Lawrence Harville hurried out of the cottage, flanked by his goons. She couldn’t make out what he was saying to them, but they were in the car in seconds, revving up the engine.
For a horrible moment, Mia thought they were going to run over the crumpled body of Ross, and they swerved very close to it, then swerved back again. She could hear the laughter from inside the car and she felt a jolt of nausea.
But the car screeched around the corner into the road and was away in seconds, leaving Mia free to draw a breath and wonder what she should do first.
Ross obviously needed some attention, but what the hell had that shot been, in the cottage? Was Jason lying in there, dead?
She couldn’t pluck up the nerve to go and find out. The idea that she might stumble across his body was too frightening. Don’t be a hero.
But perhaps it was time she was a hero. After all the crap she’d put everyone through because of Harville, perhaps she needed to put herself second for once. What if she could save Jason’s life by pulling out the bullet, or putting her finger in the wound or whatever? Like in the movies?
She stood up from her cowering crouch and tried to clear her head.
Yes, Ross was injured, but he was alive. She had felt a pulse. Police and ambulance were on their way – surely they wouldn’t be long. But it might just be too long for Jason.
Unbidden, her feet began to move across the weed-strewn gravel, first at a shaky walk, then she broke into a run. She hammered hard on the back door.
‘Jason!’ she yelled. ‘Jason, are you there?’
She yanked a rough edged stone from a flowerbed border and used it to smash the back door window. She reached through carefully. Yes, there was a key in the lock. Yes, she could turn it and open the door.
Why hadn’t he answered?
Her legs were watery as she turned on the kitchen light and moved as fast as she could, in case of collapse, through the room. Somebody had overcooked something quite recently, she thought, glancing at the stove to make sure it wasn’t still on. But the smell of burning must be an old one.
Now she was bellowing his name, poking her head into every room, but finding no trace of him.
‘Ja—’ She stopped suddenly. Had she heard something?
A muffled thudding sound coming from somewhere … where? … it wasn’t the kitchen but it was in that direction.
She opened a door she had assumed must be a cupboard and gasped.
The thudding was much clearer now, and situated low in the building, almost beneath her feet. She flicked a switch on the inside wall and a set of stone steps came into view, with a door at its foot.
‘Jason,’ she cried again, and this time she heard a reply.
‘Mia! In here!’
‘Oh my God, you’re alive,’ she almost wept, racing down the stairs and leaning her cheek against the door.
Of course, it was locked.
Jenna and Parker had been up and down the old Mansfield road three times before Parker put a hand on Jenna’s arm and said, ‘Hey! Over there! Pull over a moment.’
There wasn’t anywhere to stop, just a grass verge with hedgerow.
‘I can’t pull over,’ said Jenna.
‘Then do a U-turn and go back. I saw something in that last driveway we passed. Might be nothing, but …’
Jenna nodded tersely and waited for the road to clear of traffic before U-turning and heading back.
‘There! See! Pull into that driveway. I think someone’s lying in the road.’
Jenna parked just inside the gate posts and hurried out of the car.
Parker was right. Somebody was lying, injured, on the gravel.