Colton on the Run

by Anna J. Stewart

  Whoever it was clomped his way around the front of the house. He—it had to be a he, as she’d never heard a woman stomp around like that—didn’t call out. He didn’t make a sound, which seemed all the more odd.

  Jane stopped at the corner of the barn, kept Ollie at her side and leaned over to peer around. Her heart skipped more than a beat at the sight of the police cruiser. She gasped, covering her mouth with her free hand as she gripped the dog tighter. Her skin went clammy as fear descended, but she took a moment, tried to reason it out. One cop, one person, had been the one who drove her off the road. What were the odds...

  His footsteps drew closer. She struggled for breath as Ollie strained against her hold. Her stomach pitched and cramped as she inhaled the sickening scent of cloves. She became light-headed. The world spun, and she braced herself against the wall to keep from pitching forward.

  She squeezed her eyes shut, but all she could see was the glint of an arcing blade; all she could hear was the sound of that blade piercing flesh. All she could feel was the terror slicing through her, sharper than any knife.

  Beneath the blinding fluorescent lights of the gas station, blood spewed, spraying over the foliage and shrubs beyond the line of sight. Just beyond the entrance to the station where she’d gone in to pay for her gas.

  She’d stood there, frozen, caught between the horror of the murder she’d witnessed and the knowledge that the man responsible had seen her. A tall, dark-haired man wearing a navy-blue Roaring Springs deputy’s uniform. With a name badge reading Deputy Gerald Gates.

  The same deputy who had started toward her, knife still in hand, blood dripping from his fingers. She’d run full-bore to her car, nearly twisting her ankle, panic making her hands shake as she opened the door, threw herself inside and peeled out of the station like the devil himself was on her trail. The sports car was fast, but the cruiser with spinning lights gave chase, growing closer in her rearview mirror as she fumbled to get her phone out of her bag. Why hadn’t she hooked up the voice control? She pressed her foot down harder on the accelerator as the cruiser closed the distance.

  The steering wheel vibrated beneath her death grip. Could she make it to the police station in Roaring Springs? But it was the police behind her. Trey. Trey would know what to do. Trey could help her. Or...

  Home. If she could just make it home, her family would be there. He wouldn’t even think about following her...

  She screamed the first time he rammed her vehicle from behind. The sound of metal crunching against metal sent chills racing over her body. Her heart pounded so hard against her ribs she was afraid her chest would burst. Her car skidded one way, then the other, but she managed to get it under control. She pressed her foot harder. The car strained, but lurched forward just as he clipped her again. The outcropping of rocks closed in fast. She pulled her foot off the gas and braced for impact, but there was no preparing for the explosion of airbags when she hit. Time stopped and when it began moving again, everything shifted into slow motion.

  Ears ringing, blood streaming down one side of her face, she’d struggled to stay awake. In her numbed state, she fumbled for the seat belt latch, straining against the belt as she heard a car door slam. Heavy footfalls headed her way. She whimpered, hating the helpless sound as she struggled and strained, unable to get any traction with her stilettos. She kicked them off, pressed her bare feet to the floorboards and pushed up. One more depression of the latch and the belt burst free, whipping back and catching her in the face. She dived across the gearshift, reaching frantically for the passenger door as her window exploded, showering her in glass.

  His hand reached in, grabbing for her, but when he didn’t make contact, he unlocked the door and ripped it open. She kicked out, screaming, shouting as his hand locked around her ankle. He bent down, his dark eyes flashing in the dim glow of the overhead light of her car. Then, yanking hard, he pulled her almost all the way out. She thrashed, punching out with her fists, landing a few blows until he yanked her one more time. Her head slammed against the bottom of the car as he pulled her free. She lay there, stunned, amid shattered glass and her own blood, unable to do anything but watch him stand over her. Lean down. He backhanded her hard, across the face, the chunky ring he wore on his hand catching her skin before he hit her again. And then...

  Ollie barked, dragging Jane out of the memory. She stood there, back against the barn, frozen, and watched her attacker step around the corner. Slowly. Deliberately. Carefully.

  Dark hair. Even darker eyes in a face so pale he reminded her of death. The uniform seemed to sag around him, as if afraid to mold itself to his body. But now she remembered that sickly amused smile she saw on his face. The same face that had smiled down on her that night.

  The same face of the man who had stopped here for directions a few weeks ago.

  “I’ve been looking for you.”

  Ollie strained against her hold, but she clung harder, afraid of what the man would do to him. She slid away, splinters snagging on her shirt as her mind raced for something—anything—to use to defend herself. “I’m not alone.” Her voice trembled. Ollie growled and barked so loudly her head hurt again. “Leo’s—”

  “Slattery is in town. At the police station. How do you think I finally knew where to find you?” His right hand went to his holster. He unsnapped the safety on his gun and wrapped his fingers around the butt. “You remember, don’t you? I can see it on your face. You remember seeing me kill Levi.”

  She felt the blood drain from her face. Leo was where? No. This man was lying. Leo wouldn’t lie to her. He wouldn’t betray her. He’d promised not to go to the police. He’d promised...

  But looking at the deputy, she knew he was telling her the truth.

  Leo had lied to her.

  And that, more than any knife, any punch, any bullet, hurt.

  “They’ll figure it out,” she told him. “When they find my body, they’ll figure out it was you.”

  “If they find your body.” He pulled out his gun and aimed it, not at her, but at Ollie. He cocked the hammer.

  “No!” She stepped in front of the dog, twisting her arm in such a way she felt the tendons strain as she held on to his collar. “No, don’t hurt him. I’ll do whatever you want, just leave him alone.” She needed to buy time, time for her brain to start working to find a way out.

  “Then chain him up.” He waggled the muzzle. “Nice and tight. Then get in the car. We have unfinished business, you and I.”

  An odd calm descended as she caught the mad look in the deputy’s eyes. The second she got into that car, she was dead. She knew that as certainly as she knew she loved Leo.

  “Okay.” She took a chance and turned her back on the gun so she could get a better hold on Ollie. “Okay, I’ll tie him up. But the rope is in the stable. Over there.” She pointed to the building that had served as her safe haven all these weeks. “It’s either that or let him loose, and I’d put my money on him.”

  “Move.”

  Ollie growled again and for the first time struggled against Jane’s hold. “Please, Ollie,” she whispered. “Trust me.” She half hobbled him over all the way to the stable, the deputy right behind her. “He has a leash,” she lied. “Just there.” She pointed to the narrow wall separating Teyla and Bullet. Bullet. An idea formed, easing the fear bearing down on her again.

  “Then get it,” Deputy Gates snapped.

  “One question.” She dragged Ollie over to Teyla and reached for the lead rope hanging beside her stall. “Why did you kill him?”

  “What does it matter?” Gates asked. “He was stealing from me. Taking more product for himself than he was selling. No one steals from me.”

  “Noted.” She pretended to stumble and grabbed hold of Bullet’s door, slid the latch free as she pushed herself forward, dragging Ollie with her.

  “Tie him up already, would you?” He glanced o
ver his shoulder.

  “Afraid you’re running out of time?” She looped the rope around Ollie’s neck and secured him to a nearby post.

  Gates swung on her, advancing fast. She spun and yanked hard on Bullet’s door, pulling it open in one fast whoosh. The young stallion burst free, his feet catching the edge of the door and sending Jane sprawling to the ground. Gates cried out as the horse didn’t stop, knocking him to the ground so hard and so fast, his gun discharged into the roof. Jane jumped to her feet, grabbed a shovel and ran at Gates. She slammed the shovel down hard on his hand, dislodging the gun. She kicked it well out of reach, dropped the shovel and dived for the weapon, but Gates grabbed her around the ankle and sent her crashing face-first into the floor. She tasted blood. Her nose and mouth went numb, but she wasn’t giving up. She wouldn’t surrender. Not to this man.

  She threw out her arms, searching with her hands, grabbing with her fingers as she found the handle of the shovel again.

  Ollie was going mad, his barks so loud she could barely hear the screeching tires and slamming doors.

  “Jane!”

  Leo. Was she hearing things? Jane threw herself over, kicked out with her free foot, but Gates wouldn’t let go. The madness and rage swirled in his eyes as his other hand locked around her calf, dragged her closer as he hauled himself up. She readjusted her grip on the shovel and hurled it around, swinging like she was going for a home run. She connected with his shoulder so hard her own arms vibrated.

  Gates screamed in pain and released her. Splinters embedded themselves in her palms, but she barely felt them. She struggled to her knees, never taking her eyes off the writhing figure before her. He reached for her again. More voices. More shouts. Dozens of them. Or maybe she was imagining things. Maybe it was her mind playing tricks on her. She drew the shovel back, ready to hit him again.

  “Jane, stop!” She was grabbed from behind, spun away as the shovel was pulled from her hands. “It’s okay. They’ve got him. Shh. They’ve got him.”

  Leo. She clung to him, sank into him as he wrapped his arms so tightly around her she couldn’t breathe. She didn’t want to breathe. She didn’t have to. Not when he was there.

  “Come on. I’ve got you. Let’s go outside.” He led her out of the stable, but she stopped him, shaking her head as she planted her feet. “Ollie. Where’s—”

  “Here he is.” A young uniformed female deputy brought Ollie, rope leash and all, over to her. “I figure maybe you two are better off handling him than we are.” Ollie hopped up and around them over and over as they brought him along.

  Once outside, Jane pulled herself free of Leo’s hold and dropped to her knees, hugging Ollie against her as she sobbed into his fur. “You’re okay, boy. You’re okay.” Ollie lifted one paw over her shoulder and seemed to be petting her back. “You did so good. So, so good.” She didn’t think she’d ever forget the manic look on Gates’s face when he’d aimed that pistol at the dog. If anything had happened to him...

  “You need to tell me what happened,” Leo said as he crouched beside her. He reached out to brush her hair back from her face, but she pulled away, angry tears escaping her control. “Jane, talk to me.”

  “You know what happened,” she said as he looked into her eyes. “You lied to me.”

  Chapter 13

  Leo straightened from where he’d been slouching against the side of the ambulance as Daria and Sheriff Trey Colton approached. In the dusk, his ranch teemed with patrol cars, deputies, and other investigators who were already marking evidence trails from the house to the stable. Deputy Blue had been charged with tracking down Bullet, who was probably halfway to the next property line by now.

  Two larger deputies were hauling Gates over to a squad car while the man screamed in pain over the injuries to his shoulder and chest. Not one ounce of sympathy trickled through Leo. Part of him wished he’d let Jane take another swing at Gates, but given what he’d seen, she might have killed him. No way was he going to let her have a death—not even Gerald Gates’s death—on her conscience.

  She wasn’t hurt. She was alive. Except for a few new scrapes and bruises, uninjured.

  But to be safe, the paramedics were giving Jane—Skye—the once-over, not an easy feat as she wouldn’t relinquish her hold on Ollie.

  Leo had lived through a lot in his life: the loss of his parents and grandparents; on-site accidents up north that had cost men their lives. He’d taken chances where he shouldn’t have and lived to tell the tale, but nothing had prepared him for the endless ride back to his ranch. The idea they might have been too late, that Gerald Gates could have killed her before...

  He gave his head a hard shake as if he could dislodge the image.

  If Daria was as exhausted as Leo felt, she certainly didn’t look it. If anything, she looked like she’d drunk half a tankard of Red Bull. “Tell me he spilled his guts,” Leo said.

  “Gates has said enough we can piece it together,” Daria said. “Trey, Leo Slattery. Leo, Sheriff Trey Colton.”

  “Belated welcome home to Roaring Springs,” Trey said with a bigger smile than Leo expected. “Nice to know Isaac’s ranch is in good hands. And on a personal note, thank you for all you’ve done to keep Skye safe. I’m looking forward to delivering good news to my family for a change. They’ve been going a little nuts since hearing she was alive. Not all missing persons cases turn out this well.”

  “I suppose they don’t.” Leo looked back to Jane, who had an odd, distant and almost vacant expression on her face. She hadn’t looked at him. Not since she’d confronted him about his deception.

  “She’ll get over it.” Daria touched his arm. “Just give her some time. She’ll realize you were only doing what was best for her.”

  Leo winced. He seriously doubted that. “What’s the story with Gates? Why’d he kill McEwan?”

  “Levi was stealing from him,” Jane said from where she sat on a stretcher. “Gates took exception. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “We ran the property records on the Preston place,” Daria said. “Paul Preston was Gates’s uncle. As his nephew and only living relative, Gates inherited the property. When he transferred to Roaring Springs two years ago, he did so to expand his drug distribution network. From what our techs have found so far at the Preston property, he had a pretty big operation going until recently.” She paused for a moment, then went on. “Probably moved it again after he killed Levi. We’ve been in touch with his previous department in Denver suggesting they look into his time there. I’m betting we find a connection between the drug supply chain and what we’ve dealt with here since he arrived.”

  “Being a deputy was the perfect cover.” Trey’s eyes went dangerously dark. “He could keep an ear out on the drug cases, know what areas to avoid. Also says something about our background check policy. Something I’m going to make sure is reevaluated as soon as possible.”

  “Why didn’t he kill me?”

  Leo’s blood chilled at the detached tone in Jane’s voice. She was pushing the paramedic away, shaking her head as she tucked the thermal blanket tighter at her throat and stepped out of the truck. Ollie hopped down beside her, looking between the two of them as if begging them to make up.

  “We don’t have to talk about that now,” Daria said. “You don’t need to hear—”

  “I have no doubt he was planning to,” Trey said, cutting her off. “I did a little digging. About fifteen years or so ago Gates’s father got into a business deal with your dad, Skye. Whatever that deal was went belly up and the Gates family lost everything. They never recovered, either financially or professionally. And personally? Gates is the only one left alive. Seeing you at the gas station that night, he probably thought he’d been given a gift. What better way to make Russ suffer than by living through the loss of one of his children? By kidnapping you, by drawing it out, he was prolonging his own enjoyment. Then y
ou escaped.”

  “When you didn’t turn up he probably thought he’d lucked out and you’d died of exposure,” Daria added. “Either way, you weren’t home and that was enough pain to inflict on your father.”

  “He was going to rape me before he killed me,” Skye whispered. “Today. I saw it in his eyes. I knew if I got in that car with him—”

  Leo held out his hand, but she stepped out of reach without even looking at him. He tried to ignore the hollow pang in his gut as his heart sank. She was alive, he reminded himself. When all was said and done, that was all that mattered. The woman he loved was safe and alive. That would have to be enough.

  “What else do you need from me?” Jane asked.

  “An official statement,” Daria said. “You can come in tomorrow morning, and we can—”

  “No. I want to finish this. I want this all to be over.” She swiped her hair off her face. “Would it be all right if I took a shower and changed first?”

  “Yeah. We’ve photographed your injuries. If you could bag your clothes. All of them.” She glanced down to the blood-spattered boots. “Sorry about that.”

  “It’s fine,” Jane whispered. “I’ll just be a few minutes.”

  “I’ll come with you. I left my truck—”

  “I’ll ride with Daria. Alone.” Jane kept her gaze pinned on the deputy. “If that’s okay.”

  Daria nodded. “Yeah, it’s fine. Just give a shout when you’re ready.”

  Jane nodded and walked back to the main house, Ollie trailing behind her.

  “She just needs some time,” Trey told him.

  “No amount of time will make this right.” Leo swallowed around a too-tight throat. “I told her when she first got here I didn’t make promises I couldn’t keep. But I let her down.”