The truck jumped and wobbled.
“The better to shoot someone with.” April grabbed the gun with two hands. “Loaded?”
“What would be the point otherwise?” He pushed the barrel of the gun toward the windshield. “Only take a shot if the car comes up beside us.”
“He may not have to come up beside us.” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder. “If he comes up behind us and shoots out the other tire...or the driver, we’re in trouble.”
The truck bucked against his control and he smelled burning rubber. “C’mon, baby. Keep going.”
“Only a few miles to your place, Clay.” She smacked the dashboard. “We can make it.”
“There has to be more than one person ambushing us. They gotta know I’ll be armed, and they’re prepared to take me on.”
“Us. They’re taking us on.”
The truck protested, rattling and weaving the remaining miles to his house, but they made it and he hadn’t seen a return of the headlights in the rearview. Of course, their attackers could’ve killed their lights and be rolling toward them right now under the cover of the velvety blackness of the desert.
He turned into his driveway in a hail of dust, grit and smoke. He held out his hand. “Give me the gun, gunslinger.”
April turned the butt toward him. “Are we going to stay here and wait for them?”
“Are you nuts?” He snapped his door handle. “I’ll come out first and cover you into the house. We lock the door, and wait for them behind it. Get down.”
He slammed the door as April’s head disappeared. Squinting down the road, he circled the car and opened the passenger door.
“Let’s go.” He took April’s arm as she slid from the truck. He pushed her forward in a crouch and protected her body with his like a shell, curving over her, one arm extended behind him, his hand clutching his gun.
They stumbled up the porch, passing the spot where the pink hatbox had rested only a few days ago, and a hot rage thumped against Clay’s temples. He’d kill any man who came for April.
When they reached the front door, red and blue lights bathed the house and a highway patrol car squealed into his driveway behind the lopsided truck.
Clay shoved his weapon into the back of his waistband and raised his hand, blinking into the lights.
An officer eased out of the driver’s seat, his flashlight already playing across the truck’s rim. “You the ones who called 911?”
“We are.” Clay pressed his keys into April’s hands. “Open the door and turn on the floodlights for the driveway.”
April pushed through the front door and flicked on the lights.
With the scene lit up, Clay took a step down the porch. “Someone back there at mile marker 11 shot out my back window and my left rear tire. I kept the truck on the road and made it home.”
“Did they come after you?” The officer shoved his flashlight into the equipment belt hanging low on his hips.
The other patrol officer crouched next to the back wheel and whistled. “Looks like you made it just in time. This rim is destroyed.”
Clay took another step forward. “Officer, I’m Clay Archer, Border Patrol. I have a weapon in my waistband.”
The officer studying the wheel popped up. “I know you. Female mule’s head was left on your porch. This porch.”
“That’s right.” Clay felt April behind him, breathing heavily. “You didn’t see another car on the road?”
“We didn’t, but it could’ve been hiding in the grove. We radioed for another car. They’re doing a search now.”
“Do you want to come inside to take a statement?” Clay tipped his head at the open door, April in the frame.
Denali had come to the door to investigate the commotion. He sniffed at the officers’ heels when they came into the house and then sat beside April, who rested her hand on his head.
Apparently, the dog was a better protector than he was. He’d allowed them to get too close to April. Had they been hoping to take him out and kidnap her to force her deadbeat brother to turn over the flash drive?
Did they ever have the wrong guy. Clay had no doubt in his mind that Adam wouldn’t turn over the drive to save his sister or anyone else—but they didn’t know that.
Clay cleared his throat and answered the officers’ questions, indicating that this latest incident had roots in the drug trade and the two dead mules.
He avoided talking about the flash drive because pointing the finger at Adam and getting the police involved wasn’t going to help April.
He didn’t give a damn about Adam at this point.
He and April took the authorities through the chain of events on the road and Clay allowed them in his truck to look for the bullet that had crashed through his back windshield.
They found it lodged in the dashboard, and the anger and stress gripped Clay by the back of the neck. That bullet could’ve found its way into April’s head.
When the officers left and he and April stepped back into the house, Clay shut the door and wedged a hand against it. “I’m not letting you go home to stay there by yourself. You’re going to stay here tonight.”
“Gladly.” She entwined her arms around his neck. “But I hope you have some beers in the fridge because I need something to take this edge off.”
“I’m with you there.” He made a detour to his laptop. “I’m going to check the security footage just to see if anyone’s been creeping around my house.”
“I’ll get the beers.” She disappeared into the kitchen and said, “There’s one road to and from your house. They didn’t even have to know where we were to wait for us.”
“You’re right, and everything looks quiet on the security cam.”
She emerged from the kitchen, a bottle of beer in each hand. She thrust one at him. “Here you go. I don’t like
