by Cindy Dees
Staggering through the deep snow, falling down a few times, Sloane made her way toward the house. Obscene, bloody orange light flickered across the pristine snow, a macabre display.
Please, God, let all the horses be all right. If she was responsible for getting any of Wyatt’s beautiful horses killed, she would never forgive herself. She stopped, half convinced she should go back to the barn and help save the horses. But as she turned around, she saw several of them bolt out of the barn and race away into the back pasture. Wyatt and Fox emerged from the barn, side by side, bent over and coughing.
Given that they weren’t going back inside, she knew they’d gotten all the horses out.
She looked around and suddenly felt very, very exposed, standing halfway across the yard out in the wide open with nary a tree, bush or blade of grass for cover. She was tempted to lie down in the snow and use its depth for cover. Lord knew, she was feeling unsteady enough on her feet to be better off crawling.
But, Chloe.
Desperate need surged through her to reach her daughter, to hug Little Bug tight and reassure herself that Chloe was safe. Not to mention she could use the reassurance herself that she was alive and well after yet another close call.
Terror that the stalker had snuck into the house and kidnapped Chloe got her feet moving, first at a walk, then a shambling run, and then a full-out sprint.
Panicked like she’d never been panicked before, she burst into the house, breathless, raced past a grim-faced Bailey, and tore down the hall to Chloe’s room. She threw open the door and charged inside, prepared to do battle barehanded with whatever monster threatened her baby.
Chloe looked up from the computer monitor. A princess movie was playing, a cheerful song chirping from the speaker.
The shock of seeing her daughter safe and unconcerned was so abrupt that Sloane just screeched to a stop and stared at Chloe for a long moment.
Time resumed its forward march and Sloane raced forward, scooping up Chloe in a bear hug.
“Cold!” Chloe squealed. “You wet, Mama.”
“I know, Little Bug. I love you so much. So, so much. I’d do anything for you.”
“Wub you, too, Mama.” Chloe tolerated the hug for a moment longer and then squirmed impatiently. “Wanna see pwin-cess dance wif pwince.”
Reluctantly, Sloane dropped one last abjectly grateful kiss on Little Bug’s head and then turned Chloe loose, setting her back down in front of her movie.
She stepped back out into the hall and pulled up short at the sight of Bailey carrying a double-barreled shotgun like it was loaded and she knew how to use it.
“You okay?” Bailey bit out.
Honestly, it was the first time she’d stopped to take stock of her overall health since she’d woken up and realized the barn was on fire. Sloane motioned with her head for Bailey to follow her to the kitchen, but the jerk of her head sent a bolt of pain crashing through her skull.
She made it to the kitchen and collapsed into a chair at the table. “I think I got hit over the head.”
Bailey went into full medical mode and passed the shotgun to Sloane, then efficiently checked out Sloane’s skull. When she got to the back of Sloane’s head, pain exploded.
“Ouch!” Sloane cried.
“That’s a nasty bump you’ve got there,” Bailey announced.
Sloane winced as her future sister-in-law probed the tender spot on the back of her head, pushing hair aside.
“Sit still. I need to see if it’s split open or needs stitches.”
It wasn’t, and it didn’t. But then Bailey made Sloane stare at her fingers and tell her how many she saw until Sloane finally lost patience and snapped, “I can see just fine. Yes, I’m sure I have a mild concussion, and no, I won’t run around and do anything stupid until I can see a human physician. You can quit fussing over me now.”
Bailey shrugged. “Liam would kill me if I let anything happen to you.”
“Speaking of which, has anyone called him to let him know someone tried to kill me...again?”
“I don’t know. When we topped the ridge and saw the barn on fire, we all took off at top speed. Wyatt yelled at me to go to the house and protect you and Chloe while he and Fox headed for the barn. I did call 911 to get the fire department out here. Although by the time they get here in this storm, that barn’s going to be a total loss. Good thing it was the old barn Wyatt’s been talking about pulling down and rebuilding, anyway.”
Sloane pulled out her cell phone and hit Liam’s speed dial number.
“Sloane? Are you all right? I heard on the police scanner that there’s a fire out at the Crooked C. Tell me you’re not hurt. Talk to me.”
“If you’ll let me get a word in edgewise, I’ll tell you I’m okay. Someone hit me over the head and left me in the barn while it burned down around me, though.”
“What? Where are you? Are Wyatt and Fox with you?”
“They’re still at the barn. I think they got all the horses out, but they’ll need to move the livestock to another pasture, further from the fire. Chloe and I are at the house with Bailey and a very impressive shotgun.”
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Don’t go anywhere. I’m calling the sheriff’s department to see if they can get someone up there faster to protect you.”
Liam hung up, and momentary silence fell in the kitchen. Only the crackling roar of the fire outside disturbed it.
Bailey took possession of the shotgun again and moved over to the kitchen sink. “At least the wind hasn’t picked up. Otherwise, embers could have been carried to the other barns or even here to the house.”
“God. I’m so sorry, Bailey. This is all my fault.”
“Stop right there, Sloane. We’ve got plenty of insurance. I’m just glad you’re safe.”
When the wail of sirens became audible, it was clear that Liam had called out the entire emergency response of Roaring Springs and the surrounding areas. Four fire trucks, two ambulances and a half-dozen police cars pulled into the ranch, floundering through the snow toward the barn.
By the time firefighters piled out of their vehicles, it was obvious even to Sloane that the barn was a complete loss. All the firefighters did was watch the roofs of the surrounding structures for embers.
Sloane, standing by Bailey at the sink, saw a tall, familiar figure peel off of the cluster of police just starting to fan out around the barn and run toward the house. She went to the front door to meet Liam.
He burst inside and swept her up against his thick shearling coat, soaking her clothes with snow and cold, and she didn’t care at all. His arms crushed her ribs, and then his mouth crashed down on hers.
Long moments later, they finally came up for air.
Sighing, she laid her head on his shoulder, and even through his thick layers of clothes, she heard and felt his heart pounding wildly.
“You’ve got to stop scaring me like this, baby.”
“Believe me, I’d love to stop scaring you.”
Liam stared down at her as she leaned back enough to stare up at him. He announced grimly, “That’s it. We’re figuring out who’s trying to kill you and taking the fight to this bastard.”
Chapter 17
After reassuring himself that Sloane and Chloe were safe, Liam stomped back out through the snow to have a conversation with Sheriff Trey Colton.
“Is Sloane okay, Liam?” Daria Bloom asked as he approached the contingent from the sheriff’s office.
“She and Chloe are fine. Looks like Sloane got hit on the back of the head and left in the barn to burn.”
The sheriff nodded grimly. “Fire chief says this was another obvious case of arson. I have to believe that whoever set Sloane’s house on fire torched the barn, too.”
Liam swore under his breath at the confirmation of his suspicion.
“How do you wan
t to proceed, Liam? This is your case, after all.”
“I need some officers assigned to Sloane and Chloe around the clock. In the meantime, I’m heading to Denver to get some damned answers.”
“Do you have some idea who’s behind this?”
“I do. Now all I need is proof.”
Daria cautioned him, “Keep your head in the game, Liam. Any evidence you collect has to hold up in court. Be a cop.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know. Believe me. I want to nail this bastard worse than anyone. I’ll do it by the book.”
Although he was sorely tempted to find Ivan Durant and beat the crap out of him.
The rest of the night was occupied with writing up a police report on the fire, collecting preliminary evidence from the firefighters on scene and setting up a schedule of round-the-clock armed protection for Sloane and Chloe.
The problem was, with armed cops crawling all over the Crooked C Ranch, the stalker undoubtedly wouldn’t show himself or herself again anytime soon. And whoever it was, the person was very careful. Yet again, the police found no evidence at the scene that could point them to the identity of the assailant. Any tracks had been quickly erased by the heavy snowfall.
Frustrated, Liam drove home in the wee hours to let the blizzard blow itself out and catch a few hours of shut-eye before he drove in to Denver. He and Bill Gunther were going to have a little conversation. And if that yielded no results, Liam was going to have a very direct discussion with Ivan Durant.
* * *
The next day saw Liam sitting in an interview room at a Denver police station with Bill Gunther. “So you swear you haven’t had anything to do with Sloane Colton since I last spoke with you?”
“I swear. I completely stopped watching her,” Gunther insisted. “You pulled out the cameras and I turned off the computers.”
“You haven’t been to Roaring Springs in the past two weeks?”
“I haven’t been to Roaring Springs in the past two months. Check the GPS in my car or my cell phone if you don’t believe me.” He narrowed his eyes. “What’s going on, Detective?”
“Someone’s trying to kill Ms. Colton. Two different attempts have been made on her life recently.”
“Oh, man. That sucks. She seems like a nice lady.”
“Has your client had any further contact with you since we last spoke?” Liam demanded.
“Not a word. Dropped off the map like he or she never existed.”
Liam swore under his breath.
“Have you got a protection detail on Ms. Colton?” Bill asked shrewdly.
“Yes.”
“Your killer’s not going to crawl out from under his rock again until the cops go away.”
Liam sighed. “I know. But I’m not willing to risk her life by pulling the protection detail.”
“I would set up a trap if I were you. Use the lady as bait. You’d have to have a place that has limited access points where you could surround yourself with cameras and trip wires so you could see the bastard coming. Arm yourself to the teeth, and be prepared to take the stalker out.” Bill punctuated the declaration by drawing his finger across his throat.
Liam snorted. “Oh, I’m prepared to take this bastard out. Trust me on that. I just have to lure the stalker into showing himself or herself.”
“The only bait someone like that will take is their primary target. And for better or worse, that’s Sloane Colton.”
Gunther was absolutely right. As much as Liam didn’t like it, the guy spoke the truth. “You said you were a tech guy when you were on the police force. What kind of cameras would you use to watch a house from outside?”
Bill started talking, and Liam listened intently. After nearly an hour, they left the interrogation room with Liam a whole lot more knowledgeable regarding state-of-the-art surveillance technology.
“Detective Kastor!” someone called out across the ready room.
Liam looked up, and one of his Denver counterparts strode over to him. “What can I do for you?” Liam asked.
“It’s what I can do for you. You’re taking point on the Colton attacks in Roaring Springs, aren’t you?”
“That’s correct.” He’d been sending out reports statewide in case Sloane’s stalker had staged similar attacks elsewhere. Cops kept an eye out for crimes with strikingly similar MOs, and maybe he would get lucky.
“After your report on the odd behavior of Carol and Niall Durant, we were able to get a warrant to wiretap them.”
“Really? How’d you pull that off?” Liam asked in surprise. He hardly thought suspicious behavior was enough for a surveillance warrant to go through.
“Mr. Durant is suspected of other criminal activities—financial irregularities, possible embezzlement, attempting to bribe a judge. FBI was about to apply for a wiretap warrant, too. We combined applications.”
“Wow. What judge did Durant try to bribe?”
“A family court judge who ruled in their son’s divorce. He reported that the Durants approached him, offering a large cash sum for their son to get full custody of their grandchild.”
“Was there hard evidence? A recording or written bribe?” Liam asked quickly. “And was Ivan Durant involved?”
“It was just the judge’s word, although he’d make for an impeccable witness. And no, the son wasn’t involved, at least not according to the judge.”
Damn.
“At any rate, we picked up something on the wiretap. Thought it might pertain to your case. We were planning to make a copy of it and send it to you, anyway. But in light of what we just heard, it’s good luck that you’re here.”
Liam followed the detective into a small room crowded with elaborate sound equipment. A technician looked up and the detective said, “Play back that piece of tape I told you to copy for Detective Kastor in Roaring Springs. This is Liam Kastor in the flesh, by the way.”
“Great timing, Detective,” the technician said to Liam. “You’re gonna want to hear this.” The guy hit a button, and an automated male voice said simply, “Leave a message.” An answering machine beeped.
But then a familiar voice filled the small room. Liam recognized Carol Durant’s upper-crust accent saying, “It’s urgent that you return our calls. We need you to call it off. You hear me? Call. It. Off. You nearly killed our granddaughter, you dolt!” A pause was filled with what sounded like Carol breathing heavily, as if she were upset. She ended with, “Call me back. Immediately.”
The tech said, “That was recorded the day after Ms. Colton’s house burned.” He fiddled with a few buttons and then said, “And we picked this up about an hour ago.”
This time it was Niall Durant’s voice echoing through the room. “We’ve been trying to get in touch with you for over a week now. We need you to cease and desist, effective immediately. My wife made it clear to you over a week ago that we no longer desire you to complete the hit. You may keep the money you’ve been paid so far. Hell, I’ll pay you the rest of what we agreed upon. But stop trying to kill Sloane Colton, you hear me? You’re going to get the child killed, too!”
Liam sucked in a sharp breath. “We’ve got them dead to rights.”
“Looks that way,” the detective confirmed. “I’ve got my guys writing up an arrest warrant as we speak. You want to stick around and help us serve it?”
“As much as I would enjoy seeing those two in handcuffs and sputtering for a lawyer, I need to get back to Roaring Springs right away. There’s a hit man out there trying to kill Ms. Colton, and I have to stop him.”
The drive back to Roaring Springs was interminable. The heavy, accumulating snow and far too many idiot drivers conspired to make the trip take forever. Or maybe he was just frantic to get back to Sloane.
He called ahead, of course, to warn her security detail of who they were up against. They promised to keep her away from windows or sight lin
es for a sniper, and they put an extra cop on foot patrol around Wyatt and Bailey’s house in an effort to scare the hit man off.
Sloane and Chloe couldn’t live that way forever. At some point, he had to draw the would-be killer out and catch him. At least, from the phone messages left by the Durants, they knew the assassin to be male. That was better than nothing...but not much.
While he drove, a plan hatched in Liam’s head. It could be a little risky, but based on the information Bill Gunther had given him, Liam felt certain he could minimize the risk to Sloane.
He would do largely what Bill had suggested: pick a spot where Liam controlled the approaches and use Sloane as bait to draw out the killer. He debated asking a female cop to impersonate Sloane, but they were dealing with a professional who’d had weeks to study Sloane and recognize every nuance of her appearance and movement. Liam highly doubted anyone but Sloane herself would draw the hit man out now. Particularly after the police had made a big show of protecting her. The hit man had to know the cops were looking for him.
And Liam knew just the place to set a trap using her as bait.
Chapter 18
Sloane looked around the tiny valley and the log cabin tucked into the lee of a sheer rock cliff. “Your family owns this place?” she asked.
“My dad used it as a hunting cabin and man cave. It was passed down to me when he died, but I haven’t had much chance to use it yet,” Liam answered as he lifted a large duffel bag of gear out of the bed of his truck. He added, “I was thinking about moving up here, but it gets snowed in a lot, and I have to be able to get to work.”
“Still. It’s beautiful. Peaceful.” Aspens, their papery white bark bare among the evergreen of the pines, waited, dormant, for the coming of spring. Up here there had to be at least four feet of snow on the ground. Someone had plowed the driveway, or there would have been no way they could have driven right up to the front of the cabin.
“It doesn’t look fireproof. Are you sure you want to risk letting me stay here?” she asked doubtfully. “It might burn down around me.”
