Bounty Hunter Honor. Kara Lennox

don’t you give it a try…Freesia,” Andy said. Something about his tone bothered Rex. Was there a slight challenge to the suggestion?

      “It’s an awfully big gun for a lady,” Rex said, trying to give Nadia an out. She’d said she didn’t want to shoot.

      But she surprised him. “I’ll give it a try.” With the push of a button she sent the target out to the same distance at which Rex had shot it. Then, after a short hesitation, she pushed the button again, sending it even farther.

      “You sure?”

      Wordlessly she put on her ear protection, and Rex followed suit. Rather than the wide-legged stance Rex had taken, she stepped one foot back and planted it in a wide lunge. Then she aimed, sighting down the barrel with one eye, her face a mask of total concentration.

      She pulled the trigger, then kept on pulling it until the magazine was empty. Though the gun had a colossal kick, Nadia hardly seemed to notice it. Her unconventional posture seemed to work well for her.

      She laid the gun down, pulled off the ear protection, then pushed the button to bring the target close once again.

      Rex’s blood drained to his feet when he got a good look at the target. Every one of Nadia’s shots had hit the paper man in the head.

      “Damn.” Andy barely breathed the word. “Freesia, you’re not a member here, are you?”

      “No, just a guest.”

      “We could sure use you on our coed team. Lemme show you around—maybe y’all will want to join.”

      “Sure, we’d love to look around,” Nadia said. That was why they’d come, after all—to nose around, find out if anyone had seen Peter recently.

      Rex packed up the Magnum.

      “You can check that into a locker if you don’t want to carry it around,” Andy said. “The lockers are free.”

      “That’s all right, I’ll keep it,” Rex replied.

      Andy showed them around the building. They’d already seen most of it, except for a small lounge area, which was currently empty. “Members are encouraged to socialize here—but only after they’re done shooting for the day. The owners are very strict about alcohol use.”

      They went through a set of double glass doors to the outdoor range. Two men in camouflage with an arsenal of hunting rifles stood around, discussing the merits of their guns, but otherwise it was quiet.

      “There’s a trap range on the other side of that earth barricade, and also a forty-yard tin-can range.”

      They walked a little farther until they reached a small metal shed near a gate. Andy led them toward it and opened the door. “We keep reflective vests stored in here for the members’ convenience. We recommend you wear them. The wilderness area is over four hundred acres, and you never know who might be out here with a gun. You don’t want to be mistaken for a wild pig.”

      They donned the neon orange vests and walked into the wilderness as Andy explained about the bountiful dove, quail, ducks and pheasants the members bagged. “Rabbit and squirrel are fair game year round,” he added with a grin that set Rex’s teeth on edge. “Good eatin’.”

      They tromped farther out. Rex kept looking for an opening, a way he could casually ask about Peter, but he didn’t trust Andy, who seemed far too friendly, so he had to proceed with caution.

      Andy pointed out the crumbling old mansion. “Game likes to hide in there,” Andy said. “One time during a javelina hunt, I cornered something in there with red eyes, and I thought I had me a pig. It turned out to be a possum.”

      “They make a good stew,” Rex said, trying to get into the spirit of the conversation, though hunting animals had never appealed to him. He found it much more sporting to hunt something with an equivalent level of intelligence to his.

      “So, who referred you to the Payton Gun Club?” Andy asked conversationally.

      “Ace McCullough,” Rex answered. “He’s been a member a long time.”

      “I’ve heard of him, of course,” Andy said. “He’s kind of a legend. Never met him, though.”

      “I know another guy who’s a member here,” Rex said. “Peter Danilov?”

      “Oh, yeah, sure, I know Peter. He’s out here a lot.”

      Was there just the tiniest hesitation when Andy answered? “You know, I tried to get hold of that guy recently, and the number I had for him was no good. I thought maybe he’d moved away. Has he been around lately?”

      “Yeah, I saw him a coupla weeks ago,” Andy said. “When I see him again, I’ll tell him to get in touch with you.”

      “And that friend of his, Vlad—ah, hell, I can’t remember his last name.”

      “I know who you’re talking about. I couldn’t tell you his last name, either—all those Russian names sound alike to me,” he added in a good-ol’-boy twang that didn’t fool Rex.

      Andy made a show of checking his watch. “Oh, hell, I gotta go. Y’all just take your time, have a good look around. Freesia, we’d love to have you on our team. You too, Dennis,” he added as an afterthought.

      Yeah, right. Maybe Rex would join the club after all. With some practice he could at least learn to shoot a paper man with some degree of accuracy, even if he couldn’t shoot a real one.

      “So,” Nadia said as they scuffed their way along a faint path that wove through an open field of tall prairie grasses, “Peter’s been here recently. If we had Vlad’s last name…”

      “We might be able to weasel it out of the front desk guy,” Rex said, just as something whizzed by his left ear.

      His reaction was instinctual and instantaneous. He threw Nadia onto the ground and fell on top of her. The distant report of a high-caliber rifle reached his ears before he’d finished falling.

      Chapter Four

      “Crawl,” Rex ordered, easing his weight from her so she could push up to hands and knees. He positioned himself next to her, between her and the old house, which was where the bullet had come from. Somehow he dragged the gun case along with him, grateful he’d obeyed his instincts and not let Andy talk him into stowing the gun in a locker.

      “We need cover,” he said. “We need to make those trees.”

      Nadia didn’t question him. She crawled, and she did it quickly. Rex hoped the tall prairie grass would conceal their movements, but if their marksman was any good, he would see the grasses rippling in their wake.

      If he’d been the sniper, he’d have fired into the grass. But no more shots came.

      Then Rex realized why. The gunman had been shooting at Rex. He couldn’t risk shooting at grass because he might hit Nadia—and Peter needed Nadia.

      They were thirty yards from the nearest trees. But Nadia was agile and covered the distance quickly. They plunged into the woods several yards before stopping to catch their breath.

      “Is there a very stupid hunter out there?” Nadia asked in a hoarse whisper. “Or was someone shooting at us on purpose?”

      “With us in these orange vests?” Rex whispered back. “I doubt it was an accident. Anyway, bird hunters use shotguns, not rifles.” As Rex spoke, he pulled the Magnum from its case and loaded it with a fresh magazine. “Maybe I should give this to you.”

      “Don’t be ridiculous. Shooting at a target is a lot different than defending against a live shooter.”

      She didn’t know the half of it. If she had any idea of his history, she’d yank the gun out of his hand so fast…

      “Someone must have been watching for me