Excerpt of Dirty Little Lies by Julie Leto

Marisela threw her elbow back hard, satisfied when she heard a breathless grunt. Spinning in the opposite direction, she built momentum so that when her fist, clutching the gun, connected with the nose of her attacker, blood spurted and the assailant dropped to the ground. She stepped back into the light as his body fell.

Good, it wasn’t Frankie.

Not that she’d feel bad if she knocked him out. He knew better than to grab her like that--which is why she hadn’t hesitated.

She quickly checked to see that the guy moaning on the ground wasn’t armed, she pistol-whipped him to silence, dragging him back into the closet from where he’d emerged. The hallway was narrow, so a chair from the kitchen jammed between the door and wall would keep it closed even after the guy woke up. Where was Frankie? Had he been attacked while she was in the house? She and Tracy had been talking for a while. Was this another warning, another attack to convince them to back off?

Marisela crouched down and scrambled back to the bathroom. She knocked lightly on the door.

“Don’t open it, Tracy. It’s me. Are you still in there?”

She heard a whimper.

“Are you okay?”

A long pause. “I’m...okay.”

“Get ready to bolt. I just found the guy in your house.”

“Where?”

“Don’t worry. I took care of him, but I don’t think he was alone and I think his friends may have jumped Frankie. I’m going to cause a diversion out front. When I do, I want you to scramble to the truck, got it? Don’t look back. Just get out. Drive like a bat out of hell. Don’t stop for red lights. In fact, don’t stop until you’re with Parker. Can you do that?”

The whimpers increased, followed by a series of deep, nearly hyperventilating breaths.

“Tracy?”

“I don’t know where he lives,” she confessed. “He always visits me!”

Damn. Damn, damn, damn.

“Okay, where can you go?”

“I have a neighbor, a few farms down. Her husband used to be a marine. I’ll be safe, there.”

Marisela blew out a relieved breath. “Good thinking. You bust your ass getting there and then stay inside until I personally come get you, got it?”

“Yes,” Tracy said.

With a nod, Marisela made her way to the back door, crouched down so no one peeking through windows would see her. Not only did she want Tracy safe, she wanted to hear the rest of the story. So much didn’t make sense. There was a good chance that somewhere in the blanks Tracy had yet to fill was the answer to who had hired Yizenia Santiago. Marisela couldn’t imagine that Tracy had had anything to do with the assassin. She wasn’t yet one- hundred percent sure about Parker, but she doubted he’d knowingly put his remaining sister in harm’s way. That left the identity of the person who hired Yizenia wide open--which put them all in danger.

The guy who’d attacked her in the hall wasn’t the same sort of punk who’d ambushed them last night, but he was only a slight upgrade. She could smell hired muscle, and this jerk stank. But who had hired him? Did he work for Yizenia? Parker? Some third unknown party they still knew nothing about?

She hurried to the back door and caught sight of movement inside the barn. Her main firepower was in the car, so Marisela cut around to the front of the house. She sprinted across the yard only to find the Corvette door locked and Frankie, wherever the hell he was, had the only key.

If she’d had her tools, she’d be inside by now. She could break in, but in the time it took for her to crack through the glass and retrieve her big guns, she could be ambushed. She’d have to improvise.

She promised Tracy a diversion, but thought better of it with no one visible in the front yard. The animals weren’t happy in the barn, however, giving Marisela a clue to where the real action was going down. She dashed around the house to the bathroom window, knocked vigorously so Tracy would leave, then cut across the yard until her back was pressed flat against the outside of the barn.

She anticipated that the sound of Tracy’s engine revving might bring the attackers out of hiding, so she waited while Tracy hopped into the cab, turned the ignition and sent the truck flying backward in a cloud of gravel and dust. Just as she ground the pick-up into drive, someone flew out of the barn. Marisela waited the split second to make sure it wasn’t Frankie, then she kicked the guy in the small of the back, sending him sprawling onto the dirt and gravel road.

“Move and I’ll blast your fucking head off,” she screamed, gun aimed and ready, though she had no intention of killing the man. This day wouldn’t end in more questions. She wanted answers.

He looked about ready to jump to his feet when the sun glinted off her weapon. Heheld up his hands. “Don’t shoot!”

“What? And ruin my fun?”

She cocked the hammer.

He froze like a popsicle.

“That’s more like it,” she said, her tone even. “Toss down your weapon.”

“I’m clean,” he insisted, hands high. “I swear!”

She arched a brow, but wasn’t going to chance patting the guy down. “You came here unarmed? That’s not too bright. Who are you?”

“Look, lady. We’re just here to make you stop.”

“Stop what? Picking berries? Where’s my partner?”

The man’s eyes widened. His lips twitched. “What partner?”

His gaze shifted suddenly and Marisela dove over him, certain she felt a presence behind her. By the time she rolled back to her feet, she saw her instincts were right. She fired, but the guy she’d vaulted over kicked the weapon out of her hand before she could make her mark, sending the Ladysmith flying into the nearby grass.