SPY IN THE SADDLE Read Online Free Page B

keep this wild-card team in line, and she was the woman to do it.
    Shep might have been her parole officer at one point. She might have had a crush on him so bad she hadn’t been able to see straight, but a lot of things had changed since then. She was here to do a job.
    She opened her mouth to tell him that, but he pointed straight ahead, cutting her off. “There.”
    The red Mustang was a speck in the distance ahead of them.
    He floored the gas and did his best to catch up, scaring innocent motorists half to death in the process as he whipped around them like a race-car driver.
    But when he finally reached the red Mustang, it picked up speed. So did he. Was he insane? Nobody could fully control a car at speeds like this.
    She meant to read him the riot act, but he cut her off, once again, before she could have gotten the first word out.
    “Take over the wheel.”
    “What? No—” But she had to grab the damn thing when he let go without even looking at her.
    Then he took the safety off his gun, rolled down his window, pulled the upper half of his body outside and started shooting at the men in the car in front of them.
    Of course, they shot back.
    * * *
    S HEP TRIED TO HIT the back tire, but the Mustang sat low to the ground and he was high up in the SUV, nearly sitting in the window, so the angle wasn’t much to work with. He couldn’t shoot at the two idiots inside the car, which would have been easier. They needed them alive for interrogation.
    “Coming in.” He popped back onto his seat and grabbed the wheel from Lilly, who slid back into her own seat to make room for him, shooting him a murderous look, her full lips pressed into a severe line.
    He floored the gas and rammed the car in front of them.
    The Mustang nearly swerved into oncoming traffic.
    Lilly braced herself on the dashboard. “Slow down! You’re endangering civilians on the road. Shep!”
    “Take over the shooting. It’s easier for you to use your right hand.” He needed both hands for the ramming.
    “This isn’t how it’s done. Public safety always comes first.”
    When the hell did she turn all prim and proper? “The public is safe. Unless you’re a bad shot.”
    She said something under her breath he didn’t catch.
    “Listen—” He rammed the Mustang again. “I don’t know how you do things at the FBI, but this is not white-glove law enforcement. You’re in the combat-boot section now. If you want to stay here, you’re going to have to step up to the plate.”
    She unsnapped her seat belt, muttering something under her breath, then rolled her window down and leaned out.
    He did his best to keep the car steady for her.
    She shot at the tire, didn’t have any more luck than he’d had, with the Mustang swerving. She leaned out a little farther.
    The man in the passenger seat shot back at her.
    She didn’t even flinch.
    Shep could see from the corner of his eye as she lifted her aim. And shot the bastard straight through the wrist.
    “Good shot.” He flashed her a grin as she pulled back into the cab. But then the smile froze on his face.
    Crimson covered her ripped suit sleeve.
    His blood ran cold as he watched hers drip. “You’re hit.”
    He slammed on the breaks and did a U-turn, tires squealing, horns beeping around them as he plowed into the opposite lane, back the way they’d come. Oh, hell.
    She was shooting him the megadeath glare. “What are you doing? Are you insane?”
    If he was, he was entitled to it with her showing up in his life after all these years without warning. He straightened the car on the road. “Taking you to the hospital.”
    “The bullet didn’t hit bone. It’s not that serious.” She held the bloody arm up, bent at the elbow, and looked under her sleeve for a few seconds before she flexed her elbow. She winced and tried her best to hide it, turning her head.
    He stepped harder on the gas. Oh, man. He’d had her for only an hour and he’d broken her already.
    Jamie was going to kill