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Back Minutes to Kill Save as PDF
Chapters (45)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Page
  3. Dedication
  4. Contents
  5. Chapter One
  6. Chapter Two
  7. Chapter Three
  8. Chapter Four
  9. Chapter Five
  10. Chapter Six
  11. Chapter Seven
  12. Chapter Eight
  13. Chapter Nine
  14. Chapter Ten
  15. Chapter Eleven
  16. Chapter Twelve
  17. Chapter Thirteen
  18. Chapter Fourteen
  19. Chapter Fifteen
  20. Chapter Sixteen
  21. Chapter Seventeen
  22. Chapter Eighteen
  23. Chapter Nineteen
  24. Chapter Twenty
  25. Chapter Twenty-One
  26. Chapter Twenty-Two
  27. Chapter Twenty-Three
  28. Chapter Twenty-Four
  29. Chapter Twenty-Five
  30. Chapter Twenty-Six
  31. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  32. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  33. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  34. Chapter Thirty
  35. Chapter Thirty-One
  36. Chapter Thirty-Two
  37. Chapter Thirty-Three
  38. Chapter Thirty-Four
  39. Chapter Thirty-Five
  40. Chapter Thirty-Six
  41. Chapter Thirty-Seven
  42. Chapter Thirty-Eight
  43. Chapter Thirty-Nine
  44. Acknowledgments
  45. About the Author

She waved the knife. “My father was an army ranger. He taught me how to do all sorts of interesting things, like rig snares and hunt game. By the time I was twelve, I could skin and field dress a deer.” She reached up and touched his solar plexus with her forefinger. “You make a cut from the deer’s sternum to its crotch. That’s the tricky part. The cut has to be deep enough to get through the hide and abdominal muscles, but you don’t want to puncture the intestines. You need to pull those out intact so their contents don’t taint the meat.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. The brief shimmer of fear in his eyes gave her hope that he’d tell her where his partner was keeping Chet.

A predatory, egotistic smile split his face. “Nice bluff, counselor. But you aren’t like me. You aren’t going to cut me. You have morals. You care about doing what’s right. And you’d go to prison for it.”

A small voice inside her wanted to make him pay. He was the worst example of humanity. He preyed on helpless young girls and old men. He wasn’t worth the air he breathed. Once he was arrested, the courts would take over. He’d be one more cog in an overcrowded wheel. He was a plea away from a short sentence.

But she couldn’t do it. She’d fight to defend herself or another, but she couldn’t hurt a man hanging helpless from a tree, no matter how much the man deserved it. Her father and her brother had fought and sacrificed for freedom and democracy, not vigilante justice. But now she truly understood the anger and frustration that had driven Grant to pound on their brother’s killer.

Damn it.

She couldn’t let him go, and she couldn’t make him talk. That left one option. She had to trust Brody.

Hannah pulled out her own cell and dialed Brody. His voice mail answered. She called the police station. A man answered the call. “Scarlet Falls police. Sergeant Stevens.”

“If you call the cops, I’ll never tell you,” Mick said. “If the old man dies, it’ll be your fault.”

Hannah ignored him. “I need to talk to Detective McNamara.” Hannah stared at the photo of Chet. There must be a clue in the picture that could tell her where Chet was tied up.

“Detective McNamara is unavailable.”

“Please, interrupt him.” She gave the sergeant her name. “It’s an emergency.”

“Better hurry,” Mick chided. “It’s fucking cold out here today. The old dude won’t last long. When we grabbed him, he already looked half dead.”

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty

“The suspect opened fire first,” Brody said for the tenth time. Why was he wasting time recounting the shooting over and over while he’d rather be searching for the killer?