Aubrey leaned back against the side of the boat, working to loosen her hands while her captor steered the boat through the narrow inlet. Her head pounded, and she’d sliced her leg on something, but at least she was still alive. She couldn’t say that about Papps. If his family hadn’t found him by now, she knew he would have already bled out. A sick feeling snaked through her as her mind continued to replay what had happened and what she could have done differently. But they’d been ambushed by a sniper. She’d done what she’d been trained to do—­try and neutralize the threat. Having failed that, the only thing she could do now was pray that Papps’s sons had heard her scream. But her captor had timed his dirty deed well. Duck hunting wasn’t like deer hunting, which was more of a solitary pursuit. And for the McKenna family, it had always been a social event. It had been the same every year for as long as she could remember. She knew exactly what had been going on at the blind. Until the birds landed, there would be no shortage of conversation. They’d watch the sunrise break through the…