California Moon. Catherine Lanigan

knock. “Shannon? Are you in there?” Chelsea asked.

      “Yeah, I am.”

      “I thought I saw you disappear in there. What are you doing? You’re not authorized to dispense medication.”

      Stepping quickly behind the door, John kept the gun pointed at Shannon. Whispering, he said, “Get rid of her. Now.”

      Nodding, Shannon choked back her fear, put on a plastic smile and opened the door.

      Chelsea was clearly upset with the breach in protocol, and she liked throwing her weight around whenever possible. With Nancy gone, Chelsea was totally responsible for the floor. “What are you doing, Shannon?”

      “We’ve only got a skeleton crew tonight so I thought I’d help you out by preparing the cart.”

      Chelsea took two steps forward, obviously hoping to push her way past Shannon, but Shannon kept her hand on the open door and barred Chelsea from going any farther.

      John glared at Shannon and cocked the gun. She saw the hard glint in his eyes. Though she’d never cared for Chelsea, she realized she could never live with herself if anything happened to her.

      “You don’t even have a cart.” Chelsea tried to glance around her and into the room.

      “Yes, I do.” Shannon turned her body, indicating the two-tiered metal cart behind her.

      John’s hiss was a deadly whisper. “Get rid of her.”

      “You better take care of Mrs. Raymond, Chelsea.”

      “Yeah, I guess so. Thanks for your help, Shannon. But don’t you dare ever let it slip I allowed this. My ass would be in a sling for sure.”

      “And I’d be in that sling with you.”

      Chelsea’s eyebrow arched suspiciously over Shannon’s uncharacteristic camaraderie. “Yeah, I guess so. Thanks.”

      Shannon sensed John’s finger squeezing the trigger. She shivered, thinking how close Chelsea had come to death.

      When she closed the door, her knees were trembling so hard, she thought they’d give out.

      John darted behind Shannon and took up his arm-hold on her. He pushed her toward the door. “Is the hallway clear?”

      Cautiously, Shannon eased the door open. “Yes.”

      “Let’s go.”

      They raced around the corner and through the door to the stairwell. Shannon prayed no one was on the stairs while they made their escape down the five flights to the basement tunnel that led to the parking garage. Assuming the other floors were as quiet as the fifth, Shannon believed they’d be safe.

      But just as they reached the first floor, they heard voices, both male and female, coming from the underground-tunnel stairway directly below them. John froze. Shannon listened to the conversation and realized the couple was having an argument.

      John pulled Shannon back against the wall so the couple could not look up through the metal stairs to the landing where they were standing. His impatience over the couple’s loitering was clearly growing as his finger squeezed back on the trigger.

      Suddenly Shannon slammed her foot down on the metal step. The thudding sound echoed down the stairwell. The noise startled the couple and they quickly left the stairwell through the tunnel door to the parking garage where the elevator was located.

      Shannon and John quickly put the last flight behind them. Checking to make certain the couple was out of sight, John pushed Shannon ahead of him as they emerged into the parking garage.

      “Where’s your car?”

      “Up a half level. A15.”

      “Let’s go.”

      John followed Shannon as she walked up the incline, taking her keys out of her purse without missing a step. She walked up to the LeBaron and unlocked the door.

      John slowly eased himself into the passenger’s seat. Wincing in pain, he ordered Shannon to start the car and head out.

      “Which way?”

      “West. Just head out 79,” John groaned, holding his sore ribs.

      “To where they found you?” she asked too quickly and suddenly felt the cold gun barrel against her temple.

      “You ask too many questions.”

      “Sorry,” she breathed anxiously.

      John slumped back in the seat and allowed his eyes to close.

      Shannon drove up St. Vincent Street past Schumper Medical Center near the LSU campus, and turned west on I-20 doing just as John told her. As they passed the 220 beltway, John kept his eyes glued to the side rearview mirror. Shannon knew he was checking to see if they were being followed. She drove the speed limit but didn’t push the car any faster. She just kept her eyes on the road and drove.

      “Slow down,” John ordered as they neared the Sabine River Bridge. “It’s so dark and I was so…” He looked around. “Drive to the other side, then park the car on this side of the road. Edge off a bit toward the embankment so no one can see us.”

      Terror had exhausted her and the silence between them was more frightening than anything she’d known.

      She drove the car just as he ordered. “Is this good?”

      “Yeah.”

      “No one will see us,” she pointed out as she turned off the engine.

      “Give me the keys,” he said abruptly.

      Does he have to think of everything? She shoved the keys into his hand.

      “Now, get out and come with me.”

      “I can wait here.”

      He stuck the gun to her head. “I’d rather you didn’t.” He got out of the car, wincing in pain as he did. He kept the gun aimed at Shannon as his eyes scoured the area.

      She couldn’t fathom what he was looking for. “They took the car away a long time ago, Ben said,” she offered.

      “I’m not looking for the car.” He paused. “It was so foggy that night. I was out of it. And there wasn’t any snow,” he said, which told her he was looking for something on the ground.

      He pushed her toward the bridge sign. Scraping the ground with his foot, John cleared away the snow from around the base of the creosote-coated signpost. “Damn. They found it.”

      “Found what?”

      Growling, he grabbed her arm, pinching the fleshy underside. She noticed that he used her for balance while at the same time keeping her within striking distance. She didn’t have to imagine what that gun butt across the back of her head would feel like.

      He kept scouring the ground.

      Shannon looked for a way out.

      He kicked small rocks aside, cursing with each failure. “Where the hell are you?” he asked.

      “If you told me what you’re looking for, I could help,” she said, trying to break free and go in the opposite direction.

      He drew up short, dropped her arm and held the gun to her face with both hands. “I don’t think so. Just keep pace with me where I can see you. Okay?”

      She nodded, pressing her lips together. Turning, he stubbed his toe and nearly fell. The moon glinted off the rock.

      “Goddamn bloody rock,” he muttered.

      Shannon held her breath. Then she saw a shiny object poking out from the rock and tall grasses.

      He leaned down. “Is this my lucky day or what?”

      John was so intent on his discovery that he didn’t see Shannon take a step backward. Then two. Just one