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enough of this.” She waved a dismissive hand.

“Mrs. McElroy, we just need to know where your husband is,” Morris pleaded. “I promise, if Sean is innocent, we will clear his name and let him go. We just need to know where they might have headed.”

For the last thirty seconds, she’d been pacing back and forth behind the sofa. The dog stared at her with big, droopy eyes, wondering what was going on. After another few steps, she stopped. “I don’t know where he is.” Her face was one of resigned honesty. “But I do know this, if I did know, I wouldn’t tell you. My husband hasn’t done anything wrong, and neither has Sean Wyatt.”

“Your husband is aiding a fugitive of justice and…” Will started in angrier than Trent had ever seen.

“Mrs. McElroy,” Morris cut off his partner, “we thank you for your time. If you do find out where your husband might be and you change your mind, please let us know.” He produced a business card from his wallet. “Just call my cell phone if you need anything. We’re just trying to figure this out. Okay?” Will slunk back a little, understanding Trent was pulling rank.

This seemed to settle her down a little; she took the card and nodded.

“Thank you. We’ll leave you alone, ma’am. We really would appreciate any help you can give us.”

The two men stood and walked toward the door. As Will opened it and walked across the threshold, she stopped them. “Officers,” her voice was firm but had become pleasant again, “I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just that we’ve known Sean a long time. And I know that he wouldn’t do anything like what you’re sayin’. But if I had to guess, knowin’ him, I’d bet Sean was tryin’ to find his friend.”

The two detectives looked at each other, then Trent said, “You mean trying to find Schultz?”

She gave a quick nod. “Those two have been like peas in a pod since the day they met. If something happened to one of ‘em, it happened to both. Know what I’m sayin’?”

Trent acknowledged the statement with an understanding smile as the two of them turned and ambled back down the steps to their cars. Mrs. McElroy stood in the doorway to the cabin with the floppy-eared dog standing by her side watching the men as they got in their cars and took off down the driveway.

36

Blue Ridge Mountains

Joe guided the pickup truck back up the street toward where the Hummer was parked. As they slowly rounded the curve, he could see that the three men who had been over by the caged boulders before were nearly back to their vehicle. Walking casually toward it, they were completely unaware of any possible threat.

Sean held down his emotions as he saw Tommy escorted by a tall blond male, probably mid- to late thirties and a tree trunk of a man, shorter, but much thicker.

“I see ‘em,” Joe confirmed what Sean was thinking.

No response came from the back as they approached where the four men were now standing together in the parking lot. They looked startled as Joe slowed the truck to a stop right behind the black SUV. “Excuse me, fellas,” he said in what was definitely a deeper Southern accent than he normally used. “Ya’ll don’t happen to know where the Apple Festival is, do ya?”

Tommy stood absolutely still, recognizing the face of his old friend Joe McElroy. Where was Sean? If Joe was there, then Sean had to be close by.

The two muscular guards looked questioningly at the tall blond, who was apparently in charge of the whole operation. No one said a word. Finally, the blond man simply shook his head.

“I think we might have taken a wrong turn,” Joe went on, trying to stay cool. He reached down and pulled up a sheet of paper. “These directions are a little vague.”

All four of the men standing on the asphalt were staring at the paper in the driver’s hand when suddenly, the loud pop of a gun erupted from the direction of the truck bed. Four more shots followed almost instantly. The short, flattopped man at the front of the entourage collapsed backward, three bullet holes grouped in the center of his chest. The surprise on the faces of the other three disappeared quickly as the larger, suited man jerked his weapon from its holster and dropped the bag he’d been carrying.

Another two shots fired from around the front of the truck, one striking the big man in the arm. He seemed unaffected as a volley returned from his black firearm, drilling holes into the side of the truck.

Joe ducked down below the window just seconds before a bullet zipped over his head.

Allyson risked popping around the grill of the pickup to squeeze off a few more shots at the tall guard. The man noticed her too late as he took a round in the chest and stumbled backward into the open passenger door of the big SUV.

The blond man had grabbed Tommy as soon as the bullets started flying and was holding him around the neck as a human shield, gun extended toward the attackers.

Upon seeing his subordinates taken down, he fired off three quick shots at the driver of the pickup truck. The bullets thudded into the door as the man behind the wheel stayed down to avoid the barrage.

Instantly, the blond man turned toward the truck bed where the initial shots had been fired and launched a brutal retaliation, sending more rounds pinging into the metal. As he backed up toward the front of the SUV, he sent two bullets at the woman who jerked back behind the cover of the pickup’s engine.

Sean knew

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