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Back Seconds to Live Save as PDF
Chapters (47)
  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. Chapter Forty
  45. Chapter Forty-One
  46. Acknowledgments
  47. About the Author

She rejoined Brody in the hall. The final door was closed. Brody opened it and they went in, a table lamp lighting their way. The room was empty. Stella checked under the bed. Brody headed toward the closet. “We’re all clear.”

Relief tried to slip through her, but her instincts were still on alert. Post-traumatic stress or real threat? That was always the question these days.

“I guess Mr. Crawley isn’t that anxious to talk to us.” Brody holstered his weapon.

But Stella still had the creeps. She put her Glock away. “I don’t like this.”

“Stella.” Brody was staring at the opposite wall. Stella turned. Over the bed, bright red letters spelled BOO.

Fear prickled hot on Stella’s back. Unfortunately, it wasn’t her PTSD.

“Let’s get out of here.” Brody prodded her with a hand to the arm.

Crack. Something struck the ceiling above her head. Bits of ceiling rained down on her. Gunshot?

Confusion and fear jolted Stella.

“What was that?” She ran to the hall with Brody shoving her from behind.

“Gunshot.”

With his gaze on the floor, Brody steered her to the edge of the corridor. The floor squeaked underfoot.

Crack.

“Shit. He’s shooting at us from the apartment below.” Brody’s hand dropped off Stella’s shoulder. She turned. He was down on one knee. Blood seeped through his gray slacks. He waved her away and yelled, “Go! Get out of here.”

Not going to happen.

Drawing her weapon, she fired three shots through the floor, aiming at the bullet holes. Then she turned back to Brody, grabbed his wrist, and ducked under his arm. She half-dragged him to the door, staying off the direct path. Another shot came though the floor inches from her foot. Wood splintered. Something stung her ankle.

Stella yanked the door open, and they staggered onto the wooden landing of the staircase. Brody’s weight sagged on Stella’s frame, and she was forced to holster her gun and wrap her right arm around his waist to keep him upright as they hobbled down the steps. Stella’s ears rang as they made it to the walkway.

A door slammed and footsteps on concrete faded.

The shooter was getting away. Stella wanted to chase him. Brody went down, and Stella stumbled. Recovering, she turned to look back in the direction of the gunman.

But Brody was on the ground, pale and bleeding.

She’d have to let the shooter go. Again.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Three

“Have you seen this girl?” Mac held up the picture of Gianna.

A man in jeans and a T-shirt bearing the logo of a local bar emerged from his apartment, closed the door behind him, and locked it. He squinted at the photo. “I think she lives around here.”

“She lives in the next building,” Mac said. This apartment had a good view of the parking area. “She disappeared sometime last night.”