Still, she winced. Zoomed in with the camera and saw … a piece of paper banded around some kind of weight.
With a gentle underhand toss, Kent lobbed it onto the porch. Mary Elise heard the thud echo in stereo from outside and through the computer's speaker.
He raised his hand, waved once in a mocking salute and waited.
She shifted on the bar stool, trying like crazy to adopt Daniel's logic and blend it with her own intuition about the madman she'd married. Stepping outside would be reckless, and undoubtedly Danny would be furious with her.
Unless Kent had already—
She sliced that thought away. Damn it, she couldn't even consider that, because then she couldn't think at all. But what if Daniel had been hurt? Time became crucial.
Or worse, what if he hadn't even discovered Kent as of yet and stumbled on him unaware? She knew with a certainty born of both intuition and logic that Kent was well armed in some fashion. Perhaps he had backup lurking in the cover of trees waiting to take her out while he watched.
Certainly a possibility. In which case Daniel would stumble on two people unaware. Which left her with only one choice. She would have to alert Daniel. All she needed was a single warning shout. Or shot.
The past year had taught her she could survive almost anything. But she knew without question, she wouldn't survive seeing Daniel die.
Daniel stared down at the dead body at his feet.
The Javaro paddle dangled from the rope, deactivated. The dead man's unblinking stare made checking for a pulse unnecessary. Problem was, the paddle hadn't killed him. A bullet through the temple from someone else's gun had, someone with a silencer, since he hadn't heard a shot.All of which meant another armed party lurked out there. Searching for Mary Elise. And the dead man couldn't help with any information, most likely the reason he'd been silenced once injured.
Daniel shifted the weight of the .45 in his hand. He didn't need to check the man for identification, either. The frozen face below was a direct mirror of one of the mug shots he'd pulled up from intelligence files.
The assassin who'd been hired to kill Mary Elise a year ago.
The dead bastard lying on the ground had been used the way sacrificial troops were run through land mines to clear the field for the next line to march through. Scanning the trees, the path, Daniel found disturbed pine straw continuing down the path. Toward the cabin.
Mary Elise.
A shot split the air.
He flattened to the ground, rolled to the side and steadied his gun in a fluid move. Nothing. Nobody in sight. Crouching, he darted through the trees, dried leaves crunching beneath his feet.
His heart pounded in time with his feet. Damn it, how could things have gone to hell so fast. What could he have done differently? He searched his mind—and came up with zip. Other than the fact he'd been lured out, separated from Mary Elise.
He'd expected McRae to be devious. He hadn't expected tactical savvy.
Of course he should have, if he'd listened to Mary Elise. The commander's warning from only days prior thundered through his head. Every flyer faced the possibility of meeting a missile some day.
His death he could face. Mary Elise's was unacceptable.
Daniel drew closer to the cabin. Voices carried on the wind. Mary Elise's. Relief hammered him until he almost forgot to make his feet keep moving.
Another voice drifted. Male. The cabin showed through the cover of trees.
Mary Elise eased down the porch steps, gun drawn and steady on the man standing with his back to Daniel.
Good girl. She had McRae cornered, withstanding whatever garbage the bastard was pouring her way in his relentless talking, and holding her own.
Daniel strode closer, sight line clearing. A tie flapped over the man's shoulder, jacket long gone but white shirt a crisp beacon—with the harsh slash of a gun tucked in the waistband out of sight to Mary Elise.
Daniel stopped cold.
He couldn't let her see him now. If Mary Elise called a greeting, thinking she had McRae safely pinned, the bastard would have time to draw.
To shoot. Her.
Daniel blinked as if he could change the hell in front of him. He'd been so damned sure he could protect her. Of course he'd been concerned about injuries, but never, never had he allowed himself to consider that she could die.