Run, Hide - By Carol Ericson Page 0,56
locked the car doors before he planted his feet on the ground, and then shut the door behind him as quietly as he could.
Holding his weapon in front of him with both hands, he crept toward the propped-open door. His nostrils flared. Was that gunpowder?
His grip tightened on his gun and he threw a glance over his shoulder at the dimly lit parking lot. No other cars squealing into the lot, no stealthy figures creeping around—except him.
He tapped the barrel of his gun against the door, leaned his shoulder against it and eased it open. The smell of gunpowder permeated the air even more in this enclosed space, and his heart thudded against his rib cage.
Long-forgotten papers and registers littered the gray, metal shelves lining the office. A single green-shaded lamp burned on the battered desk and more papers, neatly stacked this time, were lined up in a row on the desktop.
Pushing the door wider, he stepped into the room. The door creaked, announcing his presence, so he called out. “Hello?”
A moan answered him.
His mouth dry and his pulse racing, Cade stepped around the desk and froze.
The body of a man lay sprawled across the cement floor, blood meandering away from his head.
Now he knew why it smelled like gunpowder.
Chapter Fourteen
The man was dead. Cade could tell that from here. The moan hadn’t come from him.
Cade shifted his gaze to the figure of a woman crumpled against the wall, her head tilted to the side. One leg, stretched in front of her, jerked and she moaned again.
Cade backed up against the wall, his gun tracking from side to side in the small office. A window in the office faced the darkened warehouse. The grubby door next to the window sported a dead bolt. Nobody would be coming in from the warehouse.
He turned back to the entryway to get a clear view of the parking lot and his car. It looked empty. Jenna was doing a good job of keeping herself and Gavin hidden from view, but he didn’t want her out there on her own.
Not with a killer in the vicinity.
He glanced at the woman—must be Beth. He’d help her once he secured Jenna and Gavin.
He jogged back to the car, his gaze constantly darting around the parking lot. He tapped on the window, and
Jenna’s head popped up. He pointed to the lock and she reached over and unlocked the car.
He stuck his head inside. “We’ve got a problem. I need your help.”
Her eyes took over her face. “What’s wrong?”
“Bring Gavin and come inside.”
She clambered out of the car first and scooped up a drowsy Gavin.
He didn’t want Gavin to see Jeff Curson dead on the floor of the office. How many dead bodies could a kid see in one week before he started putting two and two together?
Gripping Jenna by the arm, he led her into the office and pointed to the swivel chair behind the desk. “Park Gavin in that chair.”
Gavin curled his legs beneath him, folding an arm beneath his head—not sleeping, but close enough.
Jenna’s face paled before she even peered around the desk. “What’s that smell?”
“The gunpowder?”
She shook her head, wrinkling her nose. “It’s...it’s...” She covered her mouth with her hand as she stepped past him into the office. “Blood.”
Cade pulled the office door shut with a click and locked it behind him. Now they couldn’t be ambushed in here.
Jenna seemed fixated on Jeff’s corpse, so Cade nudged her side. “Beth’s in the corner and she’s still alive.”
Jenna jerked her head to the right. “Oh, my God. Why haven’t you helped her?”
She rushed to Beth and crouched down beside her.
“I didn’t want to leave you and Gavin in the car after I discovered this scene. I wanted to secure us inside first. How is she?”
Jenna’s fingers tapped around Beth’s head. “Looks like a head injury from behind—a blow to the head.”
“She was moaning before.” Cade finally kneeled on the cold floor next to Jeff and felt for his nonexistent pulse.
“Beth? Beth? Can you hear me?”
Beth gasped and sobbed.
“It’s okay. You’re okay.” Jenna twisted her head over her shoulder. “Do you have any bandages in the car? Can you get a bottle of water?”
Cade patted Jeff’s pockets. Jeff’s holster was still strapped to his body, his weapon secured. He hadn’t been expecting whatever calamity befell him tonight.
Cade jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the half-empty, five-gallon water bottle on its stand. “Use that.”
“It’s not very sterile.”
“I think it’s more important now to staunch any bleeding.” He