The Never Game. Jeffery Deaver

also be cautious. He would have seen Shaw at San Miguel Park and suspected he wasn’t the law but he couldn’t be sure. And would be assuming Shaw was armed.

      Shaw glanced at Kyle Butler.

      Dead, glazed eyes and shattered temple. Much blood.

      And then, for the moment, Shaw forced himself to forget about him entirely.

      He backed away, crouching, heading for the drive where he’d spotted the bent grass. As he did, he punched in 911 and reported an “active shooter” at the old AGW plant off Tamyen Road.

      He whispered to the dispatcher, “Do you know where that is?”

      “Yessir, we’ll have units responding. Stay on the line, please, and give me your—”

      He disconnected.

      All Shaw had to do now was find cover and avoid getting shot. He guessed that X would figure that he, whether civilian or cop, would have called for help. The kidnapper would flee.

      Except, apparently, X hadn’t done that at all.

      Above Shaw came a crash of shattering glass and around him shards fell to the ground as he crouched and covered his head with his arm.

      X wasn’t finished yet. He’d gotten into the factory and climbed to an upper floor where he’d have a clearer shot at Shaw. He was now about to stick his head and arm out the window he’d just smashed and pepper Shaw with rounds.

      There was no cover here, not for fifty feet.

      Shaw turned and began sprinting toward the closest warehouse, waiting for the pop, then the slam of the slug in his back.

      That didn’t happen.

      Instead, he heard from inside a woman’s fierce scream. He stopped and looked back.

      It was Sophie Mulliner who stood at the shattered window, her face turned toward the bloody body of Kyle Butler.

      Then she looked at Shaw. A look of pure rage filled her face. “What’ve you done? What’ve you done?”

      She vanished inside.