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Chapter 42

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TEDDY’S HAND TREMBLED unsteadily with the weight of the Remington .45 pistol.

September wanted to cry. Maybe it was time to give up. April was probably going to die; Combs had as good as said it. She couldn’t win, not when even Teddy was one of Lizzie’s henchmen. She leaned into Shadow’s ruff. His breath warmed her cheek. His tension screamed beneath her hands, a coiled spring aching for release. With sudden clarity, she knew exactly what to do.

“You almost forgot this. I hate these things. Maybe you’ll need it—”

“Shadow, show me...gun!”

Shadow sprang. He muzzle-popped the target. The pistol spun away.

Teddy cried out and grabbed his bruised hand. He staggered. Fell. The sofa softened his landing. “Why the hell did you do that?”

“Oh crap, sorry, Teddy. Are you okay? Sorry, I just reacted. Yes, Shadow, good-dog.” Shadow leaped around, tail flailing with excitement.

September scrambled to retrieve the gun—the safety was still on—and stuck it back into her pocket. She dried her palms on the carpet. “I thought you’d gone to the dark side, Teddy. Are you okay?”

He rubbed his face, grumbling. “Guess that was good practice for the dog, huh? Glad he doesn’t know ‘sic ‘em’ after all.”

Shadow wagged and wiggled. She crooned, “Good-dog, what a good boy, Shadow, good-dog.”She pushed him away and waited for her pulse to slow. Now that the adrenalin rush had passed, all aches flooded back.

It took seconds to lever herself upright, and she steadied herself with one hand on Shadow’s solid-as-a-rock back. She zipped up her parka. Her knees creaked. Growing old wasn’t for weenies. Shadow stayed glued to her side, watching. September fumbled for words, repeating, “I’m sorry. Did he hurt you?” The gun in her pocket weighed a thousand pounds. It could have gone off. He could have shot her, or it could have shot him.

Teddy smiled, and the expression brought a sad beauty to his weathered skin. “Most excitement I’ve had in years. And I don’t begrudge you or your sister’s passion for helping Steven. I sort of know what April’s going through. Molly doesn’t know me half the time. But other days, she’s bright as a penny, with the same sparkle when we first met back in grade school. If some drug could bring that back, keep me from losing her, well guess I’d do just about anything.” He fumbled the buttons on his damp coat.

“What’re you doing?” Her suspicious tone made Shadow’s ears flick forward, and he yawned, nerves still strung tight. “Where are you going?”

“With you.” Teddy pulled on his gloves. His stoic expression sanctioned no argument.

She turned to go. “I don’t have time to argue.”

“Then I suppose you’ll have to hold a gun on me.” Teddy headed to the door.

Shadow leaped at the handle with yelps of anticipation. His tail swatted the floor. He sat as taught, offering a polite “wait” to ask for the door to be opened.

September sighed. She hadn’t planned to take him along. She might not have chosen Shadow, but he’d chosen her.

“Okay, Shadow, let’s go.” She’d leave him in the car once she got to the house so he’d be safe. Steven would need a service dog more than ever once this horror ended.

Lizzie and Gerald had forced her out of her rose garden fortress, threatened her family, and killed friends. Time to turn the tables, and flush out the rats with the flash drive as cheese. She’d run home to Texas to hide but it was time to cowboy up, before Lizzie called again. “You really want to help?”

“Of course. Steven’s counting on us.”

“Then c’mon.” She opened the door, and dodged Shadow when he dashed ahead toward the car. “Do you have your phone?”

He patted his pocket in affirmation.

“Good. Make sure it’s charged.” September held open the rear door. “Shadow, kennel-up.” She shut him inside one of Pam’s dog crates. At least he’d be safe. She saw Teddy slide into the passenger side, and hurried to shoehorn herself behind the wheel. She started the car, and made one more call before pulling out of Teddy’s driveway.

“Anita, it’s September.”

“Lady, you’ve got everyone worried sick. Phones here at the station have rung off the hook.”

“Connect me with Humphrey.” September turned the key in the ignition and it started on the first try. Maybe her luck had changed.

“Are you okay, honey?” Anita didn’t wait for an answer. “Fish is still on-air, and you’re still the star. I’ll switch you—”

“No, let me talk to him off-air.” She shoved the car into gear and did a doughnut out of the driveway.

“He won’t like that. He’s drooling over what this will do for his career.”

“It’s important, Anita. Life or death important. He’ll want to take this call, I’m not woofin’ you.” September eased off the gas until the tires caught. “Just tell him . . . tell him I’m keeping my promise.”