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  Praise for John Gilstrap

  NICK OF TIME

  “A page-turning thriller with strong characters, excit-

  ing action, and a big heart.”

  —Heather Graham

  AGAINST ALL ENEMIES

  “Any John Gilstrap novel packs the punch of a

  rocket-propelled grenade—on steroids! Tentacles of

  intrigue reach into FBI headquarters and military

  hierarchy. Lines are crossed and new ones drawn. The

  philosophy of killing to preserve life takes on new

  meaning. Gilstrap grabs the reader’s attention in a

  literary vise grip. Each installment of the Jonathan

  Grave series is a force majeure of covert incursions,

  and a damn good read.”

  —BookReporter.com

  “Tense, clever . . . series enthusiasts are bound to

  enjoy this new thriller.”

  —Library Journal

  END GAME

  AN AMAZON EDITORS’ FAVORITE BOOK OF THE YEAR

  “Gilstrap’s new Jonathan Grave thriller is his best

  novel to date—even considering his enviable

  bibliography. End Game starts off explosively

  and keeps on rolling. Gilstrap puts you in the

  moment as very few authors can. And there are

  many vignettes that will stay with you long after

  you have finished the book.”

  —Joe Hartlaub, BookReporter.com

  DAMAGE CONTROL

  “Powerful and explosive, an unforgettable journey

  into the dark side of the human soul. Gilstrap is a

  master of action and drama. If you like Vince Flynn

  and Brad Thor, you’ll love John Gilstrap.”

  —Gayle Lynds

  “Rousing . . . Readers will anxiously await

  the next installment.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “It’s easy to see why John Gilstrap is the go-to

  guy among thriller writers, when it comes to

  weapons, ammunition, and explosives. His

  expertise is uncontested.”

  —John Ramsey Miller

  “The best page-turning thriller I’ve grabbed in

  ages. Gilstrap is one of the very few writers who

  can position a set of characters in a situation, ramp

  up the tension, and—yes, keep it there, all the

  way through. There is no place you can put

  this book down.”

  —Beth Kanell, Kingdom Books, Vermont

  “A page-turning, near-perfect thriller, with

  engaging and believable characters . . .

  unputdownable! Warning—if you must be up

  early the next morning, don’t start the book.”

  —Top Mystery Novels

  “Takes you full force right away and doesn’t let go

  until the very last page . . . has enough full-bore

  action to take your breath away, barely giving you

  time to inhale. The action is nonstop. Gilstrap knows

  his technology and weaponry. Damage Control will

  blow you away.”

  —Suspense Magazine

  THREAT WARNING

  “If you are a fan of thriller novels, I hope you’ve been

  reading John Gilstrap’s Jonathan Grave series. Threat

  Warning is a character-driven work where the vehicle

  has four on the floor and horsepower to burn. From

  beginning to end, it is dripping with excitement.”

  —Joe Hartlaub, BookReporter.com

  “If you like Vince Flynn–style action, with a

  strong, incorruptible hero, this series deserves to be

  in your reading diet. Threat Warning reconfirms

  Gilstrap as a master of jaw-dropping action and

  heart-squeezing suspense.”

  —Austin Camacho, The Big Thrill

  HOSTAGE ZERO

  “Jonathan Grave, my favorite freelance peacemaker,

  problem-solver, and tough guy hero, is back—and in

  particularly fine form. Hostage Zero is classic

  Gilstrap: the people are utterly real, the action’s foot

  to the floor, and the writing’s fluid as a well-oiled

  machine gun. A tour de force!”

  —Jeffery Deaver

  HOSTAGE ZERO

  “This addictively readable thriller marries a

  breakneck pace to a complex, multilayered plot.... A

  roller coaster ride of adrenaline-inducing plot twists

  leads to a riveting and highly satisfying conclusion.

  Exceptional characterization and an intricate,

  flawlessly crafted story line make this an absolute

  must read for thriller fans.”

  —Publishers Weekly (starred review)

  NO MERCY

  “No Mercy grabs hold of you on page one and doesn’t

  let go. Gilstrap’s new series is terrific. It will leave

  you breathless. I can’t wait to see what Jonathan

  Grave is up to next.”

  —Harlan Coben

  “The release of a new John Gilstrap novel is always

  worth celebrating, because he’s one of the finest

  thriller writers on the planet. No Mercy showcases

  his work at its finest—taut, action-packed, and

  impossible to put down!”

  —Tess Gerritsen

  “A great hero, a pulse-pounding story—and the

  launch of a really exciting series.”

  —Joseph Finder

  “An entertaining, fast-paced tale of

  violence and revenge.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “No other writer is better able to combine in a single

  novel both rocket-paced suspense and heartfelt looks

  at family and the human spirit. And what a pleasure

  to meet Jonathan Grave, a hero for our time . . . and

  for all time.”

  —Jeffery Deaver

  AT ALL COSTS

  “Riveting . . . combines a great plot and realistic,

  likable characters with look-over-your-shoulder

  tension. A page turner.”

  —The Kansas City Star

  “Gilstrap builds tension . . . until the last page, a

  hallmark of great thriller writers. I almost called the

  paramedics before I finished At All Costs.”

  —Tulsa World

  “Gilstrap has ingeniously twisted his simple premise

  six ways from Sunday.”

  —Kirkus Reviews

  “Not-to-be-missed.”

  —Rocky Mountain News

  NATHAN’S RUN

  “Gilstrap pushes every thriller button . . . a nail-biting

  denouement and strong characters.”

  —San Francisco Chronicle

  “Gilstrap has a shot at being the next John

  Grisham . . . one of the best books of the year.”

  —Rocky Mountain News

  “Emotionally charged . . . one of the year’s best.”

  —Chicago Tribune

  “Brilliantly calculated . . . With the skill of a veteran

  pulp master, Gilstrap weaves a yarn that demands to

  be read in one sitting.”

  —Publishers Weekly (starred review)

  “Like a roller coaster, the story races along on

  well-oiled wheels to an undeniably

  pulse-pounding conclusion.”

  —Kirkus Reviews (starred review)

  ALSO BY JOHN GILSTRAP

  Friendly Fire

  Against All Enemies


  End Game

  Soft Targets

  High Treason

  Damage Control

  Threat Warning

  Hostage Zero

  No Mercy

  Six Minutes to Freedom

  Scott Free

  Even Steven

  At All Costs

  Nathan’s Run

  JOHN GILSTRAP

  NICK OF TIME

  TIME TO HIDE

  KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.

  www.kensingtonbooks.com

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  Praise for John Gilstrap

  ALSO BY JOHN GILSTRAP

  Title Page

  Previously in Nick of Time

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  TIME TO STEAL

  Teaser chapter

  Copyright Page

  Previously in Nick of Time

  The year is 1999. Seventeen-year-old Nicki Janssen has been told she has only a year to live. She decides she’d rather live out the rest of her days on the run with the boy of her dreams, ex-convict Brad Ward, than endure endless and probably hopeless medical treatments. Her father, prosecutor Carter Janssen, is determined to find his daughter and get her the transplant that could save her life. He calls on his allies in law enforcement to track the two runaways from upstate New York into the upscale suburbs of Washington, DC. Meanwhile, in North Carolina, sheriff’s deputy Darla Sweet has a pair of stoned teenagers to deal with—and one of them happens to be her boss’s son. . . .

  Chapter One

  Surf’s Up Amusements was a terrible place to be under any circumstances, but in these off-season days it was particularly creepy—a playground for rats that doubled as a den of iniquity for druggies and horny teenagers. To be arrested in a place like this had to be particularly humiliating.

  Jeremy Hines grew old before Darla’s eyes, and as the minutes ticked by, she felt guilty that she hadn’t looked the other way and saved these kids the humiliation that was barreling toward them. She’d turned her back on the opportunity to do a good deed.

  Even Peter-the-mouth had settled down.

  To make her point as vividly as possible, she’d cuffed them both, hands behind their backs. They sat in the sand with their legs folded, and the effects of the pot had dwindled to nearly nothing.

  Peter cleared his throat to get Darla’s attention. “I guess it’s too late to apologize?”

  She pruned up her face and gave a sarcastic nod. “Yeah, I think so.”

  “I notice you didn’t tell the sheriff why you wanted him here.”

  “And I notice that you really don’t know how to keep your lip zipped.”

  “How about if I tell you that this is Numb Nuts’s first time doing weed?” Peter asked.

  “Don’t,” Jeremy commanded.

  “Why not? It’s the truth.”

  Darla tried to see Jeremy’s eyes, but he was busy studying his ankles. His pharmaceutical virginity seemed to be a source of embarrassment.

  “Why today, then?” Darla asked.

  Peter answered, “I talked him into it.” He clearly knew that Darla didn’t believe a word, so he added, “Him and his old man are at war, okay?”

  “Shut up, Peter!” The vehemence of Jeremy’s outburst convinced Darla that Peter was dancing perilously close to the truth.

  “No, you shut up,” Peter fired back. Then, to Darla, “Look, I’m the bad influence, okay? I’m the druggie. The homeless guy. The perpetual screwup. I figured that he needed a little weed, and I needed a little cover. This arrest’d be my third and a felony, and I figured there was no way they could lock me up and let him go, you know? Hell, the chances of getting caught in the first place are like, what? Nothing in a million? And I thought it was zero that you’d cut paper on the sheriff’s kid.”

  “So you were using him,” Darla concluded.

  “We use each other. I take him places where he’d be afraid to go on his own.”

  “You better keep me cuffed, Deputy,” Jeremy growled. “When you let me go, I’m gonna kill this asshole.”

  Peter laughed, but somehow he did it in a way that was free of derision. “He says that a lot. Fact is, he can’t afford to kill me.”

  “How’s that?” Darla asked.

  “His scholarship. He’s off to UNC next year on a baseball scholarship. Room, board, everything. That kind of shit goes on his record—or a drug conviction goes on his record—and he’ll be cleaning condos next year instead.”

  One look at Jeremy told Darla that she was hearing fact. “So, why do you do this?” she asked. “Why would you take the chance?”

  “Ask Peter,” Jeremy mumbled. “He knows all the answers.”

  “I want to hear from you.” When Jeremy still wouldn’t answer, she turned back to Peter.

  “He hates baseball,” Peter said.

  Darla didn’t get it. “So, why—”

  “He doesn’t hate his teeth. Or his bones. All of which Sheriff Daddy is going to break when he gets here.”

  Darla tried to figure out the dynamic that was unfolding here. She couldn’t tell if Peter was trying to be Jeremy’s friend, or if he was just goading him on. Certainly, he seemed dialed in to the other boy’s secrets. For his part, all Jeremy did was turn red.

  Her portable radio broke squelch. “Unit six-oh-one’s out at the Surf’s Up.” It was Sheriff Hines, and within seconds, Darla heard the sound of his tires crunching gravel. She turned to see the sheriff’s specially outfitted Suburban pulling to a stop. A glance toward Jeremy made her wonder if the young man might pee in his pants.

  Frank Hines had been sheriff of Essex County, North Carolina, for twenty-three years, and he carried himself with the arrogant grace of someone who not only enforced the law, but owned it as well. Not especially tall, he was nonetheless a big man, stocky and powerful. He wore his khaki uniform a bit too tight, highlighting a prominent gut that looked solid as stone. She could tell at a glance that he was angry.

  “Deputy Sweet,” he said, “in the future, when I ask you what a visit is in regard to, you by Jesus better answer up and tell me.” His voice sounded half an octave too high for the size of his body.

  “I’m sorry, Sheriff, but I thought that discretion might be the order of the day on this one.”

  Hines’s scowl transformed from a mask of curiosity to one of furor. He saw his son on the ground in the classic pose of a perp under arrest, and then shifted his white-hot eyes to his deputy. “Speak,” he said.

  “They were doing drugs.” Darla said the words as quickly as possible, with the intent of knocking the sheriff off balance. “Smoking weed. That one over there started running his mouth, and here we are.”

  Sheriff Frank Hines worked his jaw muscles hard. His gaze shifted to Peter Banks, whose face showed only contempt. There was history here that Darla didn’t comprehend, but clearly the animosity ran deep between these two.

  Without a word, Sheriff Hines moved toward Peter. As he closed to within two feet, he unleashed a brutal kick to the boy’s thigh. Peter howled and rolled to his side, struggling, with his hands tethered behind him, to rise to his feet. A second kick had to break some ribs.

  “Jesus, Sheriff!” Darla shouted. Jeremy winced at the sight and looked away.

  “Stay outta this, Deputy,” Hines growled. Then, to Peter: “I thought I told you to stay the hell away from my boy.” A third kick was more like a shove with the sole of his shoe. Peter landed on his face, then curled up in a protective ball, sputtering and choking in search of a breath.

  The sheriff turned to his son. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

  Jeremy looked away.

  “Talk to me, boy, before I break every tooth in your head.”

  Darla stepped forward, tried to get between the
m. “Come on, Sheriff, let’s not—”

  Hines froze her in her tracks with a forefinger aimed at her nose. His thumb was up, forming what looked like a pretend gun. “You’ve done your job,” he said. “I can take it from here. This is a family affair.”

  Hines lifted his son by the hair, pulling him to his feet. Jeremy had to move quickly to keep his scalp from being torn from his skull.

  “I asked you a question, boy. What the hell were you thinking, doing drugs in my county?”

  “I wasn’t thinking at all, sir.” Jeremy’s answer had monotonous quality of a memorized rejoinder.

  Hines glared, as if trying to set the boy afire with his eyes. Then, his head turned, and he again focused on Peter. “Is this your doing, Peter?”

  Peter didn’t attempt to respond, struggling instead for his next breath.

  “I’m calling for an ambulance,” Darla said, reaching for her radio.

  “No, you’re not,” the sheriff said.

  “But he can’t breathe.”

  “He’s okay,” the sheriff said. “He just had the wind knocked out of him.” He turned to Peter. “Ain’t that right, son?”

  Peter managed a nod.

  “See? What did I tell you?”

  “You can’t beat these boys, Sheriff,” Darla said, trying to keep the tone of her voice steady.