A half-hour later, Shea was dressed and ready to go. She’d clipped the spring-assisted jackknife next to the Glock’s holster in her waistband, out of sight but easy to reach.
“Be careful,” said Jessica.
“Always.” Shea smiled and followed Wendy out to her car. “I guess I got shotgun.”
Wendy donned a pair of orange shades. “Got that right, sister.”
The morning air was warm, humid, and heavy with the promise of an afternoon monsoon. They drove back to the main highway and wound up the hill. As they cruised through Olde Towne Sycamore Springs, Shea spotted a dark SUV parked in front of Iron Goddess.
A jolt of fear hit Shea. Were the Jaguars at Iron Goddess looking for her and their stolen hex?
“Stop!”
“What’s wrong?” Wendy tapped the brakes.
“Pull into Iron Goddess. Swing around to the
