She exhaled a long breath. They hadn’t found this vehicle. It wasn’t registered to Madison Jameson or Madeleine Jerrard, but she’d learned to be safe rather than sorry with her hunters. Their noses were sharp and their reach was long. She hurried toward the vehicle. The sooner this city faded in her rearview mirror, the better.
The engine revved and the Cutlass sprang forward. Maddie skidded to a halt feet from the grill, bitterness coating her tongue. Someone sat behind the wheel. No way to discern more than a silhouette in the dimness, but whoever it was couldn’t be a friend. She had no more of those.
Maddie whirled and ran. The vehicle followed, and a voice called her full name—her real name. Sure, they’d mock her identity at the end. No bullet for her. Just a hit and run with her own car. A greasy spot on the pavement.
She wasn’t about to let them win that easily. As she ran, her hand dove inside her pack and closed around the handle of a 10 mm Glock pistol. She tossed the pack and disengaged the safety on the pistol.
“Maddie!” the male voice called again. Too familiar. And impossible!
Her racing feet jerked to a halt, and she pivoted on her heel, Glock extended in both hands. The Oldsmobile’s tires locked, and the car skidded toward her. The scent of burnt rubber met Maddie’s nostrils as she leaped up and forward. The vehicle rocked to a halt, bumper covering the spot where she’d been standing. She landed atop the hood on her knees and the knuckles of one fist. The other arm trained the Glock on the driver.
He lifted his hands, palms out, lips pressed into a tight line.
Blood pounded in Maddie’s ears and blackness edged her vision. It was him.
The most gorgeous man on the planet. He was supposed to be dead, but he was alive. She should shoot him.
ISBN: 9781460301272
Copyright © 2013 by Harlequin Books S.A.
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Tracking Justice (Texas K-9 Unit) Page 20
