Davis hadn’t told her how long the illegal gun sales had been going on exactly, but it was more than five years, if it had been happening during her dad’s time as CEO, too. Gun manufacturing had always been a separate part of the business from body armor. Yes, there was a certain overlap, but very few lower-level employees would have had access to both sides of the business. And the number of employees who’d been there long enough would dwindle, too.
Leila sighed, realizing that what was terrible for her company—and her conscience—was probably good for the investigation. It narrowed the suspect pool a lot.
It was probably someone she trusted. Someone she’d known for a long time. Someone who’d been to her father’s house over the years. Maybe even someone she’d cried with at her father’s funeral.
The thought made her hands ball into fists. How could someone do this to her father? To her? To all the soldiers who’d been killed and whoever else had been hurt that Leila didn’t even know about yet?
The creak of the walking bridge told her someone else was there. Leila straightened, realizing she’d been so caught up in her thoughts that the person was already upon her.
The sudden, fierce pounding of her heart intensified when his hand came up, the flash of silver telling her he had a gun.
Instinct—and the self-defense training her father had insisted she take before she left for college—took over. Leila’s hand darted up, swatting the gun away as he fired. The shot boomed in her ears, making them ring, as the bullet disappeared somewhere over the water.
The man who’d fired it snarled, surprise in his eyes as he stepped back slightly. Details filled in as time seemed to slow. He was taller than her. White, with brown hair and gray eyes that looked like steel. She didn’t know him.
Then his hand swung back toward her and time sped up again. Instead of turning to run—and surely getting a bullet in the back—she rushed closer, getting inside his range of fire. Twisting sideways, she gripped his gun hand with both of hers, trying to break his grip.
But he was strong. His free hand came up and fisted in her hair, yanking with enough force to send pain racing down her neck.
Her feet went out from under her, but she didn’t let go. She slammed onto the bridge, taking him down with her.
The back of her head pounded and her vision wavered, but she still had his wrist gripped in both of her hands. She twisted in opposite directions and he yelped, but didn’t drop the gun. Yanking her body away from him, she tried to rip it out of his grasp, but he twisted, too, shifting in a different direction.
Then the ground slipped away from her as they both crashed through the flimsy guardrail and dropped into the water below.
Chapter Eleven
Davis didn’t recognize the sound that tore from his throat as Leila and her attacker rolled off the bridge and into the fast-moving water below.
He’d been too far away when the guy had appeared out of nowhere and lifted his gun. He’d been trying to keep his distance, let her come to grips with what was happening in her company without his interference. He’d let her get ahead of him, paused to text Kane and Melinda for an update. He’d spent too many minutes staring impatiently at his phone, waiting for them to reply, then checked his other messages. He’d gotten distracted, and it might have just cost Leila her life.
The thought filled his throat with an angry lump, made it hard to breathe as he ran faster, then dived into the water where Leila and the man had disappeared.
Davis was a strong swimmer. He’d had to learn when he’d become a ranger. But the current was unusually fast, probably because of the storm that had rolled through earlier in the day. It spun him under, then back up again, but he got control of himself quickly.
But someone who wasn’t a good swimmer? It could disorient the person, make them swim down instead of up.
If that person was already frantic and panicked, trying to escape an attacker? It could easily be the difference between living and dying.
“Leila!” he called, scanning the water for her as he let himself be swept forward. He didn’t see her anywhere.
Taking a deep breath, he dived under, looking for any sign of movement. Silently he cursed Leila for the serious, dark clothing she always wore. Why couldn’t she have been partial to red or bright yellow? Something that would have been easier to see in the dark water?
He swam with the current, hoping to spot her, until he ran out of air and popped back to the surface. Then he yelled her name again, his heart going way too fast to be as efficient as he needed it to be right now, to let him search underwater longer.
He sucked in a deep breath, almost took in river water as choppy waves rose again. But even his battle-tested method of self-calming that had gotten him through his most dangerous ranger missions wasn’t working.
Where was she?
He couldn’t be too late. He refused to believe it.
But he still couldn’t see her. If she’d been underwater this long, it probably wasn’t of her own choosing.
Panic threatened, but he refused to accept defeat. Then, the current swept him around a bend and there she was, fifty feet ahead of him, still grappling with the guy who’d attacked her.
Davis forced himself forward in a burst of speed, trying to get to them. Fury fueled him as his gaze locked on the man still trying to harm her. The man Davis was going to strangle if he succeeded.
It felt like an hour, but he knew it was less than a minute before he reached them. But just before he could tear the guy’s hands away from Leila’s throat, her fist came up, angled skyward, and
