Cold Shot (34 page)

Finley swallowed. So that’s why he was in the U.S. Did he know about the evidence Tanner possessed?

Striding to the driver’s side, Perera climbed into the Expedition, and shut the door. “He and Kovac knew you were coming. Rativik was watching when you arrived at the feed store.”

“How do you know that?”

“You’re an awfully bold woman asking so many questions with a gun at your side.” The barrel pressed into her ribs. “I was waiting too. Tracking Rativik.”

As Perera pulled out onto the paved road, he glared in the rearview mirror. “We’re going to take a little drive. You try anything, Tanner, and what Rativik said goes—your friend dies.”

Finley bit the inside of her cheek. If Perera was right and Kovac knew they were coming . . .

Her stomach burned.
Griffin.

Please, Father, let them be okay. Let Griffin’s plan work.

She glanced at Springer Road as they flew past, spotting Griffin’s truck barreling down it toward them.

Thank you, Lord.

She needed to stall. To do something. Perera was intent on killing Tanner if not them both.

“Where are you taking us?”

He didn’t respond.

“What are you going to do to us?”

He looked over at her as if they all knew the answer to that one.

“Then why bother saving us from Rativik?”

“He and his cohort tried to set me up for Marley’s murder. That’s unacceptable. Saving you was just a fortunate by-product for you.”

“Until you kill us.”

“You’re still alive, aren’t you?”

“For how long?”

“That depends on my needs.”

She cringed at the darkness welling in his eyes.

“Let me guess. We’re loose ends, just like Rachel Lester.”

He smiled. “Ah, so you figured out Rachel was my mole. Impressive.”

“And you killed her.”

“My associate handled that. I prefer not to get my hands dirty unless absolutely necessary.”

“Where’s he taking them?” Griffin asked, flying down the road.

Declan called in and arranged for the Bureau to track his car. “Uh-huh,” he said over the phone. “What’s ahead? Any exit strategy? How far? Okay.” He hung up. “There’s a small airstrip twenty miles from here.”

“
Great
. If Perera gets them on that plane, we’ll lose him.”

“Not if we beat him there.”

“What if we’re wrong? What if he isn’t headed there? What if he beats us there?”

Declan looked at Griffin. “You make the call.”

Griffin pulled up a map of the area on his phone. “Call in a rapid-response team to the airstrip.”

“And us?”

“We’re going to intercept them.”

Declan’s eyes widened. “And then do what?”

Griffin accelerated. “You’re going to have to trust me on this one.”

Parker gripped the back of his seat. “Why don’t I like the sound of that?”

47

F
inley struggled to slip her hands free, but the zip tie Perera had slid on was too tight. She glanced back at Tanner struggling to do the same.

Perera cut right onto a side road, wheels squealing with the maneuver.

Think, Finley
. She searched the vehicle for a weapon.

They approached another intersection, flying by it.

Where was he taking them? And what was he going to do when he got there?

Her stomach flipped, panic pulsating along her nerve endings.

Please, Lord, let Griffin reach us in time.

Hot tears streamed down her cheeks.

They flew past another intersection and quickly approached another. She needed to start paying attention to the street names and direction they were headed.

She turned to look at the green road sign, praying she’d be able to read it at the blinding speed they were traveling at, and blinked as Griffin’s truck came barreling at them.

“Hold on,” she screamed at Tanner as his truck plowed into the side of them, just front of center, veering them toward the tree line.

Perera cursed as they collided, wedging the Expedition between Griffin’s truck and a tree.

Finley’s head rung.

The air bags deflated and she blinked. Her door opened and Griffin’s sturdy arms wrapped around her, lifting her from the crumpled vehicle.

She collapsed into his hold as he carried her from the smoke. “Tanner?”

“Parker will get her,” he said.

He settled her on the ground and knelt beside her, examining her injuries.

“Perera?”

“Looked unconscious, but you were my priority. I’m sure Declan’s on it.”

He clasped her hand, then stood. “I’m going to grab the first-aid kit from the truck.”

Truck
.

“Did you seriously ram into us?”

“It was the best scenario.”

“To hit us broadside?”

“Not broadside. A few inches to the right of it.”

She stared at him as if he had three heads. Was he insane?

“It was the spot for the least chance of harm to you, but allowed me to maneuver your vehicle.”

Parker sat Tanner on the ground beside her.

She looked woozy, but she insisted on getting to her feet, cradling her arm as she did so.

“I think it’s broken,” he said.

“Perera?” she asked, trying to push past him.

He stopped her. “Declan said he’s pinned in the vehicle. EMTs are on the way.”

Finley sat in the back of the ambulance, a blanket draped across her shoulders.

She’d been cleared to go home. Just a few bumps and bruises.

Tanner had a broken right arm but refused to leave until Perera was officially in federal custody.

With Tanner’s evidence, Rativik’s murder, and their abduction at gunpoint, Perera wouldn’t be leaving the country or the penal system anytime soon.

Griffin took a seat beside Finley as another ambulance pulled away with Perera inside, trailed by federal escort vehicles.

“You doing okay?” he asked, brushing the hair from her face.

“Still in shock, I think. I can’t believe you hit us, but . . .” She clutched his hand. “So thankful you did. We all are. You saved our lives.”

“It was the safest calculated risk to rescue you. If Perera had reached that airfield . . .” He squeezed her hand.

They both knew what that could have meant.

She rested her head on his shoulder. “You owe me a date.”

He chuckled. “I do?”

“Most definitely.”

“Not that I’m complaining at the prospect of an official date with the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, but why do I
owe
you?”

“First, you interrupted my last date halfway through, and second, you just sideswiped the vehicle I was riding in.”

A mischievous grin quirked on his lips. “I’d ram your vehicle anytime if it meant protecting you.”

She smiled back, a laugh at the precious absurdity of it all tickling her throat with a giggle. “And I love you for that.”

“I love you too,” he breathed against her lips.

EPILOGUE

F
inley watched as Griffin ambled to her door, a swagger in his step, a soft smile on his lips.

He paused on her doorstep and took a breath before knocking.

“Pace yourself,” she whispered, forcing herself not to lunge at the door. Anticipation had spiraled through her all night, giving her little sleep, and it was not relenting in the least now. All from the thought of spending the weekend with Griffin and his family. This was another big step in the direction she prayed they were moving.

“Hi,” she blurted as she flung open the door.

Griffin’s smile widened. “You look beautiful.” His gaze thoughtfully lingered over her.

“Thanks. You look handsome, as usual.”

He glanced down at his turkey sweater, and color flushed his cheeks. “It was a gift from my mom.”

“That’s sweet.” She couldn’t believe she was going to spend
the holiday with Griffin and his folks. She was excited and antsy to get going.

He inclined his head. “You ready?”

“Yes. Let me just grab the cookies.”

“Cookies?”

“Oatmeal raisin. I couldn’t show up empty-handed.”

“I’m sure my folks will appreciate them.”

“It was no trouble.” That was a lie. She could cook, but when it came to baking, something always seemed to short-circuit. She prayed they came out edible.

She climbed in his new truck as he held the door open for her, wondering again why she hadn’t just used Le Mont’s Bakery.

Because she wanted it to be from the heart. She just prayed it didn’t give theirs an attack.

Griffin settled in beside her and pulled away from the curb.

“So tell me more about them.” Their introduction at the hospital had been so short, and everyone had been focused and deep in prayer for Declan’s recovery, not on chitchat. Griffin had introduced her to his folks, but today—this weekend—would be the first time she was truly meeting them, getting to know her possible future family, and she couldn’t wait.

“Again?” he smiled.

She’d been asking questions since she met them at the hospital. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I think it’s awesome you’re so excited to get to know my folks better. They are going to love you.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I do.”

She bit her bottom lip. “I love you too.”

“Hopefully you still will after a weekend with the gang in Chesapeake Harbor.”

“I’m so glad Avery and Tanner are going to join in.” With Griffin’s, Parker’s, Declan’s, Kate’s, and Luke’s families, it should prove to be quite the gathering.

“I’ve been there once,” she said.

He arched a brow. “To Chesapeake Harbor?”

“Yeah. It was a long time ago and we weren’t there long. My college roommate dated a guy from there for a while, and one weekend we picked him up on the way down to Ocean City.”

“Remember his name?” Chesapeake was small enough. If this guy really was a local, Griff would know him.

“Craig.”

“Craig Lewis?” He was the only Craig that fell in their general age range.

“Nope. It’s been a bit, but I think his last name started with a B—Baxter. . . . Bates?”

“Craig Bateman?” he nearly choked. The man was fifty.

She snapped. “Yes. That’s it. Bateman.”

He shifted in his seat. “A little old for your friend, wasn’t he?” Unless her roommate had been a much older college student.

“Serena had a thing for older guys. Craig wasn’t the first, and I doubt he was the last.”

“Odd.”

“Not so uncommon. It usually starts with a flirtation with a professor and grows from there.”

“So you . . . you experienced that?”

“Me?” She laughed. “No. Eww. I’m just saying it happens.”

He’d never look at Craig Bateman the same again.

“We ate at this really cool Irish pub. Mc . . .”

“McCallahan’s?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s my uncle’s place. Brother on my mom’s side.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope. My mom’s youngest brother. Started it about a decade back.”

“They had this great—”

“Irish seafood chowder?”

“Yes.”

“It’s their trademark dish. Sort of like what Pat’s cheesesteaks is to Philly.”

“I can see why. On both accounts. So . . . you have Irish ancestry?” she said, pulling her legs up cross-legged on the seat.

“Most of the town does.”

“Hence Parker’s accent.”

“Yeah. His family immigrated later than most in the crabbing community.”

“Is that what your family does?”

“My dad did. My mom was a second-grade teacher. Both are retired now, though Dad still goes crabbing nearly every morning. Once it’s in the blood . . .”

She would have asked how
he
got into law enforcement, how all the Pirates did, but she thought she knew the answer to that. Jenna’s death had ignited their fire for justice. Declan had mentioned as much. And now Marley Trent’s death had oddly enough reunited them, all but the mysterious Luke Gallagher.

The pieces of Marley’s case had finally fallen into place, even locating Paul Geller’s storage facility after a nonstop week of searching. Andrea Trent’s files would be returned to her husband. Marley’s casework on Rativik and Kovac, including the photograph she’d snapped of Rativik among the crowd at the reenactment in Gettysburg last year, would go to GJM. Along with her notes on the tracking she’d done to Rativik and Kovac’s meeting spot at the battlefield.