SIX

      “Looks like it set down over there.” Noah pointed out the windshield, then made a right turn.

      “That’s the park area out front of city hall.”

      “If it’s clear of trees there’s probably enough space to land.” He still didn’t like this, though. He had no phone signal. No way to tell if the occupants of that helicopter were friend or foe. One meant rescue, the other meant more running.

      The marshals, or the cartel?

      He turned a corner. On the sidewalk, an older woman wearing warm clothes and white sneakers hustled along. More than a power walk. She glanced behind her, then hurried down the street. Running away.

      At the far end of this street, on the corner at the crosswalk, two men stood together in conversation. Both had dark hair and red-tipped ears from the cold. No gloves, black boots. The bottom half of their pant legs were wet.

      Men from the woods. Possibly the same ones who had chased them. He didn’t know.

      Noah kept driving. What else could he do? Then he saw a side street halfway down the block. He tapped the gas and took the turn faster than he should. At the last second he saw the men recognize them.

      Noah gripped the wheel.

      Amy twisted to look out the back window. “He got his phone out.”

      “They’ll be calling in a sighting of us. Are they following?”

      “I don’t think so.” Her voice still shook. That quaver of fear he didn’t like.

      It might be realistic to be scared, and he wasn’t going to tell her not to be. Still, Noah would rather Amy were somewhere safe by now. Or that she’d never gotten into this situation in the first place.

      But that would be impossible. Life was about choices, and she’d done the right thing. It had cost the life of her nephew, but she was moving on. Trying to get free.

      He wanted to be there to the end, if he could.

      If she would let him be part of the happy ending of her story.

      “We need to ditch this car.”

      Amy said nothing. Noah pulled into someone’s driveway. The sheriff’s department probably had GPS on all their vehicles. If he and Amy were going to get out of here, then they needed a way to do that without being tracked.

      He pulled up the emergency brake and shut the engine off, leaving the keys inside. “Come on.”

      They hopped out, and he shifted places with her so he could hold her right hand and have his gun in his right hand. He wanted her with him. Connected. And he wanted to be able to defend them both.

      “Seems weirdly quiet,” she commented as they turned onto the sidewalk.

      “Empty.” No one was outside, apart from that older lady he’d seen running from the two men.

      Across the street Noah saw the slats of a blind in someone’s front window snap shut. They were being watched? Or whoever it was wanted to make sure they stayed out of sight.

      “This feels weird.”

      Noah squeezed her hand for a second to try and impart some reassurance in her. Hopefully it worked. But until they were actually out of here, neither of them was going to relax.

      “It’s up here?” He pointed with their joined hands.

      Amy nodded. “To the right.”

      “Okay.” He didn’t want to go out into a common area if they were going to be exposed, so he slowed at the end of the street.

      Then he checked behind them. No one had followed. He crouched and looked around the corner. Please be the marshals.

      The helicopter rotors had powered down. A group of men milled around. Noah drew his phone and took pictures of them, trying to zoom in far enough to make out…

      That was the cartel’s number two.

      His stomach dropped. “It’s not help.”

      They needed to get out of here, and fast. Too many men. They were outnumbered, and outgunned. Noah would love to arrest that guy right now. Take him in. Get all the respect and accolades for bringing down a key player in the cartel, one they’d never been able to pin down. A man on the FBI’s Most Wanted list.

      Now he was here. Surrounded by foot soldiers all looking for Amy.

      “Who is…?”

      Behind the cartel number two, another man climbed from the helicopter. Jeremiah Sanders. Amy’s brother.

      Noah shifted. “We have to go.”

      The street was still empty. They needed a car. A way out of town.

      “What—”

      He cut her off. “It’s not help. It’s more of their guys.” He tugged her back down the sidewalk. Should he tell her?

      “Noah.”

      She knew. “Your brother is here.” Amy said nothing. “I don’t want to be standing around when they spot us.”

      She nodded, her face flushed. Her hair was disheveled. “Okay.”

      He picked up the pace and they started to run. But where? Aside from that sheriff’s department vehicle, how were they supposed to get out of town to a safe place? He wasn’t about to steal someone’s car. Help appeared to be limited.

      It was like the whole town had been put on lockdown and every resident confined to their homes. Which was good, as it helped them to avoid collateral damage when bullets started flying. Who wanted an innocent caught in the cross fire?

      But the eerie quiet was bizarre enough it caused a niggling feeling in him. How were they supposed to get out? Her brother and all his cartel buddies were here. Jeremiah had escaped prison for the express purpose of flushing out Amy so he could get revenge.

      Amy squeezed his hand. “Jeremiah is really—”

      A man turned the corner at the street where they’d left the car.

      “—here?”

      There was no time to answer her question. He shoved her across the street. “Go!”