Thanksgiving Protector. Sharon Dunn
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take the back. See if I can obtain entry and surprise him.” Kylie sprinted into a dead run, disappearing around a corner of the house.
Even as he radioed their location and asked for backup, he knew they couldn’t wait for help to arrive. Innocent people might die.
Inside the house, a light flashed on and then off.
Hopefully the goon would just run through the house and Kylie could catch him escaping out the back. That would be a best-case scenario. His chest squeezed tight. Best-case scenarios rarely happened in his line of work.
Heart pounding, Austin made his way to the side of the house. His mind flitted to Kylie as an image of her red hair and bright green eyes flashed across his brain.
Normally, he would assume she could take care of herself, but the death of an informant she clearly cared about had put her off her game, and he wasn’t sure if she had recovered.
He purged the thought from his mind. Doubt and hesitation would get them both killed. He had to move in and assume Kylie had his back, just as she always had before.
He found the door that had been blown open by gun blast and slipped inside what turned out to be the garage. He eased open the door that led to the inside of the house. The kitchen was dark. He moved across the tile making no noise at all. Gun drawn, he slipped inside the next room as the floor changed from tile to carpet.
The light in the living room flashed on.
A heavily tattooed Mexican man held a gun to the head of a woman in pajamas. She couldn’t be more than thirty. The woman’s tear-filled eyes pleaded with him as Garcia’s henchman yanked on her long brown hair.
The goon snarled at Austin.
Austin commanded him in Spanish to put the gun down.
The man lifted his chin defiantly. The coldness of the man’s eyes told Austin everything he needed to know. This was a seasoned criminal with a heart as cold as ice.
The goon would think nothing of using the woman as a human shield and then killing her so he could get away.
Austin could buy a few precious seconds by talking, but he couldn’t take the guy out without risking the woman’s life. Everything depended on Kylie moving into place and catching the man off guard.
He prayed she would be able to do that before it was too late.
Heart pounding against her rib cage, Kylie slipped around the back of the house, searching for entry. An open window caught her eye. It was nothing to push the screen out and slip inside.
She found herself in a dark hallway.
Austin’s seemingly calm voice drifted down the hallway. A light was on in what was probably the living room. Though she could not make out what he was saying, she picked up on the thread of tension that twisted tight beneath Austin’s words.
She pressed against the wall and moved toward the living room. She heard a second voice, louder than Austin’s, switching between broken English and Spanish. The intensity of the tone suggested fear and the threat of violence. She was close enough now to hear some of the words, “la matare”: I will kill her.
Terror struck through to Kylie’s core, yet she kept moving.
As she drew nearer, she picked up on a third voice, a woman crying and whispering “Please,” over and over. Kylie adjusted her grip on her gun and took in a sharp, quick breath.
She was only a few feet from being able to turn the corner into the living room when a door on the opposite end of the hallway swung open. A blonde girl of not more than five stepped out. Her eyes grew wide with fear when she saw Kylie.
Kylie put the gun back in the holster, knowing that was what frightened the child. She placed her finger across her lips indicating that the little girl needed to be quiet.
The girl stayed quiet, but it was clear she didn’t trust Kylie from the way she edged toward the living room. Kylie caught her, wedging the child inside her bent arm.
“I need you to go back to your room,” Kylie whispered.
“I want my mommy.” The girl tried to twist away.
Agitation and the need to stay calm warred within Kylie. She held the child tight but spoke gently even as precious seconds ticked away. “What’s your name?” She had to protect this child and that meant taking the time to win the girl’s trust.
The girl stopped struggling. “Misty.” She took in a jagged sob. “I want my mommy. I can hear her.”
“Misty. Everything is going to be all right. I will make sure your mommy is okay.”
“Are you the police?” Misty relaxed a little and brushed a strand hair off her face.
“Yes,” Kylie said. “I need you to go back to your room and shut the door. Lock it if you can. Can you do that for me, Misty?”
Misty nodded. Kylie released her. The little girl hurried down the carpeted hallway and disappeared back into the room.
Kylie let out a breath, praying that she would be able to keep her word to Misty.
The conversation in the living room had escalated. The henchman swore in Spanish. Austin tried to placate him. “Put the gun down. We don’t want to do anything that will send you to jail.” Austin spoke in Spanish as he raised his voice.
The words were to let Kylie know that the man was armed.
The woman’s crying and pleading grew louder. Kylie knew once she turned the corner she’d have less than a second to take in the scene and make a decision that could save or end a life.
“Don’t do this,” Austin repeated over and over. Despite the fear he must feel, his voice remained even.
She stepped into the living room as Austin moved toward the goon who held a gun to a woman’s head. She had a clean shot at the man’s leg. She took it.
The goon cried out, pushed the woman toward Austin as he spun and fired a shot at Kylie. Then he dove for the door, gripping his leg and hopping. Austin froze as the door opened and the goon stepped outside. Intense light flooded the front yard. And Kylie heard gunfire. Backup was here.
Kylie ran toward the woman who was trying to get to her feet. “Get down.”
More gunfire outside.
The woman clung to Kylie. “Misty?”
Kylie held the woman in her arms. “She’s all right. Your little girl is okay.”
Seconds later, lawmen swarmed inside the house. Kylie ignored them as she led the woman down the hall. The door burst open, and Misty ran toward her mom.
The woman wept as she held her daughter. “Oh, baby. My little girl.”
Kylie’s heart squeezed tight. There was another little girl whose mom wouldn’t be coming home tonight...or ever again. Mercedes was only six months old. All night Kylie had played her promise to Valentina over in her mind. Valentina had known the risk she was taking by becoming an informant, and had worried about what that might mean for her daughter. Kylie had given her word that she would take care of Mercedes if anything happened to Valentina. Valentina had put together a plan and made sure the paperwork was in order.
Guilt washed through her. Was the lone figure she’d seen crossing the river right before the gunfire Valentina trying to get to safety? Maybe Valentina had slipped over to Mexico gathering the intel that Garcia had changed locations, and she was trying to find the one person she trusted—Kylie—when she died. Kylie would never know for sure.
Austin came around the corner into the hallway. “Our suspect didn’t survive.”
With the amount of gunfire, she wasn’t surprised.