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She lifted the shotgun to her shoulder, but she had no clear shot at the crouching Boone, knife held low His ar slice of the blade point, drawing an ugly laugh froh the air in front of Quint

Dallas wanted to tell hiet out of the way, but she wasthrust with the knife Quint sidestepped, but the blade’s back-slice caught his ar an instant spurt of blood onto the material

Before Dallas could ain This tirabbed the arm with the knife and tried to wrest it away froether in an ever-changing shift of bodies to counter weight or leverage

Dallas was never sure what happened next—if it was a deliberate or an accidental tangle of legs that took both ht of the knife when they fell Suddenly both men went still

With her heart in her throat, Dallas waited, the fear of what this could un Then Boone asped back a little sob and slipped her finger across the trigger Then she saw the knife buried in Boone’s chest and the blood that smeared the front of his shirt

And there was Quint, grabbing onto the counter and pulling hi li in exhaustion as he looked down at Boone

Relief turned her legs to jelly Hurriedly Dallas lowered the shotgun, but she was too well schooled in firear it open and re the shells

Only when it was safely unloaded did Dallas thrust it aside and hurry to Quint He was propped against the counter, a gray dullness to his eyes

“I’ smile

“No, you’re not You’re bleeding to death” Dallas grabbed a dish towel out of the drawer and tied it around his upper arash

“Did you call the police?” His voice had the flatness of sapped strength

“Yes” Until that otten that

“Thatnow,” he mumbled

Belatedly Dallas identified the wail of the sirens in the background, separating their sound fro played on the radio

As their screalance at Boone’s motionless form, not really sure if he was alive or dead Truthfully she didn’t care