Hit and Run by Allison Brennan, Laura Griffin Read Free Book Online Page A

whispered, “Take out your phone. There’s a tunnel that leads to the woodshed. It should be on the southernmost wall.”
    If they could get out they could hide in the woods. Or get to her Jeep. Or to wherever Jason had hid his bike.
    “You were followed,” he said.
    “No, I wasn’t,” she said.
    “How do you know?”
    “Because I made sure of it,” she whispered. “There,” she said when Jason’s light bounced off a darker corner.
    They moved over to the corner and shined the cell phone light down into the hole.
    A new grate had been put in place. “Well, fuck,” she said. “Now I find out Diego had gotten all security conscious.”
    “We’re trapped down here.”
    “We were trapped up there. But at least we can shoot anyone who comes through the door.”
    She hoped Kyle Richardson had located them. That he had called in the police. The cavalry. She didn’t want to die in this basement. She didn’t want to die at all. Her heart raced even as she tried to calm herself. Memories returned of the other ambush, of being shot in the back. Of lying there, knowing in her heart that she was going to die. That she was going to be responsible for a rookie’s death. Bleeding out, not knowing why.
    Her breath caught in her throat and she willed herself to focus on the here and now.
    She would know why people were shooting at them. Why Jason was under attack. Why Gina Perez had been killed and Jason framed—because as she thought about it, she realized that nine millimeter in his car had to have been planted, most likely at the station. It must be the weapon that had killed Gina, and that’s why SWAT had been called in when they suspected Jason was at his sister’s house. It made sense … but now wasn’t the time to focus on the details. Now was the time to focus on survival.
    The door above them leading into the laundry room burst open. She saw the flash of a gun and she fired, three bullets, center mass. The gunman fell to his knees, then toppled down the stairs.
    They couldn’t see him, but she smelled gunpowder and blood. He wasn’t moving. She feared he was dead.
    More shouts upstairs, running on the floor above them. Definitely two more. Then silence. Creaking, like they were walking slowly back and forth. The front door slammed shut and then she heard nothing.
    Still, they waited.
    “Search him,” she ordered Jason.
    He used the light from her cell phone to find the body. First Jason checked his pulse. “He’s dead,” he said.
    Her stomach flipped. It had been the second time she’d killed someone. The first had been in the line of duty. Even though she’d had no real choice, she wished it could have been different. Taking a life was never easy.
    This time she’d had no choice, either. That didn’t make it any easier to deal with.
    Deal with it later, Moreno.
    Jason kicked away the gun that had fallen under the dead guy’s body, then went through his pockets. Scarlet walked up the stairs cautiously, peered around the corner into the kitchen. She didn’t see anyone, but closed the door to give them a little warning before take two.
    She went back down the stairs. The ceiling was low—so low that it brushed against Jason’s head when he stood up.
    “The guy’s name is Eric Peterson,” he said. “I think this is one of the guys who ran me off the road.”
    “Are you positive?”
    “No, but he looks familiar and I don’t know him.” He showed Scarlet the driver’s license. He lived on Glendale Avenue in Burbank. She didn’t recognize him.
    “Anything else?”
    “No badge, a little money—about a hundred bucks. Wait—an ID card from Armor Plus.”
    “What’s that?”
    “I don’t know—security of some sort. No address on the ID.”
    “Leave it all. I suspect they’re trying to wait us out. Or worse, they’re reloading.”
    “Wouldn’t neighbors have called in the shots?”
    “Possibly—with the fire power they had, someone was bound to hear them. But this place is