Target on the Mountain by Elizabeth Goddard (the chimp paradox .txt) 📕

room. Heart pounding, she whipped the weapon around as she stepped through the open door. “Freeze!”

A masked man stood much too close—her mistake—and he knocked the SIG from her grasp. She fought him, but with her injured shoulder, she struggled. Still, Tori was determined to best him. Somehow, she needed to get to her gun on the floor. Tori punched him in the solar plexus for good measure, then slammed his throat.

He coughed and gasped, but pulled out his own weapon—a nine-millimeter Glock.

Oh, no...

Tori dove into the hallway as gunfire exploded.

At the crack of gunfire, Ryan’s heart jackhammered.

He tossed his cell aside and radioed dispatch that shots had been fired and to send backup. But with Tori in danger, he couldn’t wait for them. He jumped from the SUV and pulled his Glock from his holster all in one smooth motion.

Please let me be wrong, please let me be wrong.

But it was hard to mistake the sound.

He sprinted up the driveway toward the front door. The distinct sound of glass shattering resounded from the back of the house.

Weapon held at low ready, he quickly crept along the side of the bungalow, cautious near the bushes in case someone hid behind them. At the back corner, he peeked around, prepared to face off with a possible perp.

But he saw no one in the neat backyard that included a blue-and-white-striped hammock. His heart kinked as he pictured Sarah relaxing in that hammock. But there was no time to think about what had been lost. Ryan kept his weapon ready to aim and fire and continued all the way into the backyard to make sure it was clear.

At the back of the house, he found the shattered glass and the window that had been broken.

“Tori!”

While he didn’t want to destroy any evidence, his primary focus was on finding her. He approached the window carefully and glanced inside. He saw nothing. “Tori?”

There was no response. His heart rate ratcheted up.

Lord, please let her be okay.

He ran around to the front of the house and, shoving the door open, forced his way inside. “Tori! Are you okay?”

“Here. I’m in here.”

Following the voice, he rushed into the hallway and found her on the floor. His pulse thundered in his ears as he crouched next to her. “Tori, honey...”

Sweat beaded her face and blood soaked her arm. His heart pounded. “You’re hurt! Someone shot you?”

“No, it’s just my wound broke open.”

He wanted to reach for her but was afraid to make her pain worse. “What happened?”

“First, help me get up.”

He assisted her to her feet.

She bent over her thighs as if to catch her breath, then leaned against the wall, her hand pressed to her chest. “Someone was in the house. A masked man. I walked in on him. We fought, but my shoulder isn’t so good, so he got the best of me.”

Blood soaked her shoulder and arm now. While she talked, he grabbed towels from the bathroom, then pressed one against her shoulder. “We need to stop the bleeding.”

“I made a mistake and he was too close to me when I confronted him. He was able to knock my gun away. We fought and I almost had him, but then he pulled a gun of his own. That’s when I dove into the hall. He broke the window and climbed through it to the backyard.”

Tori pressed the towel against her shoulder, relieving Ryan of the task.

“He didn’t pursue you into the hallway?” Thank You, God. He couldn’t bear to think of how this could have ended—and on his watch, no less.

“No. I’m not sure why he didn’t just flee out the front door, but maybe he was afraid he would run into you. I’m also not sure why he didn’t try to...” She trembled.

Kill her? Was that what Tori would have said had she completed her sentence?

“I’m not sure why he didn’t finish the job,” she said.

His insides quaked. Ryan never ever wanted to see his Tori, tough FBI agent Tori Peterson, this shaken again.

His Tori?

“Oh, honey.” He took her into his arms, careful of her shoulder.

She cried into her hands against his chest, the bloodied towel pressed between them against her shoulder. Tori had always been the strongest person he knew—but she’d been through so much. These latest attacks meant she’d barely had time to grieve over the loss of her sister. But he supposed that this was how she’d chosen to grieve—by fighting back and trying to find Sarah’s killer. Tori’s job was all about law and justice, and for her sister to be murdered chafed in every way.

Sirens rang out in the distance and grew louder.

Finally...

“I called reinforcements when I heard gunfire.” His chin rested on the top of her head, stirring memories of him holding her in his arms—but those times from their past couldn’t be more different than the current situation.

She sniffled and stepped away. Swiped at her eyes. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

Strong Tori was back again, and strong Tori refused to show any weakness. She left him standing there and stomped into the bedroom. The guest bedroom...he knew that because he was the detective on the case, and he’d already been through the house in search of clues. Ryan trailed her.

“This is my FBI-issued gun.” She pointed at the weapon lying on the floor on the other side of the room. “He knocked that out of my hands. He was wearing gloves, but maybe there could still be DNA. Certainly not prints, though.”

“Jerry will look it over first to make sure.”

“Okay. I want it back as soon as possible.” She moved to the window. “You already know that he broke the window getting out. While your people sweep this place for prints and evidence, I’ll canvass the neighborhood.”

Right. He fisted his hands on his hips. “You really can’t let it go, can you?”

She scrunched her face but her gaze swept the room. “What are you talking about?”

“You are not the law around here