Dean had been flyingthe drone according to Andrew’s instruction when he heard the gunshot. The first, followed by two more. From a rifle. He was cursing as he brought the drone in as fast as possible.
“What are you doing?” Andrew asked.
“That was gunfire,” he barked. “Call Lacy.”
Andrew sputtered, but it was Maria who took immediate action. “She’s not answering.”
“Keep at it,” Andrew urged. “Try the others.”
Dean focused on the drone. When it was safely down, he called Mel. No answer. “Damn it.” He gathered up the drone and hauled it to the Jeep. “Do we have their position?”
“I only know the general area,” Kent said. Turning to their driver, Janine, he got everyone loaded and headed in the right direction. “Is there some sort of tracking on the Jeeps?” he asked her.
“Yes.” She reached for the radio. “I’ll call the office.” Before she could do so, they heard the call for emergency assistance. “That was Keith.” Her relief was obvious. “We won’t need GPS now,” Janine said, “we’ll just follow the responders.”
Dean didn’t want to follow anyone. He wanted to get there first. Amid the low keen of sirens rising around the park, he kept calling Mel. And praying. And reminding himself she was a total badass. She’d survived an assassination attempt. Likely more than one. No way she would fall to a random shooter.
Unless it wasn’t random.
Cursing his dark thoughts, he dialed again. This time—finally—she answered the call.
Her immediate assurance that no one was hurt did little to calm the hot spike of panic lodged under his heart. “What’s the situation?”
“Three shots and done. Nothing since,” Mel reported. “Everyone has shelter, no sign of additional threats, but we’re staying low.”
“Good. Did you see anything on the monitor?”
“Lacy only has a few scrapes.” She paused. “That’s it for injuries.”
She didn’t want to speak freely. Fine. Well, not at all fine, but he understood that if she gave him a full report it would raise suspicion about her background. He closed his eyes tight for just a minute. They’d discuss this at length once everyone was safe and out of the park.
Janine had been right about the emergency response. She followed an ambulance and a sheriff’s SUV to the scene. The sheriff’s deputy blocked the path, keeping the rest of them several hundred yards back and refusing to allow anyone close until the scene was declared safe.
Dean fumed, itching to ignore the order, but unwilling to reveal he and Mel were more than local drone operators.
“It’ll be all right, man,” Kent said.
Dean struggled not to react until he realized Kent was talking to Andrew. The man was white as a sheet as he tried to get a glimpse of whatever was going on from the front seat. Maybe having a flashback to that trip to a war zone. Dean should probably care, but Mel was his biggest concern right now. Maria remained in the Jeep, staring straight ahead, her fingers interlocked in her lap and her lips moving in silent prayer. Dean couldn’t take it, he climbed out of the backseat. He wouldn’t interfere, but he couldn’t sit in the cramped space one second longer.
He reached the ambulance in a few quick strides, hoping to see or hear Mel. He spotted her drone controller on the ground on the cleared path but the drone wasn’t within his view. The group’s driver was next to his vehicle, but the kid was alone.
Had someone shot down the drone? Not cool, but a far cry better than the worst-case scenarios running through his mind. He reminded himself that she’d sounded okay and she could definitely take care of herself. Still, he’d feel better if he could see her.
He inched closer to the sheriff’s SUV, then around the front fender, and there she was. Relief flooded through his system and the knot around his chest loosened. Mel sat with her back against a big red rock, holding Lacy’s hand and talking to the deputy. He couldn’t hear the conversation, but she didn’t appear stressed out. Hell, she even smiled at the man, as if today’s scare was no different than any of her previous visits to the park.
The deputy crouched in front of Lacy and Mel, exchanging words with someone on the other end of his radio. Dean wanted to get up there and help Mel do the job they were here to do. Had the deputy called in a search team? Set up a perimeter to keep the shooter in the park? He was more than a little tempted to call Jake and get the Brotherhood Protectors moving on those tasks. He didn’t handle idle time well.
Never a good idea to alienate local law enforcement. What he could do was update Beck. Doubtful Mel would’ve had the time or space to do that. He sent several concise text messages, sharing what he’d heard, what Mel had told him, and what he could see. He also reminded her to check the latest video upload from Mel’s drone.
His phone vibrated in his hand. Reading the message sent a chill across the back of his neck. James Atwell had been listed as a second-unit contractor during Spalding’s documentary effort overseas and paid by the studio. Later, the Atwell unit—Dean assumed that meant the man’s family and chosen companions—were hired for work here in the States.
Grinding his teeth, he promised to send an update from this scene as soon as possible. He was really regretting not tagging Atwell’s car sooner. It would be nice to know if he was directly involved in this attack.
Behind him, Dean heard an engine shift into gear. Apparently, the paramedics had been released from the scene. Another good sign. Dean used the movement to his advantage, striding right up to Mel.
When he didn’t have to dodge any bullets, he figured the situation was normal now.
“Sir, get back.” Deputy Agostino stood to block Dean. “This is an active scene.”
Dean wasn’t intimidated. “And that is my wife.” He walked right up and pulled her into his arms. “A year off my life,” he whispered, holding her close. She was in one piece, alive and well. Eventually, the adrenaline redlining his system would fade, along with the urge to seek and destroy the shooter. In the meantime, his top priority was getting Mel and the others to safe quarters.
With Dean holding Mel, everyone seemed to snap out of hiding mode. Dale, Spalding, Lacy, and Keith also got up and started milling about. The others he’d left at the Jeep started their way. Deputy Agostino was on the verge of losing control of the scene.
“With your permission,” Dean began, “I’d like to get everyone to a more secure location.” He angled his head toward the Jeep waiting down the road. “We can wait at the visitor’s center and give statements there.”
Agostino cocked his head and reluctantly agreed. “Let me get an immediate overview first.”
Dean had tried. “Fine. Can we get that tire changed?” He jerked his head toward the Jeep. “That’ll make it easier to get everyone back in one trip.”
“I found the bullet that went through the tire,” Keith offered, pointing to the ground. Smart of him to leave it in place. “But I can’t find the bullet that hit Mel.”
Dean’s pulse roared in his ears. “What?” He held her at arm’s length, his gaze racing over every inch of her.
“Missed!” She thumped him lightly on the chest. “Don’t be a caveman.” She held up her collar. “Missed. I told you I was fine.”
A red haze fogged his vision as he took stock of the bullet hole in her collar. A black scorch mark had burned an ugly path through the moss-green fabric. Suddenly, he wanted statements as much as the deputy did. No doubt Mel would be the most accurate witness. “Where were you standing?”
With the threat apparently over, Mel walked Dean and the deputy through the incident, interrupted frequently by the others. First the shot aimed at the drone, then two shots at the group, both passing between Mel and Spalding. One shot taking out the tire, the other nearly hitting Mel. She claimed she wasn’t sure which shot had been fired first.