Explosive Attraction - By Lena Diaz Page 0,37

kicked the window. Nothing. Another kick, harder. The glass cracked into a spiderweb pattern. A third kick, and the window shattered, raining shards of glass all over the inside of the car and pinging across the asphalt underneath.

Rafe reached in to unlock the door. He yanked it open, grabbed the trunk release on the floor. He held his breath and pulled the lever. A dull thump sounded as the trunk popped open.

He began to breathe again, in short, choppy pants as adrenaline kicked in. He tugged his gun out of his holster and raced toward the back of the car. He crouched low, then swung around the side, aiming his gun into the trunk.

Empty. No bomber in hiding.

No Darby. No Mindy.

Where were they?

He checked his watch again.

Two minutes.

Think, think, think. He drew a deep breath of salty air, trying to clear his mind. If he were the bomber, and parked in this parking lot, what would he do? He turned in circles, looking at his surroundings. If he were the bomber, where would he go?

Not back toward the road. He might run into other people.

Not into the trees. There were campsites all over the park. Too many potential witnesses.

Where then?

In front of him, white, bleached sand dunes jutted up into the skyline. Even though he couldn’t see the ocean, he could hear it. Waves crashing, miles of water stretching toward the horizon. No fences, no roads, nothing to stop a man who’d already proven he was comfortable around boats. Maybe the bomber’s plan all along had been to escape into the ocean. Maybe he had a boat anchored just past the waves, waiting.

Rafe took off in a sprint. When he reached the edge of the parking lot, he ran down the wooden planked sidewalk that led toward the beach. His shoes made a hollow sound, broadcasting his location.

Every move he was making felt wrong. Everything he was doing was wrong. He was breaking standard operating procedure, charging forward without backup, making noise when he should have been going slow and quiet, playing it safe.

He didn’t have a choice. He couldn’t wait for backup. He couldn’t play it safe.

There wasn’t enough time.

A high-pitched scream galvanized him forward. He pumped his arms and legs faster, leaving the boardwalk, topping the nearest dune just as another scream sounded out, followed by a name. Mindy. Someone was crying her name.

Darby.

The wind snatched the sound of her screams before he could tell which direction they were coming from. When he reached the top of the next dune, the dark blue ocean spread out before him. A hundred yards away, a man and a woman struggled in the surf. He shoved her head under the water. The flash of the woman’s pink top had Rafe’s heart wrenching in his chest.

He held his gun out in front of him and sprinted forward. “Police, stop!”

The man didn’t seem to notice or hear him over the wind and surf.

Rafe felt as though he was running in place, getting nowhere. The sand kept shifting under his feet, slowing him down. He took aim at the man in the water. Could he get a clear shot without hitting Darby? The man’s head turned his way. He yanked Darby up out of the water and held her in front of him like a shield.

She flailed wildly in his arms, coughing, sputtering, desperately trying to get away. She kept trying to throw herself back into the water.

What was she doing?

“Police, stop!” Rafe yelled again as he followed the direction of Darby’s gaze. She was staring at a body. Facedown. Floating in the surf. Mindy.

Darby’s desperate screams tore at Rafe’s heart.

The bomber held Darby in front of him, his thick arm pressed against her throat, his other hand buried in her hair, yanking her head back.

“Let her go!” Rafe stopped ten feet away. The face of the man from the boat stood staring back at him.

“Drop the gun or I’ll crush her windpipe.”

“Help Mindy.” Darby clawed at the hand against her throat, her eyes pleading with Rafe. “Help Mindy!”

Rafe threw his gun onto the sand, out of reach from the man holding Darby, and away from the water.

The bomber heaved Darby into the ocean and took off running toward the dunes.

Rafe hesitated, not sure whether to go after Darby or the bomber. Darby made the decision for him. She dove into the water, streaking away from him with powerful strokes, completely in her element as she swam toward Mindy.

Rafe ran for his gun, lunging,