CHAPTER SIXTEEN
It was a cheap revolver, with a worn handle and a couple of chips on the metal. The kind you might buy for fifty bucks at a pawn shop or in a back alley. Still, Alexa didn’t underestimate it. It was barely two feet from her head and the hand that held it did not waver a millimeter.
Alexa looked beyond the g*n, a hard thing to do when one is pointed at you, and focused on the man behind it.
Right away she knew she had come to the right place. The man looked in his forties, haggard with deep worry lines, but the family resemblance to the man she had briefly glimpsed in the firefight was obvious.
As was his fear.
“Who are you?” Erasmo demanded.
Alexa lowered her voice. “Deputy U.S. Marshal Alexa Chase. I’m hunting for your … cousin?”
Erasmo nodded. His lips twisting as
