“Roscoe!” Dana scrambled up and jumped for the duo, but the man turned and fired. The gun barely made a sound. It had to have had a silencer. The dog yelped, spittle flying from his mouth.

Roscoe stopped, his eyes wide, then fell back, blood spurting from his side.

The man stood and slid the door closed, turning to face her. He slowly dropped a backpack to the floor.

Gary Rockcliff.

Chapter Forty-Two

Chapter Forty-Two

Dana cried out and dropped to her knees, reaching for Roscoe. His eyes had shut, and blood poured from above his belly. She frantically turned and ransacked the second drawer for a towel to press against the wound. The dog didn’t move.

She looked up, her body going numb.

Gary Rockcliff stared down at her, the barrel of the gun pointed at her head. “It’s time for us to go.”

She shook her head, pressing the towel against Roscoe’s fur, the blood welling up between her fingers. “You’re crazy. How could you shoot a dog?”

Kat jumped to all fours, arched his back, and hissed at Gary from the table.

Gary pointed the gun at the kitten.

“No!” Dana exploded, jumping for Kat, snatching him up, and shoving him into the small pantry. She shut the door, leaning against it, her nerves misfiring from adrenaline and terror.

Gary pointed the gun at the unmoving dog. “Come here, Dana, or I’ll shoot him again.”

She rapidly thought through her options, glancing between Gary and the dog. “I don’t understand what you want.” Wasn’t there a knife in the drawer by the oven? She had to get over there somehow.

“You will.” Gary was as tall as Wolfe and as broad across the chest, but his eyes showed a madness that made the bile rise in Dana’s throat. He’d dressed in all black and had a knife visibly strapped to his thigh. “Here’s the plan. We go out one of the windows to the east, away from that other house, and then we quietly walk through the forest to the vehicle I have waiting.”

“Is that how you got here?” Dana panted.

“More or less.” Gary stepped toward her, his hand steady on the weapon. “I was on that roof forever, waiting for you.”

She shook her head, frantically seeking a way out. “Wolfe will kill you for this.”

Gary chuckled, the sound scratchy. “Oh, you have no idea what he’ll want to kill me for, but you will soon.”

Her stomach dropped, and her hands shook.

Without warning, Gary grabbed her and yanked her in front of him to face the backyard, pressing the gun to her head. She shrieked, fought his hold, and then subsided when the cold metal cut into her skin. She blinked several times, looking out at the darkened night through the slight reflection in the sliding glass door. Outside, Malcolm stood, a rifle in his hands.