“Matt, go!” Bree gestured. “Collins, take the dog. Matt’s the fastest one of us here.”
He handed the leash to Collins and gave Brody a command. “Take him back to the vehicle. Crack the window.” The night was cool. Brody would be fine.
“Give Flynn your AR,” Bree commanded Collins.
Collins traded the AR-15 for the leash. Brody obeyed, but he was not happy about being sidelined. As Collins led him away, the dog cast a look back at Matt as if asking, Are you sure?
Matt cradled the rifle and sprinted toward the dock.
“Request backup,” Bree instructed Collins via the headset. “See if the state can send out a helicopter and call out the marine unit.”
Randolph County had their own boat and dive team, but the equipment was kept at a marina at the other end of the lake, miles away.
They were on their own.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Bree raced toward the dock. Her legs churned as she pushed for more speed. Matt was in the lead, his long legs eating up the distance. Behind him, she and Juarez raced side by side.
Matt stopped at the edge of the dock as the boat pulled away.
They weren’t going to make it.
Matt ducked behind a piling. Bree and Juarez caught up. Breathing hard, Bree leaned on her thighs and sucked wind. She felt like someone had taken an ice pick to her lungs.
“Couldn’t catch them,” Matt said, barely winded.
Bree scanned the shore. The next-door neighbor also had a dock with a fishing boat outfitted with an outboard motor. She whispered to Juarez, the fisherman, “You know boats?”
He nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
She pointed to the neighbor’s boat. “Will that one be able to catch Dylan?”
Juarez squinted at it. “I think so. It’s older but has a bigger outboard.”
Bree looked at the house next door. All the windows were dark, and it had a vacant air. “Can we commandeer it?”
One thing television actually got right was the ability of police to borrow a vehicle if they were involved in a dangerous situation and have no reasonable alternative. That said, if they crashed it, there’d be hell to pay.
“Let’s find out.” Juarez turned. Crouching, he ran along the shoreline. Bree and Matt followed close behind him. Juarez was clearly very familiar with watercraft. He jumped into the boat and went to the center console. The vessel was about eighteen feet long, with a single outboard engine. Juarez opened and closed compartments. Something cracked. A minute later, the motor started up.
Bree and Matt untied the lines and jumped aboard. The boat rocked, then settled as they stilled. Juarez manned the wheel, piloting the small boat across the water. Bree could see the running lights of Dylan and Stephanie’s boat a hundred yards ahead.
Bree stood next to her deputy. “Did you hot-wire it?”
Feet spread wide, Juarez pointed to a key in the ignition. “Didn’t have to. Key was in the glove box. I might have broken into that. My dad always kept a spare key on board in case someone dropped the primary key overboard.” He moved the throttle forward and the boat leaped ahead. The bow rose, then dropped as the boat hit plane and leveled off.
Bree used her radio to update dispatch.
They began to close the gap. Clouds drifted across the moon, throwing the lake into darkness. The outboard engine wasn’t unusually loud, but the night was exceptionally still and quiet. Even if the moon stayed hidden, surely Dylan and Stephanie would hear the approaching motor above their own.
Barely a hundred feet separated the vessels when Bree saw movement on the deck ahead. One silhouette was at the wheel. The other struggled to lift a long, seemingly heavy object.
Matt pointed. “Look!”
A long, dark shape was lifted to the side of the boat.
Bree knew what that shape was. “Todd.” Horror tightened her chest as she realized what was happening.
Matt nodded. “And they’re going to throw him overboard.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Todd lay on his side in the stern of the boat, exactly where he’d landed when Dylan had dropped him a second ago. Pain ratcheted through his body. He looked through the lashes of his good eye.
“I need help,” Dylan said. “He’s too bulky.”
The boat slowed as the woman left the wheel to help Dylan. They rocked and drifted in the water.
Dylan rolled Todd toward the side of the boat. Agony racked Todd’s body. His ribs cracked against something, knocking the wind out of him. His lungs shut down, and he couldn’t hold back a gasp. As his chest expanded and convulsed, more pain wrapped around his rib cage and squeezed. The hell with it. It didn’t matter if they knew he was conscious anymore. They were going to shoot him in a minute, then toss him overboard.