Free Cold Case at Cobra Creek by Rita Herron Page A

car burst into flames.
    Dugan yanked the wheel to the left to avoid crashing into it, then swung the SUV to the side of the road and threw it into Park.
    Then he jumped out and ran toward the burning vehicle. Déjà vu struck Sage, images of flames shooting from Ron’s car two years ago pummeling her.
    That night she’d been terrified Benji had been inside the car.
    Today...the driver had shot at them. Tried to kill them.
    Why? Because she was asking questions about Benji?
    She jerked herself from her immobilized state and climbed out. Dugan circled the car, peering in the window as if looking for a way to get the driver out. But the gas tank blew, another explosion sounded and flames engulfed the vehicle.
    Sweat beaded on her forehead, the heat scalding her. She backed away, hugging the side of the SUV as she watched Dugan. He must have realized it was impossible to save the driver, because he strode back toward her, his expression grim.
    “Did you see who it was?”
    “A man. I didn’t recognize him.” Dugan punched a number into his phone. “Jaxon, it’s Dugan. I want you to run a plate for me.”
    Dugan recited the license number, then ran a hand through his hair while he waited.
    “Who?” A pause. “No, send a crime team. He’s dead, but maybe they can find some evidence from the car.”
    When he hung up, Sage asked, “Who did the car belong to?”
    “Registered to a man named Joel Bremmer.”
    “Bremmer?”
    Dugan nodded. “One of Ron Lewis’s aliases.”
    Sage gasped. “But Ron is dead, so he couldn’t have been driving the car.”
    Questions darkened Dugan’s eyes. “I know. The M.E. will work on ID once he gets him to the morgue.”
    Sage gritted her teeth. “Do you think he was working with Ron?”
    “That’s possible.” Dugan traced his thumb under her chin. “Are you okay?”
    She nodded, although she was trembling. Heat reddened his face, the scent of smoke and hot metal permeating him.
    “Someone doesn’t like us asking questions, Sage. But that means we might be on the right track to finding some answers.”
    Dugan’s gruff voice wrapped around her just as his arms did, and for the first time in two years, she allowed herself to lean on another man.
    * * *
    D UGAN STROKED S AGE’S BACK , soothing her with soft, nonsensical words.
    Whoever the bastard was driving the car—he had almost killed them. An inch or two to the right, and that bullet would have pierced Sage’s skull.
    Cold fear and rage made him burn as hot as the fire consuming the shooter’s car.
    If Sage had died...
    No, she was fine. So was he. And he wasn’t going to stop until he unearthed the truth. The fact that someone had shot at them meant he was on the right path. That someone was afraid he’d find Lewis’s killer and Benji.
    A siren wailed, and Dugan released Sage. “Are you all right now?”
    She nodded and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Yes, thanks, Dugan.”
    Blue lights twirled as the sheriff’s car and a fire engine careened toward them. The fire truck screeched to a stop, three firemen jumping down along with a female firefighter who’d been driving.
    They rushed to extinguish the blaze while Sheriff Gandt lumbered toward them. “What happened?”
    Dugan explained, “The car ran up on us, and the driver shot at us.” He pointed out the bullet hole in the back of his SUV. “I swerved to avoid him and he sped past. Then I turned around and tried to catch him, but he lost control and crashed.”
    Gandt scowled as he looked from Dugan to Sage. “He just come up and shot at you, out of the blue?”
    Dugan choked back an obscenity. Gandt was the sheriff and he had to cooperate. If he didn’t, the jerk would probably lock him up and then he couldn’t find the truth. But he didn’t like it. “Yes.”
    “You’ve been asking questions about Lewis?”
    Dugan nodded. “Turns out Ron Lewis had a few other names he went by,” he said. “Then again, I’m sure you already know