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  He eased his hand beneath his jacket, undid his hip holster and pulled out his Ruger. “Stay down. Don’t move until I tell you to.”

  Dane scanned the wooded area across the street from the lake cottage. Whoever was out there might be using a rifle with an ungodly range, and that could mean he was a good distance away. But Dane’s instincts told him that the shooter wasn’t a professional—if he was, he wouldn’t have missed. And that probably meant he was close by and using a hunting rifle.

  “When I start shooting, we’re going off the porch and toward the car.” As they dashed from the porch, Dane fired off several shots toward the unseen enemy in the woods. They landed in front of the Navigator just as their attacker retaliated, peppering the porch and house. Then he fired several bullets into the side of Annie’s sport utility vehicle. Dane maneuvered Annie down to the ground, keeping his body between her and the shooter.

  He exchanged more fire with the gunman. Suddenly an odd sound, like a muffled cry, came from the woods, followed by the crunch of footsteps over dry leaves and underbrush. And then everything went eerily quiet. Deadly still. A faint rustle of wind through the trees. A whispery mumble from the lake behind the cottage. The hum of springtime insects.

  And the roar of a car’s engine.

  “I must have hit him,” Dane said.

  “Is he gone?”

  “Yeah, I’d say he’s leaving.” Dane grabbed Annie’s arm and brought her to her feet along with him, when he stood. “We’re going after him.”

  “We are?”

  “Give me the keys,” he demanded.

  She didn’t think twice, didn’t question his barked order. She just dug into her purse, pulled out the keys and handed them to him.

  He unlocked the doors, shoved her into the passenger seat, fastened the safety belt and then rounded the hood. He jumped in the Navigator, slammed the door, swung the safety belt around him, and started the motor.

  “Is there more than one road out of here?” Dane asked as he backed the vehicle into the road.

  “No, just this one, coming from town and going farther out into the country.”

  “Then he’ll have to leave by this road.”

  “But how can we know which way he went?”

  “We’ll have to guess.” Dane turned the car in the direction that lead to town. If the guy was shot, he’d go toward civilization, go to someone who could discreetly take care of his wound.

  Pressing his foot on the accelerator, Dane put the Navigator’s V-8 engine to the test. He glanced at Annie. She looked as if she were holding her breath.

  “Hang on, honey. I see taillights up ahead.”

  “Do you think it’s him?”

  “We’ll find out.”

  Dane increased the speed and within minutes they were overtaking the car in front of them.

  “Can you make out the license plate numbers?” he asked.

  “Not yet.”

  When Dane pulled the Navigator closer, the car in front of them began swerving from one side of the road to the other, as if the driver were intoxicated. Either the guy’s injury was seriously affecting him or he was playing some kind of deadly game. Every time Dane tried to get close to the car, which he now recognized as a dark blue older model sports car, the driver increased his speed and veered off toward the side of the road.

  “What’s he doing?” Annie laid her hands over her stomach.

  “Are you getting sick?”

  “Queasy, but I’m okay. What’s he trying to do?”

  “Keep us from getting his plate number and stop us from passing him to get a look at his face.”

  Without warning, the sports car drove off the road, shrieked into reverse and came back toward the Navigator. He rammed the side of the sports utility vehicle with his back bumper. Annie gasped. Dane clutched the steering wheel with white-knuckled strength, trying to avoid another direct hit.

  Suddenly Dane noticed something shiny in the driver’s side window, the moonlight reflecting off the object. A gun! Damn! One of the bullets entered the front wheel. Double damn! Dane thought. The tire would be flat in no time.

  “He hit the tire, didn’t he?” Annie tried to concentrate on the license plate of the attacking car. “A four and a one,” she said. “It’s a Lauderdale County tag.”

  The sports car roared, shifted into drive and flew away, leaving the Navigator crippled. Dane pulled off to the side of the road, then got out. Cursing under his breath, he unlocked the tailgate.

  Annie hopped out, grateful to be alive, glad she hadn’t thrown up and mad as hell that she hadn’t been able to get more than four-one off the license plate.

  “Did you get a look at him?” she asked as she watched Dane roll the spare tire around to the front fender.

  “No, it was too dark and he kept moving.” Dane laid the tire on the ground and turned to Annie. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “I’m okay, just a little shaken.”

  The Navigator’s headlights shown like two luminous balls, casting beams of illumination out into the darkness. Overhead, the moon glowed brightly and stars littered the black sky. Dane reached out, slid his hand under her hair and around her neck, then pulled her toward him. She looked up at him and saw the concern in his eyes. “I’m going to keep you safe. I promise.”

  Leaning down, he pressed his forehead against hers, his breath warm on her face. His big fingers threaded through her hair, inching upward to cup the back of her head. She lifted her face. He kissed her. An I’m-so-damn-glad-you’re-alive kiss. The kind that was hot and wet and thrusting from the moment their lips met.

  He ended the kiss abruptly, released her and stepped away. “Get one of the flashlights and hold it for me while I change this tire.”

  She couldn’t move for a couple of seconds. She was still reeling from Dane’s passionate kiss. But he didn’t seem the least bit affected by it. He was as cool as a cucumber.

  She pulled her purse off the seat, delved inside and found a flashlight. “Where do you want me to shine it?” She hated that quivery note in her voice.

  “Shine it on the tire,” he said, his lips curving into a smile.

  She laughed, a nervous, agitated little laugh. “On the tire. Of course.”

  Annie saw the lights flashing atop the police cars half a block away from her house. Her heart leaped into her throat. Dear God, what had happened?

  Dane slowed the Navigator and pulled it up to the curb. Two police vehicles blocked the driveway. He reached over and grabbed Annie’s arm. “You stay here. Let me see what’s going on.”

  At that very minute Annie saw her mother, wearing a yellow satin robe, and Uncle Royce standing in the yard, talking to Chief Holman. Aunt Vera sat on the portico steps, her hands folded in her lap. Disregarding Dane’s order to stay in the car, Annie flung open the door and ran across the lawn.

  A young, bright-eyed officer threw out his arm in front of her. “Sorry, ma’am, you can’t—”

  “Let her through, McNabb. That’s Mrs. Harden’s daughter. She lives here,” Holman said. “And him, too.” He nodded at Dane, who was only a couple of feet behind Annie.

  Annie rushed to her mother’s side. Jennifer opened her arms and embraced her. “Oh, Annie, Annie, where were you?” Jennifer asked, her voice quivering. “I’ve been scared to death that something dreadful had happened to you. Someone broke into the house while we were out to dinner and—”

  “I’m fine, Mother.” Hugging Jennifer and patting her on the back, Annie offered comfort. “Didn’t you see the note I left?”

  “What note?” Jennifer lifted her head and stared at Annie. “We didn’t find a note, did we, Royce?”

  “No note,” Royce Layman said. “Where did you leave it, Annie?”

  “On the refrigerator where I always leave notes.”

  “Then I don’t understand why it wasn’t there.” Jennifer looked to her brother-in-law, her gaze questioning.

  “Was the house ransacked?” Dane asked.