“Perhaps it’s a domestic dispute,” Ray said. “This isn’t matching up.”
Zander listened intently to his phone as Mason watched him in the rearview mirror. Abruptly his gaze jumped to meet Mason’s. “Where’s Ava?” Zander blurted.
Mason’s heart stopped as he tried to get his thoughts in order. He looked at his watch. “Yoga. Or else home. She was going to try—holy fuck!”
Yoga. Mall.
He spun around in his seat. “What’s going on?”
“I’ve got a report that the pursued woman has shouted that she’s an FBI agent.”
Her lungs begged for oxygen.
Ava ran. She’d started toward the busier section of the Rivertown Mall, but changed direction when he started to shoot. “Get away,” she’d shrieked at casual strolling shoppers. “FBI agent! Get down!” She heard a shot and glanced over as a security guard collapsed. She couldn’t lead him into crowds, so she darted down a quieter alley between two stores, knowing it fed into a narrow back road that led to the parking lot of the home improvement store next door. Its parking lot was always less crowded than the mall’s, and her immediate goal was to get the shooter away from targets.
He shot at her twice. She zigged and zagged a little, knowing how hard it was to shoot accurately while running. Her best bet was to put as much room as possible between the two of them. A rapid glance back showed her he was in pursuit. She cranked up her speed, thankful she had on good exercise shoes instead of flip-flops.
Get away from people. Hide!
She was unarmed, her weapon locked in her vehicle.
Her legs pumped automatically as she scanned her path for a place to hide. She’d felt his hate and intent the instant they’d locked gazes. The man was a predator and somehow she’d ended up on his list like the other women.
Why me?
She sped behind the buildings of the mall, passing the employee entrances and delivery docks. The sun had gone down behind the trees, and her way was lit by the stark lighting intended to keep trespassers away from the rear of the mall. She didn’t try the doors, worried they’d be locked, wasting her time. The slap of his running footsteps sounded in her ears, and she gave another burst of speed. Her path opened up into the parking lot of the home improvement store. A few cars dotted it.
Closed?
The huge sign at the end of the parking lot was off. I thought these places never closed.
Confusion jumbled her brain. Hide. She scanned the lot as she ran at full speed. Adjacent to the big orange building was the garden supply area with its chain-link fence. Hide. She veered toward the fence, his steps still pounding behind her. Planters and sheds and barbecues lined the front of the store.
A shot made her ears ring.
She changed direction toward the front of the store as she spotted a chain and lock wrapped around the gate to the garden center. Can’t get through.
Behind her she heard him swear and stumble. She stole a backward glance and saw him sprawl face first across the blacktop of the parking lot. She turned up her speed and darted behind the closest shed along the front of the store. He shouted and a shot ricocheted off a riding lawn mower in front of the garden center. She bent over and ran along the front of the big store, hiding behind the lines of barbecues and displays of granite for countertops. Heart pounding, she stopped behind a pallet of fertilizer bags and tried to think coherently.
The store was closed.
To her right, past the garden center, was more parking lot and closed office buildings. To her left was the lumber section and the loading docks of the store, and she didn’t know what was beyond that. Roads and businesses? All deserted because of the late hour?
No weapon. No backup.
At least I got him away from the crowds.
Her best bet was to hide. The chain link fence around the garden center rattled as someone shook its gate just yards to her right. She caught her breath and sprinted to pass the front doors of the store and head for the lumber side of the store, hoping to find a hiding place near the loading docks. Shots splintered the glass front doors and an alarm sounded inside the building. She turned and flung herself through the shattered doors. Her feet knocked the safety glass out of the lower third of the door and she tripped. She landed on her hands and knees, the glass chunks digging into her flesh, and fought to catch her breath. From the corner of her eye, she saw a woman in an orange employee apron step out of an aisle. “Get down,” she screamed at the woman as she scrambled to her feet, pain forgotten. The alarm resonated through the store, bouncing off the concrete floor and high metal ceiling. Ava dashed straight ahead, down a wide aisle, and took the first right.
She ran, searching for a hiding spot and a weapon. Ahead were automatic glass doors that led out to the fenced garden center. Not wanting to trip the doors and cause them to move, she took a hard left.
Garden tools.
She slammed to a stop and reached for the thickest wooden-handled tool. She hefted the shovel and eyed the other tools. The alarm stopped and instantly a gunshot echoed through the building.
Did he make someone turn off the alarm?
A woman started to scream. Painful, terror-stricken screams. Back in her corner of the store, Ava’s breathing was racked and loud, and the woman’s shrieks made her want to climb the walls. She tried to breathe more quietly and dark spots formed at the edges of her vision. Screaming means she’s not dead. She set the shovel back as a wicked long tool with forked spikes and a narrow chiseled blade on one end caught her eye. It looked like a weapon from a zombie-killing flick.