Star Witness - By Mallory Kane Page 0,33

the raincoat heard her. He was so close that she imagined she could hear his heaving breaths over the downpour. Letting Harte know her location was her only chance.

“Harte!” she shouted again, but her voice was gobbled up by thunder. Then a strong hand grabbed the back of her shirt and jerked her off her feet.

Chapter Nine

Harte heard Dani’s terrified scream, cut off by thunder, but he couldn’t tell where she was. He’d been retracing his steps ever since he lost hold of her hand. She should have been only a few feet behind him, if she’d stayed put. She must have gotten turned around and been moving away from him all this time.

He heard another short cry. Had they found her? He pushed forward, praying that the shriek he’d heard had just been her startled reaction to the thunder and lightning.

Then he saw it. A big black shadow, rising out of the mist. The car. He slowed down, cautiously keeping an eye on it. Then he detected another difference in the constant gray of rain and wind. He wiped his face, then blinked. He saw movement. Something large and brown and vaguely human shaped. It had to be one of Yeoman’s men.

Did he have Dani? Harte couldn’t tell. He moved slowly and steadily toward the man, hoping not to attract notice. But then he caught a splash of red—her shirt. Adrenaline burned through him like flaming jet fuel.

The man did have her. He was dragging her toward the car.

Harte had only one chance and it was a slim one. Balancing himself on his right foot, he dove, aiming at the man’s knees. He hit what felt like solid rock. The impact rattled his teeth and echoed in his head, but the man fell like a dead tree, slamming into the pavement.

Harte ducked and rolled out of his way. He came to rest not ten inches from the front fender of the car. It was smashed and the headlights were broken—damaged, no doubt, from ramming Dani’s front porch. Glancing over his shoulder, Harte saw the big man flip over onto his stomach. He waved his arms and legs like a turtle, trying to get his hands underneath him. Too soon, the man managed to get to his hands and knees. He shook his massive head and made a noise that echoed through the pounding rain like a lion’s roar. Then he propelled himself forward.

Harte scrambled to his feet. The goon had brute strength going for him, but he was about as graceful as a bull elephant. Harte heard his sawing breaths coming closer and closer.

Harte waited until the last possible second, hoping that the other man was as disoriented by the rain as he was, before diving out of the way. Luckily, the brute had built up enough momentum that he couldn’t stop. He obviously counted on Harte to break his fall. He hit the ground, hard.

Harte regained his balance and looked inside the attacker’s car. It was empty. Dani wasn’t there. Hot fear pulsed through him. Where was she? Did one of the other men have her?

And where were the other three men?

Were they on foot, sneaking around to ambush him, or had they taken Dani somewhere? As he turned, he caught a glimpse of a dark figure rising from behind a trash receptacle. Another man rose right beside him. Before he could react, both men lifted their arms and he heard the unmistakable crack of gunfire muffled by the rain. Before the shots faded, he heard Dani scream behind him.

“Dani!” he yelled, whirling and spotting a splash of red through the gray curtain of rain. It was Dani! She was on the ground, several feet away from the car. His gut clenched. Had she been hit?

He sprang toward her, wrapping his fingers around her upper arm and yanking her upright, quickly scanning her clothes for blood. He didn’t see any. “Are you hit?” he yelled.

“No!” She shook her head. “Are you?”

Behind them, he heard car doors opening and closing. He tried to count, but the sounds were too muffled by the storm. Maybe two, maybe three. The men had gotten back into the car.

“They’re in the car. Run!” he shouted before pumping his legs, pulling her with him. Behind them, more gunshots rang out and he heard men shouting. He pulled her behind a parked van.

“Get that shirt off!” he cried.

“What? My shirt?”

He turned her around and grabbed the collar, jerking it over her head. “It’s too bright.”

After