Storm Force. Meredith Fletcher

swelling on the side of his face. Somebody had hit him really hard.

      Reaching into the first-aid kit, ignoring the continued caterwauling of the prisoners, Kate took out an ammonia capsule and snapped it under the younger guard’s nose. The acrid stink caused Kate to choke and cough, but it woke the guard.

      He came around fast, jerking his head to get away from the ammonia. He cursed and reached for his pistol but found only an empty holster. His eyes were wide and frightened as he looked up at her.

      Kate looked at his prison ID, noting the picture and the name. If something had been planted on the bus to cause the tire to blow it, it could have been an inside job. Just because the guy was wearing a prison guard uniform didn’t mean he was a good guy.

      “Bill,” Kate said in a neutral voice. “Bill Maddox. Can you hear me?”

      “Huh?” Maddox blinked at her. Awareness gradually seeped into his eyes. He touched the side of his face. “Damn but that guy can hit.”

      Kate held up two fingers. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

      Maddox looked and blinked. “Two.”

      She smiled at him, feeling some of the control returning to the situation. “Good. You’ve been in an accident, but you’re going to be fine. Do you know what happened?”

      “Yeah. Something on the side of the bus blew up. Pete lost control and we flipped. By the time I recovered, Shane Warren was out of his seat, off the chain and through that security door. He hit me before I could pull my weapon.” Bill shook his head slowly. “I’ve never seen somebody move that fast in my life.”

      “Can you sit up?”

      He managed it with help and Kate left him propped against the top of the bus.

      “I’ve got to try to get help,” Kate said. “Your friend needs someone to look after him.”

      “Where’s Pete?”

      Kate pointed at the older guard crumpled against the doors.

      Maddox started to get up, then his legs turned rubbery and he sat back down hard again. The prisoners jeered at him, making fun of his inability to stand.

      “Easy,” Kate said, looking him in the eye. That was important to a shock victim, she knew. The victim had to feel that he could take care of himself. “You’re probably a little lightheaded right now. After everything you’ve been through, that’s to be expected. Just go slow and you’re going to be fine.”

      Leaning back, Maddox started taking deep breaths.

      “Breathe slowly,” Kate made herself say calmly. She knew she sounded much more calm than she felt. She’d practiced sounding that way during stressful situations. She demonstrated till he started breathing that way too. “You breathe fast like that you’re going to get your blood too oxygenated, you’ll hyperventilate and you could pass out. That won’t help Pete.” Give him someone else to take care of, she thought. That way he’ll stop worrying about himself so much.

      “Okay,” he said. “Thanks. Are you a nurse?”

      Kate checked an immediate impulse to ask him why he thought she couldn’t be a doctor. She made herself smile reassuringly. “No. But I’ve done a lot of first aid.”

      “How did you get here?”

      “I saw the accident happen. Thought I’d stop by and lend a hand. Unfortunately, some of the prisoners managed to escape and stole my Jeep.”

      Maddox looked into the back of the bus. “Who?”

      “Somebody named Jolly. Another guy named Shane.”

      Maddox cursed.

      “There were four other guys,” Kate said, “but I didn’t get their names.”

      Looking back through the prisoners, Maddox said, “Phil Lewis, Monte Carter, Deke Hannibal and Ernie Franks. They were the ones that helped Raymond Jolly pull the Desiree Martini kidnapping.”

      That rang bells. Desiree Martini had been the twentysomething heiress of Gabriel Martini, the international shipping magnate who operated out of Miami-Dade. The kidnapping had taken place a few months ago. The last Kate had heard, law-enforcement officials had “feared the worst” and the ransom money hadn’t yet been recovered. Jolly had stashed it someplace before the FBI had apprehended him.

      “We need to call 911,” Kate said. “Let them know we’re out here.”

      “Sure.” Maddox pulled his cell phone from the holster on his belt. He checked it, shook his head and immediately regretted that. “No signal.”

      “It happens down here in the low areas,” Kate said. “Let me borrow it and I’ll hike up on one of the hills. See if I can get a signal there.”

      “I can do it.” Maddox tried to get up again but couldn’t manage it. Ruefully, he handed Kate the phone. “I’ll just stay here and take care of Pete.”

      “You do that,” Kate said.

      “What should I look out for?”

      Kate stood and shoved the phone into her pocket. “Keep his head elevated. That’ll relieve some of the pressure and naturally help slow the bleeding. If he throws up, don’t let him breathe it in. Turn his head and get it out.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “Should be cake.”

      “Cake,” Maddox echoed doubtfully.

      “I’ll be right back as soon as I get through to someone.” Kate climbed up and caught hold of the window. She heaved herself out and dropped over the side of the bus. She forced herself to jog, not run, not allowing herself to give in to the panic that throbbed inside her.

      She had to run a quarter-mile to reach a rise. Even then she only had one signal bar showing. But when she punched 911, she got right through. As she explained the situation—giving her location and knowing the phone GPS coordinates would back her up—she looked back at the overturned bus. A thin trickle of black smoke continued to pour from the engine compartment. The quiet of the Everglades made everything she saw feel surreal.

      She couldn’t help wondering where Raymond Jolly and his cohorts had gotten off to in her truck.

      “Hell of a mess you got yourself involved in, Kate.”

      Standing to one side of the accident site, Kate watched Sheriff Harvey Bannock walking over to her. “Didn’t exactly have this on my schedule either, Sheriff.”

      Bannock smiled and wiped the back of his wattled neck with a handkerchief. “Damn, but it’s humid.” He looked to the south where the ocean lay only a few miles away. “Supposed to be blowing up a storm out there that’ll be on us soon. They’re calling it Genevieve.”

      “That’s what Dad said.”

      “How come the bad ones always get those sexy names?”

      Kate shook her head and watched as the prisoners were led from the overturned bus into another one under the close supervision of shotgun-toting prison guards. Several of the prisoners had complained of medical problems, insisting they needed to be taken to a hospital and not back to the prison. Besides the prison bus, there were several sheriff’s deputies, paramedics and a few of the local reporters. Miami had even sent a news helicopter.

      Bannock was a thickset man who’d been sheriff in the county for twenty-five years. His florid face came from too much drinking, but he ran a tight ship. His iron-gray hair was neatly clipped and he wore a jacket over a Colt .45 he’d carried as an officer during his tours through Vietnam. He looked like somebody’s grandfather with his jeans and cowboy boots, but the mirror sunglasses and no-nonsense attitude were all cop.

      He was also a good friend to her and her dad. He threw a lot of out-of-town business her way with recommendations and business connections he had. Sometimes Kate thought it was because he felt sorry for her, but Bannock always insisted