“What the hell?” Instantly panicked, Bud bobbed and weaved in place. “Why’s a counterman shooting at us?”
Ryder took him to the floor, and then flipped the table onto its side for cover. Another blast of buckshot peppered the oilcloth top.
“Call 911, Mia.” Pulling the gun from his waistband, he prepared to draw the counterman’s fire. “Tell whoever responds that we probably interrupted an armed robbery.”
“Figures we’d bump into a thief in counterman’s clothing.” Mia punched the number with a vengeance. “I hate to think how horrible this day would’ve been without a gris-gris.”
Beside her, Bud and his wife plastered themselves to the floor. “What’s happening?” Bud croaked. “Who is that guy?”
“An imposter,” Mia said, and then winced and ducked. “Apparently.”
“Where’s the real diner guy? Dead?” His voice rose to a near squeal. “Do you think he’s dead?”
Mia shook her head. “I don’t know.” She turned her attention back to the phone. “Yes, I said an armed robbery.” A pair of shots rang out. “Extremely armed.”
“Suzy-Lynn, you get your lard ass out here and help me,” the fake counterman yelled. He squeezed off two more rounds.
“Deputy Sheriff’s coming.” On her stomach, Mia sidled closer to Bud. “Do you have a gun?”
“In the van. I can’t—I’m sorry.”
“It’s a lot to take in,” she agreed. “Stay down, okay?”
Drawing the Magnum from her shoulder bag, she eased up just far enough to see. What she saw was the armed robber take aim at Ryder. He squeezed the trigger as Ryder did, froze for a moment, and then slithered boneless out of sight behind the counter.
With a big exhale, Mia relaxed her wrists on the edge of the table.
“Is it over?” Bud warbled after a long pause.
“I’m thinking not,” Mia told him. She arched her brows at Ryder who was crouched behind a table to her right. “Who’s Suzy-Lynn?”
Even as she spoke, a shrieking woman with bright red hair burst through the kitchen door. Arms waving wildly, she released a stream of bullets from her 9mm automatic.
“Don’t move.” Ryder slapped a fresh cartridge into his Glock.
The woman heard him and spun. Her face furious, she put two bullets into his table. While Suzy-Lynn was diverted, Mia steadied one hand on the other and fired. With a sideways jerk, the woman turned, smiled and raised her arm.
Mia had the trigger of her gun half-squeezed when she heard Ryder’s shot.
Suzy-Lynn’s smile transformed into an expression of astonishment. Her weapon clattered to the floor. She joined it with a thud. Curling into a ball, she panted in short, groaning gasps.
Five tense seconds ticked by.
“Is it over now?” A wobbly Bud tried again. “’Cause I think my bladder might’ve let go.”
Ryder crossed to check on Suzy-Lynn while Mia stood and helped Tina—ghost white and shaking in spasms—to her feet.
“Not a bad shot, Mia.” Ryder tucked the Glock back into his jeans. “You hit her shoulder.”
“Yes, her left shoulder. She’s right-handed.”
“Point is, you didn’t kill her.”
“I didn’t slow her down much either.”
He grinned. “You did enough.”
Had she? Mia blocked the picture of Helene Dubose’s dying face and replaced it with Bud’s blotchy red one as he attempted to cover the wet patch on the front of his shorts.
In the end, both of the would-be thieves survived. Ryder discovered the real husband-and-wife owners bound and gagged with duct tape in the kitchen. The woman had a black eye, and the man’s knuckles were swollen. Otherwise, neither appeared injured.
The deputy sheriff arrived within ten minutes. Mia didn’t hold out a great deal of hope for the efficiency of a man named Boswell Hogg; however, he did his job well and actually showed less disdain for the armed robbers than he did for the diner’s greasy-haired male owner.
With four paramedics working at cross purposes, a single functioning ambulance, Bud talking a mile a minute and the diner’s owner threatening to sue everyone in sight, the place was in turmoil for well over an hour.
“I contacted the state office,” Hogg told Ryder. “There’s a trooper en route. Meantime, I’ve got your statements and theirs.” He nodded at Bud and Tina. “If you’re in a hurry, I’m not looking to waylay a government agent, especially a fed. I pay my taxes every year like any other law-abiding citizen.” His brown eyes twinkled. “Mostly pay ’em, anyway.”
Mia wandered off while Hogg and Ryder finished their conversation.
The clouds overhead resembled swollen black bruises and made her think of the female diner owner’s injured eye. Men could be bastards sometimes. But not always, she reflected, with a glance back at Ryder.
Tall, dark, hot, and good with a gun. As bodyguards went, she could do a lot worse.
Which left them where? She wondered. Not involved, that’s for sure. Certainly not for any length of time. Sex—assuming they got that far—would be better if she let her feelings weigh in, but the truth was, neither of them could afford to get tangled up in emotions that would have nowhere to go once Helene’s murderer was apprehended.
And wasn’t that a depressing thought?
Looking around, she noticed that the trees between the shed and the edge of the swamp no longer moved. Nothing did. Even the gator she’d heard earlier had lapsed into silence.
On the road ahead, a white SUV rolled to a halt. A state trooper climbed out, smiled and strolled toward her.
“You part of this ruckus I’ve been hearing about nonstop on my radio?”
“More of an unwilling participant.” Mia caught her reflection in his mirrored sunglasses and sighed. Her hair looked like she’d been standing in a wind sock. Using her fingers, she combed it into place. “You’ll want to talk to Ryder and Deputy Hogg. They’re back at the diner.”
The trooper’s smile broadened. “Bet they’re not as pretty as you. I’m having a pisser of a day.”
She scanned the darkening sky. “It’s not going to get any better either, weather-wise. Rain’s coming.”
She searched her purse for a brush as she spoke. If she hadn’t had her head bent, she might not have noticed his gloved left fingers–—or rather the ring finger of the glove that had no actual finger inside it.
Slippery knots formed in her stomach. Her heart struggled to beat, and her mind threatened to go blank.
In spite of that, she said, “I must have left it in the truck. Brush,” she added. Her breath hitched as his smile slipped away. “There was a scuffle in the diner—Damn!”
The teeth that appeared were bared and feral. If she’d been a microsecond slower or jumped in the other direction, he’d have caught her arm. Instead, when he lunged, his hands closed on air.
Whirling, she ran. She eluded his outstretched arm. Unfortunately, the momentum of her sudden flight caused her bag to swing out far enough that he was able to grab the weighty end.
“Ry—!”
Helene’s killer cut her off, yanking her back against his chest and clamping a hand across her mouth. “Not a sound, sister,” he snarled. “Let the white knights congratulate themselves while you and I take a little walk.”
When she fought him, he wrapped his forearm around her throat and clenched his muscles. Hard.
“Left my knife with the rest of my gear, lady, or I’d do you right here. You make this difficult, and I swear to God, I’ll peel you like a ripe Georgia peach. Won’t kill you doing it either. You’ll be alive and screaming when I feed you to the first alligator that crawls out of the water looking for a snack.”
She could bite the side of his hand, Mia realized. Through a leather glove though? Could she penetrate that?
Ignoring his threat, she squirmed against him, contorting her body and digging her heels into the mud.
He dragged her into a stand of trees. “Wildcat bitch,” he spat. “Keep it up, and I’ll be obliged to rape you before I peel away that soft flesh.”
She made an unintelligible sound and brought the heel of her boot down on his foot.
The arm around her windpipe tightened until she saw spots. “You’re asking for extra pain, lady, you really are.”
She heard the deep-throated rattle that spoke of an alligator in the vicinity, and she stilled her struggles for a terrified moment.
The killer inclined his head to whisper. “That didn’t sound healthy now, did it? Water’s close, and I’m betting not all those bumps poking through the surface are rocks.”
The ground underfoot had grown boggy enough to slosh. The alligator bellowed again. The killer chuckled. “Wish I could follow through on that rape, sugar, but the local gator sounds hungry. What say I just feed you to him and be done with it?”
He gave his muscles a final hard clench before relaxing the pressure on her throat. A mighty shove sent her stumbling forward into the water. Although she saved herself from falling, a quick spin brought her face to face with the killer’s gun.
Smiling, he raised it and shrugged. “Or we could do it this way and be sure.”
Mia barely had time to draw a breath, let alone think about how to react. One second the man was there, and the next he was flying sideways into the swamp.
She fought a spate of momentary dizziness. “Ryder…” she breathed. “Thank God.”
Everything tilted at that point. Or more accurately, it took on the aspect of a bad dream—feet rooted to the ground, thoughts in slow motion, movements even slower. Yes, she could hear the sound of a fight in progress, but all she could see were shadows on the nearby tree trunks. Eerie and strangely mesmerizing.
Very slowly, the scene righted itself. It occurred to her that she should be helping Ryder. Yet when she tried to lift her foot, it wouldn’t budge.
Looking down, she discovered she was standing ten inches deep in thick muddy water. The mud sucked on her boots as she struggled to extricate herself. Worse, it seemed determined to pull her in deeper.
Using a mossy sycamore branch and all her strength, she succeeded in freeing one foot. She was searching for solid ground when she spied something and stopped moving altogether.
Directly in front of her, dangling from a limb six inches higher than the one she held, was a snake. Dark brown diamonds ran along its back. While the rest of the swamp reptiles went about their business, the snake simply hung there. Silent, unblinking and deadly.