No Exit by Taylor Adams 2

nuzzled the Glock 17 into the back of the man’s neck. He
squeezed the trigger … but stopped.
Again, he’d gotten that feeling. That odd electricity.
Someone was standing behind him.
What now?
He turned around, half-expecting to see the ragged ghost
of Darby Thorne, back for bloody revenge — but the figure
standing behind him was shorter, smaller. It was Jay. Just
harmless little Jaybird, in her red Pokeball shirt, about to
witness another murder. Honestly, he’d forgotten all about her.
But yeah, even with Lars out of the picture, he could still
deliver her to Fat Kenny, and fetch a tidy sum for as long as
she lasted—
She had something in her hand.
At first he thought it was Sandi’s pepper spray.
But then the seven-year-old raised it — reflecting a glint
of firelight — and Ashley realized with a jolt of terror that it
was something far worse. It was Lars’s Beretta. She must have
picked it up from the red snow by Darby’s body when he
hadn’t been looking, and now here it was, in Jaybird’s shaky
little fingers.
Aimed at him.
Again.
He groaned. “Oh, come on—”
CRACK.