Running Blind

“I understand that you want your friend’s killer to go to jail, but you have to understand that the likelihood of that happening is slim to none.”

“Did you think that’s what I was going to ask you to do? Go after her killer?” She turned and they were inches apart, her hair dark with rain, her skin dewy. Long lashes brushed her cheeks as she blinked, and Nikolai found himself being pulled into her gaze, losing himself in the pale blue of her eyes.

“Is there something else that you need?”

“Magdalena was a woman of faith. She was committed to God, to her family and to humanity in that order. She never, ever would have done anything that would hurt another person. Ever. Now people are talking about her as if all the things she did while she was alive mean nothing.”

“The circumstances of her death were unusual.”

“That doesn’t mean she was guilty of a crime.”

“What is it that you want me to do, Jenna?”

“I want you to prove that Magdalena had nothing to do with the Mexican Panthers.”

“That’s a tall order.”

“You seem like the kind of person who would be up for the challenge.”

Nikolai could have said no. He’d said it before to other people in other situations. As sorry as he felt for Magdalena’s family, he could have walked away, let things play out however they would. It was the responsibility of the Mexican police and the DEA to uncover the truth about why Magdalena had been executed.

He could have said no, but he’d always liked a challenge, and he’d always had a passion for the truth. And he found he couldn’t look in Jenna’s eyes, couldn’t see the sorrow there and deny her request.

“I can’t promise you anything.”

“I don’t need promises.”

“Then I guess I’m your man,” he said, before he could think better of it.

“Thanks.” Jenna smiled, shivering again as the wind blew more rain under the porch.

“Thank me after I’ve done the job. Come on. We’d better go in before you freeze.” He took her hand, started to lead her back to the door. A sharp crack split the air, and Nikolai dove for cover, grabbing Jenna by the waist and pulling her down, covering her body with his as another crack followed the first. Dirt and grass flew into his face, water and mud splashing into his eyes. He blinked it away, scanning the area beyond the porch. Trees lined the back edge of the property, and he was sure he saw someone there.

“What’s going on? Is everything okay?” Someone called out from the house, and the figure in the trees moved away.

“You okay?” Nikolai looked down into Jenna’s face.

“I will be once I can breathe again.”

“Sorry.” He stood, searching the tree line again, tracking the figure. “Go in the house, okay?”

“What—”

“Have someone call the police. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Nik—”

He didn’t wait to hear what Jenna said. The shooter had disappeared, and if Nikolai planned to catch him, the time for doing so was now.

And he did plan to catch him.

Jenna had escaped death in Mexico, but it seemed that it was hunting her again. Why?

It was a question only the gunman could answer, and Nikolai had every intention of making sure he did.

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