Bound By Duty. Valerie Hansen
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out who at Canyon Air Force Base was really cooperating with Boyd. How long were they going to continue disrupting her life and work? A wryly humorous thought intruded, and she chuckled.
Colson stared. The muscular K-9 at his side tensed. “What’s so funny?”
Zoe waved her hands in dismissal as best she could with the canvas grocery tote handles looped over her forearms. “Relax, Sergeant. I wasn’t laughing at you. I was just picturing you guys trying to track me when I’m giving flying lessons. How are you at piloting a T-38 in close formation?”
She was relieved to note he was having difficulty containing his own smile. His mouth stayed put, but there was no denying a spark in his green eyes.
“I’d wait for you on the ground,” he said. “Or outside the simulator.”
Sobering, Zoe shook her head slowly, her light brown ponytail swinging. “I don’t suppose it would do me any good to take an oath that I haven’t seen Boyd since the last time I visited him in prison.”
“That’s not for me to say.”
“No, I don’t suppose it is.” An eyebrow arched above her hazel eyes. “What if it were? Would you be willing to at least give me the benefit of the doubt instead of condemning me outright?”
To her surprise and disappointment, he said, “No.”
“So much for the famous air force camaraderie,” Zoe muttered. Louder, she said, “Fine,” shouldered past him and started up the sidewalk toward Base Boulevard.
He turned slightly as she passed. “Those bags look heavy. Why didn’t you call a cab after you bought so much?”
“It’s a beautiful spring day in the heart of Texas,” she snapped back. “Walking is a pleasure.”
“If you say so.”
Righteous indignation surged, and she picked up her pace. She couldn’t stop the base cops from shadowing her, but she didn’t have to make it easy. If her conscience hadn’t kept kicking up, she would have enjoyed her impromptu plan to ditch this one even more.
Instead of looking back to see how far ahead she was getting, she checked the reflections in the rear window of a bus that was unloading green recruits, probably for a tour of the impressive shopping facilities at the Base Exchange.
It looked as if Sergeant Colson was trailing her by at least a hundred yards. Good. Her smile returned. She shouldered her way through the milling group of men and women gathered on the sidewalk, then ducked in front of the idling bus, keeping it between her and the K-9 cop for as long as she could before darting around the far end of the stores in the Exchange and breaking into a run.
The moment she saw the warehouse complex behind the stores she knew exactly what to do next. She slipped between two of them and paused to catch her breath. Yes, the K-9 could and would track her. But in the meantime, she intended to enjoy thwarting his handler for a few minutes. Let Colson wonder where she was and what she was up to. Base personnel had already painted her as a clever criminal, a person to be avoided and mistrusted. A contrary side to her nature insisted on payback.
She ducked around a second corner, tried a side door to one of the warehouse buildings, found it unlocked and bolted through, lowering her sacks of groceries to the floor as she pressed her back to the inside of the steel door.
Breathless, Zoe stared into the darkness of the vast windowless storage area and waited for her night vision to improve.
This is wrong, her conscience insisted.
Was she finished playing games? Not quite. Leaving behind her purchases, she flipped the lock on the door to secure it and began to edge past pallets of boxes stacked in rows, looking for a different exit.
The sudden whirring of a motor stopped her in her tracks. Somebody was raising the overhead bay doors at the far end. Light crept below the broad edge of the moving panels. Then they stopped, leaving a gap of about three feet between the floor and the base of the door.
Zoe didn’t move. Hardly breathed. Had Sergeant Colson located her already? Wow, he was good at tracking. Or, at least, his dog was. She was preparing to step forward and reveal herself—until she realized she wasn’t seeing a K-9.
Instead, a man in camo and combat boots and a woman wearing a skirt and high heels ducked beneath the hanging door. All Zoe could see clearly was their feet and lower legs, but it was obvious she’d given Colson too much credit. He hadn’t found her. This was probably nothing more than a lovers’ tryst.
Voices reached her but were too muted to understand. She was about to back away and give the couple privacy when she saw a muzzle flash and heard the reverberation of a gunshot.
Instinct made her duck and cover her ears. Self-preservation kept her down while every hair at the nape of her neck prickled and her body trembled, willing her to run yet keeping her feet leaden. She could barely breathe.
The female figure was crumpling to the floor. Zoe could see blood spreading across the back of a reddish-haired woman’s light-colored blouse. The shooter bent over her, his gun at the ready, a black ski mask hiding his features.
Help! She had to get help. Trembling, Zoe pulled her cell phone from the pocket of her PT shorts. Its lit screen and beeps of dialing were her undoing. As the victim lay still, bleeding and perhaps dying, the assailant straightened, wheeled to face the noise and started to move toward Zoe.
He was coming for her. She was next!
* * *
Linc Colson was concentrating, his jaw clenched, every nerve taut, as he followed K-9 Star. The rottweiler was as good as they came, and he trusted her tracking skills implicitly. That was why when she began to bark and paw at a closed warehouse door, he drew his sidearm and immediately tried the handle. Locked. And far too sturdily made to kick open.
He’d reached for the mic clipped to his shoulder, intending to report the evasive actions of his assigned suspect when a C-130 passing overhead forced a delay. He could hardly hear Star’s barking over the roar of those engines, let alone hope to be able to transmit clearly. He just hoped Sergeant Sullivan hadn’t run off to meet her murderous brother.
Linc jiggled the door handle again to no avail. He had just let it go when the heavy door swung open and a body slammed into his chest. Zoe Sullivan! Pushing her away, he commanded Star to sit and stay while one hand hovered over his holster and he faced his quarry.
Gasping, she raised both hands, palms out. “Don’t shoot. It’s me.”
“I can see that.” He had to shout at her to make himself heard over the fading roar of the cargo plane.
When she reached out to him, he took additional evasive action. “Stay where you are.”
“No! You don’t understand.”
Her voice was shrill. Different than before. She sounded frightened. Well, too bad. “If you didn’t want to get in more trouble, you shouldn’t have tried to ditch me.” He peered past her. “Where’s Boyd?”
“How should I know?”
Judging by the way she kept shaking her head, waving her hands and gaping at him, she’d scared herself more than she’d worried him. Good. It served her right.
“I’m sorry. I promise I won’t do it again, but...”
“You sure won’t.” He signaled his dog to stand guard. “No more special courtesy for you, Sergeant Sullivan. From now on, I’m your shadow. You got that?”
“Fine. Then follow me.”
She turned and ducked back through the open door so quickly only Star kept up. Linc shouted, “Stop!” But the flight instructor kept right on going, stumbling when Star got in front of her to try to block her progress.
Linc grabbed a fistful of the back of Zoe’s shirt and yanked her back outside. “Oh, no,