Goddess of Justice Dwayne Clayden (i read book .TXT) 📖

already dropping. It would be another minus twenty-five Fahrenheit night.

Lobo raced to the back of the car and sniffed the trunk. He crawled under the back of the vehicle, slid out and sniffed the trunk again.

His head swiveled to the right and stared down the lane. His hackles shot up and he barked. He jumped on his front paws, barking continuously, backing toward Annie. Then he circled her, barking in all directions.

Annie heard branches rustle. Coyote? Wolf? Bear?

Lobo was frantic, barking out into the night. Flashlights shone on her from all sides. “Police! On your knees. On your knees! Now.”

Annie knelt.

“Hands on your head. Don’t move.”

Lobo stood in front of Annie, teeth bared.

“Call the dog off,” a deep voice ordered.

“Screw you,” she shouted. “Identify yourself.”

A large man stepped toward her out of the bright lights and the deep voice spoke again. “Call the dog off.”

“Who are you?” She stared into the glare of several flashlights.

“Royal Canadian Mounted Police. Last chance.” The deep voice was confident. “Call the dog off or I shoot.”

The fuckin’ Mounties? Emergency Response Team. Their version of SWAT. Of course. Brad lived outside the city. “I don’t know if he’ll listen.”

“Last chance.”

“Lobo, off,” Annie pleaded. She had to get Lobo to settle. She knew they’d shoot. “Please, Lobo, off.”

Lobo stopped barking and sat in front of her. Several figures in dark blue tactical gear came out of the darkness. A loop on a pole was slipped over Lobo’s head. He spun and barked and tried to bite the loop around his neck. The pole was twisted, and Lobo flopped onto his side. A black hood was placed over his head. Lobo fought vigorously, but the pole kept him at a distance from the Mounties.

“What the hell do you want?” Annie shouted as she stood.

“Stay on the ground,” a deep voice said. “Where’s Coulter?”

“I have no clue.”

The cop, dressed in dark gray tactical gear with sergeant’s stripes lowered his flashlight, rifle at his side, and stared down at Annie. “His car is at your apartment.”

“He came by to visit.” Annie shrugged. “He does that regularly.”

“Where is he now?”

“He’s not there?” Annie grinned at the Mountie.

“No. Only his car.” He knelt in front of Annie. “Stop jerking me around.”

“I’m answering your questions.” She glanced behind her at the small farmhouse. “Did you check the house already?”

“Yeah. He’ll need a new door.”

The Mountie stood and waved to two tactical cops dressed in gray standing behind him. He nodded toward the car. “Check the trunk. Pry it open if you have to.”

“Hey, don’t wreck my car,” Annie pleaded. “Take the keys. They’re in my purse on the front seat.”

She heard the driver’s door open, then the trunk pop. “He’s not here, boss.”

“Shit,” the Mountie sergeant said. “Cuff her.”

A Mountie yanked Annie’s arms behind her back and slapped on handcuffs. He lifted her by her arms and shoved her toward the house. She stepped over the damaged front door and destroyed frame.

“Brad will be pissed.”

“Like I care.” The Mountie shoved her into a chair. Two men wearing black balaclavas stood before her—RCMP ERT patches on their shoulders.

“I don’t know you,” Annie said. “But you know who I am. And understand that Brad will be madder about what you did to Lobo than to me. I wouldn’t want to be in your boots.”

“I’m shitting bricks,” the Mountie closest said.

“Enough trash talk,” the sergeant growled. “Where’s Coulter?”

“I don’t know.” Annie sighed. “I don’t know any other way to say it. Why?”

“He’s wanted for murder.”

Brad watched from the door of the ancient barn. There was nothing he could do. ERT were doing their job, but he still wanted to kick their asses—although Annie was giving them a nasty time. He heard her call Lobo off. The German shepherd yelped, then barked again, but it was muffled.

Fuckers.

He peeked around the garage—they’d put a hood over Lobo’s head and had him on a tether pole.

I’ll kill them.

Brad had hoped he’d have more time.

Archer had called the RCMP and ERT had arrived in record time.

Brad’s jaw clenched and his pulse pounded in his temples as they handcuffed Annie and led her into the house. There was nothing he could do.

ERT fanned out around the house. They hadn’t started clearing the dilapidated out-buildings.

The RCMP had made two mistakes. First, they didn’t bring K9. That meant they were hunting in the dark. Second, they had no clue what the lay of the land was. They didn’t have time before they got here. That was all the advantage he’d need.

He rolled the old truck out of the barn. It wasn’t registered, the plates were expired, but it was a vehicle they couldn’t link to him. This was no time to play hide and seek until they left. He needed to leave. Annie could hold her own.

He picked his broken tactical knife and slid it into a parka pocket. With one hand on the steering wheel and his shoulder on the doorframe, he pushed the truck toward the hill. Once the truck had momentum, he jumped in and steered as best he could without power. The truck rolled down the hill in darkness to a road about a half-mile from his house. He started the engine but kept the lights off. As he drove away from his farm, he saw two black SUVs blocking the lane. No one was going in or out that way. Rookies. The farm had dozens of exits. Not that Brad could make a high-speed, but tonight the truck would do.

As clouds crossed the moon, the road was illuminated, but Brad was well out of sight. He glanced at the passenger seat and wished he had Lobo with him.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Archer stood over his desk, phone to his ear. He listened for a minute, slammed the receiver down, and leaned on his desk. “Damn.”

Jackson wasn’t sure if he should ask what happened.

Archer took a deep breath and sat. “Coulter eluded us.” He lowered his head and slid his fingers through his hair.

Jackson, the man, was