The Last Second Read Online Free

to the road. “Getting out of the car . . . Gun!” She pulled Trish down onto the porch a second before the first shot rang out. Bits of rock and dust went flying past Griffin’s face.
    Griffin dove to the ground, on the far side of the rocks. A second shot rang out. Max gave a sharp cry.
    Unsure if he was hit or simply scared, Griffin called him. “Max! Come!”
    The dog obeyed. Griffin grabbed him by the collar, so he couldn’t run off. Although Griffin couldn’t see the officer, he wasn’t about to poke his head up over the low wall to look, so he held the dog to the ground next to him. From that distance, it had to be a long-­range rifle. “Sydney! Visual?”
    “Clear! . . . Run!”
    Gripping Max’s collar, he sprinted up the hill to the house, onto the porch where Sydney and Trish hid. Sydney was standing behind the trellis, the thick, leafless vines giving her cover as she watched.
    “What’s he doing?”
    “Backing up, I’m assuming so he can call in reinforcements.”
    “We could use some big guns of our own,” he said, pulling out his cell phone. Tucson’s FBI field office was the closest. Only one problem. “No signal.”
    In fact, no one had a signal, and Trish said, “Come to think of it, every time I’ve come, I haven’t been able to get ser­vice on this hill. I just thought it was my phone.”
    “They must have a jamming device,” he said.
    “What does that do?” Trish asked.
    “Used by the military to block radio or phone signals that might detonate a remote-­controlled improvised explosive device. A good idea if you’ve got something wired to blow.”
    “That,” Sydney added, “is a mighty sophisticated piece of equipment for a two-­bit town like this. So where do you think they have it?”
    Griffin looked around the property, eventually spying an old wooden shed about fifty yards down the hill. “Probably in there.”
    “We could always shoot it. The wood looks like it’s ready to fall off anyway.”
    “Not a good idea when you’re sitting on top of who knows how much explosives. Right now, the jamming device is a good thing.”
    “One of us could leave and call for help,” Sydney suggested, and he knew she meant Trish, hoping to keep her safe.
    Unfortunately there was not enough cover between there and the gate. “Too risky.”
    “I don’t understand,” Trish said. “Why would they need a jammer if no one’s coming in until tomorrow to set up the detonation?”
    “A very good point,” Griffin replied. “I think it’s time we find out.” He turned to examine the door.
    Trish looked aghast. “Do you really think it’s safe to go in there?”
    “No choice. I can’t tell where the biggest threat comes from. The cop shooting at us or in the basement. Any chance you can keep watch out here while Sydney and I check?”
    “Sure,” Trish said.
    Sydney reached out, touched her shoulder. “Stay out of sight and let us know when anyone else arrives or they start moving this way.”
    Trish nodded, then focused on the officer. “He’s just standing behind his door, the rifle pointed this way.”
    Figuring they had about ten minutes before reinforcements arrived from town, Griffin examined the door, hoping no one had thought to booby-­trap it. Seeing nothing that alarmed him, he gave it a good kick. It flew open, hit the interior wall, then bounced back.
    He pushed it wide, took a look in. The place appeared as though someone had started gutting the house, but stopped midway. Walls were torn down, jagged piles of Sheetrock remnants filled one corner, and an extension ladder leaned against the wall in the other. The wood-­planked floor was warped, but felt solid beneath his feet. To the right, stairs ascended to the second floor. And to the right of that, there was a partially open door. Before he could determine where it led, the dog bolted forward, pushed through the door, then on down another staircase.
    “Max!” Griffin called out.
    The last thing they