it didn’t exit right away.
Chad sat Jennie up, placing a finger to his lips to indicate to the group to be quiet.
“Jen,” he shook her a little. “Jen, did you tell anyone we were here? Text or call anyone?”
She looked at him with confusion in her gaze but shook her head, no.
Chad looked up at the couples sitting around him. “Have you called anyone since we arrived?”
He had a bad feeling about this. And he trusted his gut. It had kept him alive in a lot of tough situations.
All four of them shook their heads.
Chad left Jennie on the couch and motioned to everyone to stay put. He slipped his Glock out of his duffel and held it by his right leg as he went to the window to watch Jennie’s house.
Two men exited the car. He didn’t recognize them, but their dark clothing furthered the feeling of unease coming over him. As he watched, they crept toward the house carrying large containers. It took only seconds for Chad to recognize they had containers of gasoline.
He grabbed his phone and tossed it to Jennie’s dad. “They’re setting your house on fire. Call 911. Tell them what I look like and what I’m wearing. Stay inside until I get back,” he said as he turned toward the back of the house.
He heard Jennie cry out behind him, but he had to leave her. He needed to find out who the men next door were and how they’d tracked them down. Once the police arrived, he wouldn’t have a shot at any of that.
He crossed through the dining room, grabbing one of the cloth napkins from the table and tying it around his mouth and nose, cowboy style. He went into the kitchen, then slipped out into the yard.
He moved silently as he took in the location of the men next door. He stopped and listened, focusing only on the sounds around him. He could hear one man at the front of the house and one at the back. And neither was expecting him.
Chad hoped he could get to them before one of them lit a match. The smell of gasoline was overpowering, even with his impromptu mask, as he got closer to the house. Using a gun was out of the question with so much accelerant around.
It was clear that the men weren’t professionals and had no clue what they were doing. Surrounding the house with gasoline wasn’t a very effective way of burning it down. They needed to be working from the inside out. Not to mention, the men hadn’t even checked to be sure Jennie was inside the house before they started.
Whoever had sent these guys hadn’t taken the time to find someone who knew what they were doing. They were either acting hastily or were acting on someone else’s plan, with little thought as to how to execute it.
Chad moved into position behind the man at the back of the house. The guy was tall but looked to be fairly out of shape, his gut hanging over the top of his pants.
Chad moved quickly, grabbing him in a carotid hold designed to cut the blood supply to the man’s brain. It was a very quick way to render someone unconscious, and usually worked faster than a choke hold. He felt the man go limp in his arms.
With no cuffs or zip ties to secure the first arsonist, he’d have to hope he was able to take out the second man before the first one came to. He lowered him to the ground and listened for his accomplice.
The sound of trampling through the bushes told Chad the second man was heading around the side of the house toward him. Chad ducked into the shadows against the side of the house and waited.
“Barry,” came the man’s voice in a whisper. “Barry? Where the hell are you?”
Chad stepped from the shadows, leading with his fist. The second man was in better shape than the first. It wasn’t easy to take a dead-on hit from Chad like that and still be standing, but he came back at Chad with a right cross and a series of jabs.
Chad deflected the man’s blows, waiting for an opening. When one came, he exploded, shoving the man back against the house with a series of shots. When his adversary’s back hit the house, Chad cut off his air supply with a forearm across the neck.
“Who sent you?” Chad growled.
The man clawed at his arm with ineffective hands, his eyes bulging as he fought for breath.
Chad eased up a fraction, allowing the man a small amount of air as he asked again, “Who. Sent. You.” His tone was deadly and fierce because he needed to extract any information he could, quickly. Once the police came, there wouldn’t be a chance for any more of Chad’s style of questioning.
The man shook his head and Chad pressed in once again, cutting off the assailant’s air supply. Hearing sirens, he knew his time was up.
Whoever this guy was, he wasn’t talking easily. Chad yanked the arsonist around and gripped both his arms in a hold behind the man’s back. He shoved him ahead of him to meet the police as his mind processed the implications of this attack.