then watched Harley leaping toward him, then galloping off across the campus. “Is there a problem, Dr. Michaels?”
So much for leashing Harley, she thought ruefully. He had caught the excitement that was zinging through her and thought it was playtime. Well, maybe it was. She might know very soon. “No, there may be a solution, Roberts. I need to check something. Come with me!” She turned and ran toward the cliff.
* * *
Agent Roberts aimed his flashlight into the brush. “We’re going in there?”
Kendra stepped ahead of him on the almost-imperceptible pathway. “It’s easier than it looks. I could do it blindfolded. Literally.”
She high-stepped over a large clump of brush. “Be careful, that’s actually a rock.”
“You do know your way around here.”
“Just like almost every other kid who’s ever gone to this school. Duck!”
Roberts lowered his head just in time to avoid a low-hanging branch. “Thanks.”
“That’s a little lower than it used to be. This way.” She led Roberts and Harley to the left as the path started a slow incline. Harley bounded ahead a few yards but always kept a watchful eye back to make sure Kendra was still within sight.
Roberts shone the flashlight around to get his bearings. “Are you sure this is the right way?”
“Positive. It’s the fastest way to Lookout Point where I’m supposed to meet Lynch. And the safest, believe it or not.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“We should be at Lookout Point in about ten minutes. And it won’t be—”
Harley had stopped.
Something was wrong.
Kendra stopped short. “Harley?”
The dog sniffed the air and looked around in every direction. His ears folded back and his tail lowered.
Harley let out a low growl. He was tearing around in a circle, excited, growling, sniffing.
Kendra lifted her head, listening, every sense alert. What the hell are you picking up, Harley…?
Then the dog sprinted into the brush, well off their path.
“Harley!”
Harley was gone.
Roberts aimed his flashlight into the dense foliage where the dog had disappeared. “Should we go after him?”
“We’d never catch him.” She cocked her head, still hearing the crackling sounds of Harley moving through the dense brush. “But remember this spot. We’ll come back with Lynch and the others if Harley doesn’t show up.”
“Are you sure?”
She wasn’t sure of anything right now. She wanted to be out there with Harley, tracking down whatever had bothered him.
Focus. Stay on target.
“Yes. Let’s stick to the plan.”
She turned back toward the main path and pushed on. It had become more overgrown than she remembered. Did the current generation of students even use it anymore? Maybe the administrators had finally won their battle to keep the area off limits.
They emerged from the brush into a small clearing. “How much farther?” Roberts asked.
“Maybe five minutes to Lookout Point. If we hurry, maybe we can—”
Two sharp whistles cut through the air.
Roberts inhaled sharply and jerked. He fell to his knees and then tumbled to the ground.
“Roberts!” Kendra gasped.
“Down—” His eyes were fixed on Kendra. His flashlight dropped from his hand. “Get—down.” He rolled over onto his back, his breath catching in a tortured rasping sound.
The beam from his flashlight pierced the darkness where he lay, and then she saw the blood.
Blood everywhere. On his hands, his neck, and spreading across his crisp white shirt…
God, no.
“Hands where I can see them, Kendra.”
She froze. She recognized Dietrich’s British accent immediately. She slowly raised her hands, still not facing him.
“Hand me his gun. And yours.”
She didn’t move, trying to think. Her hand tightened on the flashlight in her hand. “Okay.” Then she shrugged off her jacket and balled it up.
“What the hell are you doing?” Dietrich asked harshly.
“Trying to give him a chance, you son of a bitch. You can see I’m not trying to go for a weapon.”
“Waste of time. He’s a dead man anyway. The guns. Carefully.”
She unsnapped Roberts’s shoulder holster and pulled out his automatic with her thumb and forefinger. The agent desperately shook his head no.
“I have to.” She tossed the gun behind her, then reached into her jacket for her own weapon and tossed it.
“Very good,” Dietrich said. “Now slowly turn around.”
“In a minute.”
“Don’t be stupid, Kendra.”
“In a minute,” she repeated as she knelt beside Roberts. “You’re not going to kill me until you absolutely have to or you would have done it already.” She pressed her balled-up jacket over the agent’s bleeding torso. “Hold this against the wound, Roberts.”
Roberts did as she ordered, a move that caused him