Evidence of Passion (Shadow Agents 7)

“I think you’re the target. Hit the alarm there. Get everyone out!”

Kenneth kept talking. “I just had to attract the EOD’s attention, had to get your fine, upstanding agents to bring me to your office. And when I knew that Mercer was there, at the facility, I just had to signal my employer.” He winked at Rachel. “Want to guess what the signal was?”

Dylan lunged forward. His hands clenched around Kenneth’s shoulders. “You bastard!”

Kenneth laughed again. “It was a convoy of cars leaving the facility.”

There was silence on the line. Too much silence.

“Mercer!” Rachel screamed.

Then the deafening boom burst across the phone line.

The phone slipped from her fingers and hit the ground. She stared at Kenneth, horrified.

But he just kept laughing. “And the Jack just took out the King. The untouchable Bruce Mercer is now little more than a pile of ash.”

No, no, he was wrong. He had to be wrong.

Rachel bent and scooped up her phone. She called Mercer back. The phone rang and rang.

Thomas signaled to some of the other agents. They jumped in their vehicles, sped away. The demolitions team was needed at the EOD, so they were burning rubber to get back to base.

If anything was left of it.

Dylan dropped his hold on Kenneth, stepped back and heaved in a breath. Then he drew back his fist and punched Kenneth. Kenneth stumbled back and fell—

Just as a bullet flew through the air. It slammed into the dock, sending wood splintering.

Kenneth didn’t get up. Blood trickled down his chin. “You’re dead, Agent Foxx. You think I would’ve come back here without backup? I was two steps ahead all along! Two damn steps!”

And they were out in the open with no cover.

There were civilians just a few yards away. They’d screamed at the blast of gunfire.

Another bullet blasted out. It hit Dylan, seeming to fly right into his chest.

“No!” Rachel cried.

Dylan fell back into the water.

Thomas grabbed Noelle, shielding her with his body.

The other agents still on scene rushed to protect the civilians.

And Kenneth—he dropped the cuffs. They just fell from his wrists. “Those really weren’t as secure as you thought.”

More gunfire erupted, thundering all around Rachel, but not hitting her. She froze. The shooter had to be up high and to the right. She turned her head and glimpsed the glint off the weapon.

“He’s in our room,” Kenneth said as he took care of the restraints at his ankles. “You know that cozy little place I kept you in last night? And this is going to be the really fun part... Guess who it is. Come on, guess.”

Another bullet blasted, hitting the wood less than an inch from her right foot.

“Chris Harris,” Kenneth whispered. “You should have followed his case a bit longer. You got distracted and, yesterday morning, he escaped from confinement. With a little help, that is.” His smile widened. “He owed me big. Not only did I kill the judge, but I took out the bastard father that he hated, too.”

Chris’s words rolled through her mind. One way or another, I’m getting out of here! I won’t stand trial again—I’m getting out.

They hadn’t realized the guy meant he had an escape plan in place.