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Sitting still under the tree reminded her that waiting, being seemingly inactive, was the most difficult part of any assignment, especially an undercover operation where your partner was being targeted. She tried for deep breathing to steady herself and prepare for action as needed.
But her side hurt too much to fill her lungs, and her heart pounded against her chest with unrelenting anguish. When another gunshot rang out, she could no longer wait. Veronica stood and ran in the direction Dylan had, toward the picnic shelter. She first ran straight to the outhouse, using it as cover. No shots fired. She edged around it, listened.
Silence. A scuffle. No more shots.
Turning the corner of the far edge of the primitive restroom, she had to make a potentially fatal decision. Go to the shelter, where Dylan could be bleeding out—or worse—and make herself an easy target? Or wait here?
Dylan saw the cat pounce at the same time the shooter got off a shot. Whether it was meant for him or the cat he wasn’t certain, and it didn’t matter. He saw the shooter on the ground, the cougar’s huge paws on their chest. Ready to shoot if he needed to, he kept running, and only when he reached the shelter did the cat look up at him, as if to challenge any interloper on his tasty meal.
Dylan fired one shot toward the sky, and to his relief the feline startled then leaped in one fast motion, clearing two picnic tables and disappearing into the darkness. But Dylan knew that it didn’t mean the cat was gone by any means. If it had wandered this far into the park from its usual habitat farther north, it was hungry and most likely waiting for an easier opening to grab a snack.
He briefly turned his attention to the shooter, who lay on their back, arms bleeding, night-vision goggles atop their head. Their eyes were closed but their hands were still wrapped around the high-power rifle that had fired a bullet at him. He turned on his flashlight with the intent to blind either the shooter when their lids opened, or the cat if it returned.
A soft snort sounded and he noticed movement at the edge of the picnic shelter. Two large eyes watched him, the cat’s mouth open as it licked its lips.
The light shone out of the darkness and illuminated one person on the ground, and the other—Dylan—standing next to the prone form. Relief that Dylan hadn’t been shot was replaced by incredulity. Who had followed them all the way here, after both she and Dylan had used proper evasion tactics?
Taking two steps closer, she moved to holster her weapon, then sensed another presence. The reason Dylan hadn’t knelt beside the shooter to check for pulse, the reason he stood with his pistol pointing toward the edge of the shelter.
Mountain lion.
Dylan held his gun steady with both hands, aimed at the predator, and—
“AAAAGHHH!!!” Veronica shouted as she adopted a fierce stance, raising her arms above her head and waving at the cat while keeping her handgun in one hand. He would have mimicked her movements but kept his aim steady, ready to shoot the predator. He knew the defensive maneuvers to take as well as Veronica, but wasn’t about to risk becoming the cat’s next meal. To Dylan’s amazement, however, the cat broke from its stalking mode to look at Veronica, blink and flatten its rounded ears a split second before it turned and bounded away in one quick motion.
Dylan’s heart pounded as he continued to hold his weapon aloft. A familiar touch to his shoulder grounded him.
“It’s okay, Dylan. We’re good. It won’t come back if we’re lucky. We need to focus on this jerk now.”
He met her gaze and nodded. “Right.” He motioned at the shooter, who remained still, eyes closed. “Cover me.”
“Got you.” She aimed at their stalker, who, unlike the mountain lion, hadn’t been on an opportunistic hunt. Dylan held the flashlight to illuminate the person, placed his fingers on their throat.
“Strong pulse.”
At his voice, the stalker’s eyes opened.
He heard Veronica gasp, and cast a quick glance her way.
“Kat! What the hell?”
Chapter 20
“Who is she?” Dylan had his weapon in hand again, pointed at Kat.
Anger followed swiftly on Veronica’s initial stunned surprise and she fought to keep her aim steady on the woman she’d believed to be a trusted colleague.
“Red Grove PD Officer Kaitlyn Caruthers. Our newest recruit, but with experience that I’m sure was on a falsified résumé, unless RGPD is hiring assassins on the side,” she answered Dylan, then turned her entire ire on Kat. “You said to call you ‘Kat.’ Wild guess—that’s not your real name? And who did you pay off to have your background check come up clean? And what the hell are you doing here, trying to kill us?”
“Can I sit up?” Kat’s tone was steady and almost apologetic but her fingers tightened on her rifle. Before any more words were exchanged, Dylan sat astride Kat with both of his hands on her weapon. Kat fought but it was a brief resistance. Dylan took her rifle and handed it to Veronica, who placed it on a picnic table. He patted her down, checked for any obvious injuries, then rose to his feet.
“You can sit up, slowly.”
Kat wriggled onto her bottom, remaining on the concrete slab. Veronica sighed her relief when Dylan produced plastic cuffs and immediately secured Kat’s wrists and ankles.
“I’m never going to tell you what you want to know.” Kat ground the words through a clenched jaw.
“You don’t have to. I already know the answers.” Veronica met Dylan’s gaze as they stood in front of their wannabe killer. “You’re the one who’s been following us and reporting back to Rex.” It explained why Kat had followed them all the way into this park, why she’d taken shots at Dylan.
