Detective Danny Cavanaugh 01 - The Brink

considered how his body would be identified.
    He opened his wallet, revealing his Texas Ranger badge. She leaned forward and studied it. Then she looked back up at him. Satisfied, she lowered the log but held it firm in front of her chest.
    Danny couldn’t help but look her over again. A jagged band of blood stained her ankle. There were no cuts or abrasions on her skin.
    “That your blood?” he asked, pointing to her ankle.
    She examined her ankle. “No.”
    “Then whose is it?”
    She stared at Danny without answering. He took a few moments to analyze her body language. She was standing there, her toned appendages tensed with adrenaline. She tried looking tough, but Danny read her eyes. She was scared shitless.
    “Look,” he continued, “I’m here to help you. But you need to be straight with me.”
    The French goddess filled her lungs and opened her mouth. Danny was about to get his confession when her molten eyes darted beyond him and flashed with terror.

Chapter 11
    Look out!
    Sydney opened her mouth to scream, but the words didn’t come. Fortunately, she didn’t have to warn Danny. He reacted to the horrified look on her face by rolling forward. He ended up in a crouched position with his rifle aimed at the guard from Sydney’s bathroom.
    Danny ordered the guard to freeze, which he did. His face still leaked blood from the gashes he sustained from the stained-glass window. Although the toothbrush was gone, the guard’s ear and half his head were soaked in darkened blood. His eyes finally swung over to her.
    If looks could kill , Sydney thought, the guard would have murdered me several times over and used my carcass for numerous unspeakable acts .
    “Drop your weapon,” Danny said. The guard stared at him again, but the knife stayed in his hand.
    “Drop the knife,” Danny repeated.
    The guard didn’t move.
    “ Gota tu arma ,” Danny ordered in Spanish, no doubt mistaking the guard’s black Irish looks for Hispanic. The guard still didn’t budge.
    Sydney tried to help. She pointed at Danny and told the guard, “Are you fucking crazy? The guy’s a mercenary. Do as he says or he’ll shoot you where you stand.”
    Danny eyed her. Sydney suddenly remembered how she was dressed, but modesty wasn’t something she was prone to. After all, she’d performed in front of hundreds of people in swimsuits just as skimpy.
    Sydney tightened her grip on the log, willing herself confidence. She wanted to tell Danny that others were no doubt coming for her, and fast. They didn’t have time for whatever was transpiring here in the woods. Her legs were brimming with nervous energy. She wanted them to carry her far away from this place.
    “Drop the fucking knife!” Danny snapped. Sydney watched both men’s eyes. Each sighted the other’s stare. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Danny’s body tense. She dare not shift her head for fear of the guard figuring out what he was doing.
    Then it happened.

Chapter 12
    Danny lunged at the man and used his rifle like a bat, knocking the knife from the man’s grip. The impact sent it flying into the bushes. Danny then swept his legs out from underneath him, knocking the man to the dirt. Danny pounced on top of him and wrapped his arm around the man’s throat. He had used this hold only a half dozen times over his career. He had subdued a father who nearly beat his six-year-old son to death, he kept a husband holding his wife hostage from blowing off her head with a shotgun, and he had used it to restrain a few violent drunks. He learned the highly illegal hold at the police academy in Houston. While it walked all over the rights of the suspect, it was the most effective way to gain control of a situation without the use of lethal force.
    “Did you kill him?” the woman asked.
    “No,” Danny answered as he guided the man’s limp body to the ground. “I made him pass out.”
    She edged over to the man. “How long will he be unconscious?”
    “Long enough.” Danny retrieved the knife from the bushes. It was a Junglee Extreme Forces model, a favorite weapon of military types. Although a weapon like this one could slice through rope or saw through a small tree limb in seconds, it was intended for only one use: close combat.
    Danny glanced at the woman. She was still studying the motionless body at her feet. Suddenly, she held the log away from her chest and let it drop. It landed with a thud on the guard’s chest. He didn’t move an inch. She’s