As if to mock her, her gaze caught on the profile of the very man she’d come to Dutch’s to find. He worked his way through the crowd, as if intent on finding someone. The someone turned out to be a woman who looked to be in her fifties, with light brown hair, strong features, and a wide, mobile mouth that came together into a striking whole. They had an intense, low-voiced discussion before Abbott turned away abruptly, his mouth pinched with anger. As intently as he’d made his way into the bar, he now worked his way toward the exit.

Cara slid out of the booth. Even though Kavenski had warned her about going after Abbott, she couldn’t let him leave without at least getting a plate number. It’d be simple and danger-free, and that bit of information might soften the blow when she informed Barney that they wouldn’t take the case.

“What are you doing?”

Cara gave him a sunny smile. “Nothing dangerous. Thanks for letting me sit with you.”

She turned away and slipped through the crowd, keeping her eye on the back of Abbott’s head, thankful that he was taller than most of the other bar patrons. By the time she’d worked her way to the door and stepped outside, he was nowhere in sight. She paused, waiting for one of the parked cars to start, hoping that he hadn’t parked it in the lot across the street or, even worse, walked to Dutch’s.

Glancing at the bouncer, she saw that he was watching her grimly. “I didn’t blow anything up,” she said.

Before he could respond, she saw red brake lights illuminate on a car in the far corner of the parking lot. It was too far away to see the plate, so she hurried across the lot. He was already backing out of his spot, and she moved a little faster, not wanting to attract attention by running, but also unwilling to miss her chance.

The back end of his car drew closer as he reversed, and she squinted at the license plate. He started to pull forward toward the lot exit, moving the car away from her, and she trotted forward, hoping to catch it as he paused before turning onto the street.

A loud squeal of tires behind her made her spin around, startled. Bright headlights blinded her as an engine revved loudly. A car was coming at her—fast, too fast. She dodged to the side, but the lights followed her, steering toward her as if to intentionally run her down. Pivoting in the other direction, she ran toward the row of parked cars, hoping they’d at least take some of the car’s impact, but a glance over her shoulder showed that it was too late.

The car was going to run her down.

Order Katie Ruggle’s next book in the
Rocky Mountain Bounty Hunters series

Risk It All

On sale November 2019