by Mary Alford
“We’ll never outrun them in time to reach the house.” Mason returned their fire and ducked behind a tree.
If they didn’t reach the house in time, it would be just him against the men who were determined to take them out. If they were killed, who would protect her mother, Erik and Samantha? Who would fight for that blameless little girl who had already lost so much to Bartelli and his criminal ways?
FIVE
Whether he liked it or not, the choice had been taken from him when the first shots were fired—Mason would have to deal with the two men before the rest of Bartelli’s people came to their aid.
It wouldn’t take the others long to pinpoint the location of the shots. But if Mason could take both men down quickly and get them out of sight, perhaps Bartelli’s soldiers might not realize the shooting had come from Willa’s place. Right now, time was of the essence.
“Go around to the back of the house and get down low,” he whispered close to Willa while bullets continued to be fired at them.
“No, Mason. They’ll kill you.” She clutched his arm, her beautiful green eyes holding his. She didn’t want to leave him. Just like Willa to try to protect him.
“Listen to me. I’m going to try to disable them so we can tie them up. Go to the back of the house and stay out of sight.” He gave her a gentle nudge and returned fire.
Once he could no longer see her, Mason kept a group of trees between himself and his trackers and moved parallel to the left side of the house without being spotted.
A dark silhouette appeared in the yard and started up the porch steps. Where had the second man gone?
Mason steadied himself. “Stop right there.” The man whirled toward Mason and fired. He managed to dodge the bullet as it flew past his head. A muffled silence followed by ringing were the results of temporary hearing loss.
Like it or not, if he wanted to live, he’d have to take a life. Mason didn’t hesitate. A single shot dropped his assailant where he stood.
Mason shook his head. While his ears still rang from the close shot, at least his hearing had returned.
Movement out of the corner of his eye alerted him to the danger his temporary hearing loss opened him up to. Something slammed into him full force. The second man had found him.
“I got you now, lawman.” A smile of triumph was the last thing Mason saw before he hit the ground hard and slammed against his injured shoulder. Mason fought to keep the scream inside.
The man’s angry expression hovered inches above him, the gun almost touching his face. “Where’s the girl? Is she inside?” Anger turned into a smug smile as Mason’s silence confirmed the truth. “She is, isn’t she?” The man pulled back the hammer of the weapon.
Mason had somehow managed to hold on to his gun, but his hand had become pinned to his side. If he could get it free...
Desperate, Mason slugged his attacker with his injured arm. An electrical current of hurt raced from the injured shoulder. His attacker’s head shot sideways. The force wasn’t enough to get the man off him, but he did manage to get his weapon freed.
“You’re gonna pay for that,” the guy growled, taking aim again. The look of triumph quickly changed to shock when he spotted Mason’s weapon.
A single shot slammed the man’s eyes shut and he collapsed on top of Mason like a ton of bricks. The effort of keeping himself alive had exacted a toll.
Dragging in air, Mason tried to shove the man off him but the hand-to-hand combat he’d been forced to engage in had wiped out his strength.
“Mason!” Willa rolled the man off him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and helped him up.
“Are you oke?” Her green eyes searched his face with a worried frown.
He’d survived the attacks. “I think so.” He glanced back at the two dead men and struggled to come up with the next step. “Let’s get them out of sight. There’s no way others didn’t hear the shooting. When they come to investigate, we can’t let them find these two.” Bartelli’s men would most likely figure out exactly what happened here, but right now, getting these guys out of sight was the best chance they had.
Willa clasped her arms around her body as she looked at the two bleeding from fatal wounds. “I recognize them from the house earlier. They were part of the ones who forced their way inside.” She tore her gaze away from the dead men. “We can hide them in the wagon.”
He wiped perspiration from his forehead. “That’s a good idea.” Mason searched the first man’s pockets. No identification, but he did have a cell phone that had suffered some damage. If Mason could get it operational again, making the trip to the phone shanty wouldn’t be necessary.
The second man had even less on him. No cell phone and no ID.
Before he and Willa could move the first man, the door opened and Erik staggered out onto the porch.
“What happened?” he asked when he spotted the dead men.
Mason explained quickly. “Willa and I will get them out of sight.”
“Let me help.” Yet Erik held on to the railing and swayed, his legs unsteady.
Though a true hero, Erik was in no shape to lift a body.
“We’ve got this, brother. Take care of Beth and Samantha.”
Erik seemed to realize his limitations and nodded. He grabbed on to the door for support and headed inside.
Seeing his partner so weak terrified Mason, but he tried to keep it to himself.
They carried the two men to the wagon.
“How long before the others come to check on the shots?” Willa asked once the task was finished.
“Not long. They can’t be that far away.”
“I still can’t believe anyone would go to such extremes to hurt an innocent child,” Willa told him.
That was something Mason would never understand, either, no matter how many times he faced such darkness.
“Lucian Bartelli has a multimillion-dollar gun-smuggling business that’s in jeopardy. If he goes to jail, someone else will take control. He can’t afford to let that happen. The people who work under him are living in fear now. The man’s temper is notorious.”
“How could anyone work for a man like that?”
Mason skimmed her face and wished he could turn back time to the point where he saw the world through Willa’s eyes.
“Most are hardened criminals themselves. They have no moral compass, and they are beguiled by the lure of easy money.
“Bartelli’s great-grandparents actually came from Italy with extraordinarily little. The grandfather worked hard for an oil company and became quite successful there. He later bought out the company he worked for. His son still owns the business. Bartelli’s sister is the CEO. Under her control, they’ve taken over several failing companies. Bartelli’s brother is a high-priced criminal attorney who has been defending his brother through all his previous run-ins as well as this murder trial.” Mason shook his head. He didn’t understand how Lucian had gone down the wrong path.
“How many other convictions has Bartelli beat?”
Mason hated that someone like Bartelli could still be walking free after the terrible things he’d done.
“Several. He’s been accused of murdering others before, but he always managed to wiggle out of it by hiring killers to take care of witnesses.” Mason glanced over at the wagon. “Like these two men. I’m sure if I knew their names and ran them, they would have a string of crimes attached to them.”
“How do we fight so many?” Willa whispered. “How do you do this every day?”
He couldn’t imagine the person she still believed him to be. He’d lost that man a long time ago. The job had changed him radically. Made him harder. Less trusting. A lot jaded.
At one time, he and Willa shared everything with each other. They’d been better friends than he and Miriam, even though Willa was two years younger than him. They’d liv
ed a life of simplicity here in the shadow of the mountains. One centered in faith. How far he’d come from that time!
“It isn’t easy,” he muttered with a catch in his voice. “There are times when I hardly remember the boy who lived here.” The shock on her face wasn’t a surprise. She probably couldn’t imagine any other way of life. “Let’s get to the house before the rest of Bartelli’s people arrive.”
Their efforts had depleted his waning energy. He needed rest and a plan. Not necessarily in that order.
With Willa close at his side, they started for the front of the wagon—until he spotted a dreadful sight. The two dead men’s partners had come to investigate the shooting.
Mason pointed to the danger and ushered her to the back of the wagon and out of sight while the heartbeat in his ears battled with the ringing.
Crouching low, Mason hoped the men wouldn’t check their way. If they did, he’d have to take them down and he wasn’t sure he had the strength.
Daylight had just begun to turn the darkness to a gloomy gray. Rain continued to fall. The fog had lifted from the farm and remained low on the mountains.
“The gunshots definitely came from this direction.” A familiar sound came much closer than Mason liked. It was the man he’d heard calling the shots when he’d been in the basement.
Willa moved closer. He held her against his side and tried to recall how many men had cut them off on the road. At least half a dozen. By now they probably had more combing every square inch of the territory surrounding the mountains.
Their only chance of survival would be to stay hidden long enough for these men to leave the homestead. He sure hoped he could get the phone working enough to make a call. The alternative meant leaving Willa alone with so many out there. It was an option he couldn’t afford to take, which left but one choice—evacuating everyone in the house. A last resort if the phone failed.
“This place appears exactly as we left it,” the same man said. “Still, those shots were close. Are you sure you searched that barn properly?” He sounded doubtful.
“Yes, sir. Nothing in there but a couple of animals and a whole lot of stink.”
What sounded like a growl came from the leader. “Then where are our missing people?” There was a touch of uneasiness in the tone.
“I don’t see any sign of them here, boss,” the second man responded. Mason eased himself to the side enough to get his target in sight. Just the two men. If it came to it, he wasn’t strong enough to take both men in a fight. He’d be forced to shoot and bring more of Bartelli’s people this way.
One of the men turned slightly toward the wagon, and Mason quickly ducked back and cringed. He hoped he hadn’t given away their location. Seconds ticked by while he held his breath.
“There’s only those two women in the house,” the leader said. “I doubt they’d be shooting at anything.” An audible sigh followed. “Noise carries in the mountains and this weather isn’t helping. Let’s keep moving. Whatever you do, don’t let down your guard. Those marshals will be watching for us, as well. We need to take them and the girl down quickly. We both know what’s at stake. They can’t get away this time. The boss’s freedom is on the line and he isn’t the type to show forgiveness if we fail. Neither is the other one, for that matter. If the boss goes down, we all go down.”
Willa’s troubled gaze latched on to Mason’s face. He drew her closer and wondered exactly who was this person they spoke about. Was this the man known only as Ombra? It made sense Bartelli would send his trusted enforcer to handle the situation.
Mason waited until the men’s footsteps grew faint before he slowly eased himself to a standing position and looked around in the early dawn.
He knelt beside Willa once more. “Let’s give them a chance to put space between us before we start back.”
Waiting didn’t come easily with so much at stake. The seconds seemed to pass in slow motion while he tried to shut out all the dreadful things he’d read about Lucian Bartelli’s victims. The man didn’t appear to possess a conscience. He’d started his life of crime early on. When his younger brother went away to college, Bartelli began smuggling weapons into the US to sell to street gangs. Why hadn’t someone from Bartelli’s family seen the problem and tried to get him back on track? According to everything Mason had read about the family, the Bartellis were law-abiding people.
Leaving the way of life you’d grown up with proved easy for some. Look at Mason. He’d come from a Plain family dominated by faith, yet he’d traveled so far from that life that he barely recognized himself anymore.
He shoved his regrets down deep. Feeling sorry for himself wasn’t going to help Samantha.
Mason slowly rose. “I think it’s safe.” He helped Willa up beside him while his thoughts chased after each other. Getting the damaged phone to work had become key, because if he had to evacuate Erik, Samantha and Beth with so many men combing the countryside, he feared there would be no way to avoid another shoot-out.
Together, they moved toward the house while he searched their surroundings, expecting more of Bartelli’s soldiers at any moment. So far, it was only him and Willa. Still, he tempered each step to be as quiet as possible. Just a few more to go. The simple white house with its fading paint had never looked so welcoming.
For the time being, Bartelli’s people didn’t suspect Willa and Beth of hiding them. He hoped it stayed that way, but he’d heard them say Bartelli would kill them if they failed. The promise of certain death could be a strong motivator.
* * *
Through the curtains she and Mamm had lovingly sewn, Willa noticed the glow of the fire in the stove and the soft light from the lanterns in the living room and kitchen. They were safe.
She wanted to run up the steps and throw open the door, to lock the nightmare away for gut. But she had a feeling it wouldn’t leave so easily. Bartelli’s men were ruthless criminals like their boss, all determined to stay out of jail at any cost.
Before she had the chance to climb the stairs, something on the ground caught her attention. Among the spent shells from Mason’s gun battle, blood had soaked the soggy grass.
“How did those men not notice the shell casings?” she asked.
“My guess is they were too busy trying to find their partners and us that they failed to look at the ground.”
Mason gathered the spent shells in his pocket. “There’s nothing we can do about the blood. The rain should take it away soon enough.” He glanced uneasily around the farm before ushering her up the steps.
Willa’s fingers shook as she brought out the key.
Being out here in the open after everything they’d gone through felt as if both she and Mason had glaring targets on their backs.
She slipped the key into the lock. Inside the house, the sound of footsteps headed their way. Willa opened the door and noticed Erik standing nearby. Mason followed her inside and quickly relocked it.
The reality of what they’d survived settled in. Her hands shook and her stomach churned. Two people were dead, and it wasn’t close to being over.
Mason told Erik about the men who had shown up. “They were looking for their partners. They’ve left for now.”
“We’ve got to find a way to get Samantha out of here before the place becomes surrounded. There won’t be any way out for us then.” Erik eased himself back to the rocker and slowly lowered his frame.
Mason pulled out the phone he’d stuck in his pocket. “I’m not sure how long we’ll have if Bartelli’s people find their dead partners.” He held up the phone. His biggest concern was that with Bartelli being so paranoid, he might have placed some type of tracking software on the phone, but at this point, they needed some way to reach out for help. It was a risk he’d have to take. “One of the men had a phone on him. It’s busted up, but I’m going to see if I can get it working again.”
Erik barely ac
knowledged what he’d said.
“How are you holding up, partner?” Mason asked, putting the busted phone aside.
“I’m hanging on,” Erik mumbled almost indistinguishably. “Just going to rest for a second.”
“Let’s get you to the sofa where you’ll be more comfortable,” Willa said as she studied Erik’s slouched frame.
Mason moved to Erik’s side. “Hang on to me.” Draping Erik’s arm around his neck and placing his own around his wounded friend, Mason lifted him. Willa moved to the opposite side to help. Working together, they slowly walked Erik to the sofa.
He groaned in pain as his injured side struck the sofa.
“I’m sorry,” Willa whispered when he stumbled. “We should check the bandage again.”
Mason slowly unbuttoned his partner’s shirt and examined the bandage. “It seems to be holding up so far.” He closed Erik’s shirt while Willa brought over a quilt and draped it over him. “Is Samantha still with Beth?” Erik managed a nod. Mason continued to stare at his wounded partner. The love he had for his friend was clear on his troubled face.
“He’ll be oke for a little while. He needs rest. Let’s see if we can get the phone working again.”
Mason turned toward her. It hurt to see the hopeless look on his face. It reminded her of that young man who had lost his best friend all those years ago. Mason and Chandler Sweitzer had been gut friends since they were kinner. They’d gone ice skating the winter before Mason left the community and Chandler had fallen through the ice. Mason hadn’t been able to save his friend and for that he’d blamed himself. She still remembered this same look on his face when he’d come to her house and told her about Chandler.
“Komm, I will make us some kaffe to warm up.”
With a final look Erik’s way, Mason came with her to the kitchen. He pulled out a chair and placed the busted phone on the table to examine. “I’m worried about him, Willa. Erik has a wife and family. They need him. If I can’t get this thing working, how can I leave you here to face Bartelli’s men alone should they return? But if I don’t, my partner might die. The alternative is forcing everyone into the buggy.” He shook his head. “There is no easy solution. Someone will be at risk no matter what.”
