Chapter One
The shot cracked through the air. Mercy. That was definitely not what Marshal Chase Crockett wanted to hear.
Or see.
The bullet slammed into the woman heâd just spotted. Her gaze connected with Chaseâs a split second before she crumpled to the ground.
If she wasnât dead, she soon would be. Chase was sure of it.
He cursed when he couldnât go out in the clearing where sheâd fallen and pull her out of the path of more gunfire. Cursed, too, that he hadnât been able to stop that bullet from hitting her in the first place.
How the devil had this happened?
He didnât have time to try to figure that out because the next bullet came right at him, and Chase had no choice but to dive behind a pile of rocks. Maybe heâd get a chance soon to return fire and make the shooter pay for what he had just done.
And what heâd done was shoot the criminal informant, Deanne McKinley, on the banks of Appaloosa Creek. A woman who had phoned Chase earlier and begged him to help her. If heâd just gotten her call a few minutes sooner, maybe he could have arrived in time to stop this.
Whatever this was.
Clearly, someone wanted Deanne dead, and now whoever had attacked her was shooting at Chase, too.
âIf you want to get out of this alive, you might as well give up now,â the gunman shouted.
Chase didnât recognize the voice, but heâd caught a glimpse of a guy wearing a ski mask before the man shot Deanne and then darted out of sight. He wasnât even sure if the idiot was yelling at him or Deanne. Chase didnât have nearly enough info, other than the call a half hour ago from Deanne to tell him she was in trouble. She said someone was trying to kill her, that she needed his help.
Help was exactly what Chase had intended to give her when heâd arrived.
So far, all heâd managed to do was dodge bullets, but if he had anything to say about that, things were about to change.
Chase heard Deanneâs hoarse moan, and she moved her hand to her chest. Alive. He had to do something now to keep it that way.
He didnât know the exact location of the shooter, but Chase fired two shots in the guyâs general direction. In the same motion, he scrambled toward Deanne to try to pull her away.
Basically, it was a high-risk move with little chance of succeeding.
Or at least it should have been.
But another set of shots blasted through the air. Definitely not ones that Chase or the gunman had fired. Theyâd come from a cluster of trees about thirty feet away, and the bullets had been aimed at the shooter.
Maybe backup had arrived a little sooner than Chase had thought it would. Or it could be a hunter or nearby rancher whoâd heard sounds of the attack and had come to help. Either way, heâd take it.
Chase grabbed hold of Deanneâs arm and pulled her behind a tree. It wasnât much cover, but it was better than leaving her out in the open.
He fired off another shot to keep the gunman at bay and sent a quick text requesting an ambulance along with the backup. It would likely be one of his brothers who responded to his request since all three of them were in local law enforcement. Chase only hoped the backup and the ambulance arrived in time.
Itâd be close.
Deanne was bleeding out from the gunshot sheâd taken to the chest. Chase did his best to add some pressure to the wound, but it was hard to do that without constricting her breathing. He didnât want her to suffocate.
More shots came from the gunman.
The idiot was moving closer to them, no doubt coming in for the kill.
Deanne mumbled something, something that Chase didnât catch, and without taking his attention off the area where the shooter was positioned, he leaned in closer, hoping to hear what Deanne was trying to say.