by Kat Martin
“Are you sure about this, Libby?”
“I’ve got to go, Bert. We’ll talk soon.” Unless she was dead. Because there was no way she was getting on a plane with Vince Nolan and his criminal friends. Vince jerked the phone from her hand and tossed it back down on the table.
Earlier she had overheard him and Max talking about the man who had come with them. Vince had said something about the big haul they scored and that Deke had brought the money. Now that they had a way to escape, they didn’t have to worry about the guy double-crossing them.
“Time to get rolling,” Max said. “Vince, you go get the car. We’ll be ready to leave when you get back.” He turned to Jenny. “Get your kids and go in the bedroom with your husband.”
Deke scratched his scraggly beard, pulled his pistol, and pointed it at Jenny. “You know what’s good for you, girl, you’ll keep your mouth shut and do what Max says.”
Vince flashed Libby a lascivious glance as he lumbered out of the cabin. Deke turned his gun toward Libby while Max urged Jenny and the kids toward the bedroom.
Jenny paused long enough to hug her. “Sam won’t let you down,” Jenny whispered, her eyes full of tears.
“I know,” Libby said, her own eyes misting.
“Get in there,” Max commanded Jenny. “And don’t come out till Bridger comes in to get you.”
Jenny cast her a last worried glance and herded the kids into the bedroom.
“Leave the door open,” Max called out. “You want your man to stay alive, don’t untie him until we’re gone.”
Deke kept the gun pointed at Libby while Max made his way to the window to watch for Vince. The car must have been parked somewhere nearby. Libby heard the sound of an engine and the crunch of wheels rolling over the ground; then the vehicle came to a stop in front of the cabin.
Max opened the door. “Time to go.” He motioned with the pistol, which looked big and deadly. As Libby walked out on the porch, Max stuck the gun in her ribs. The Ford idled in front of the cabin. Libby’s heart jerked as Sam emerged from the house.
“Stay where you are, Bridger,” Max warned. “You try to follow us, she dies. You call the cops and they try to stop us, she dies. When we reach our destination, we’ll let her go.”
Sam’s hand balled into a fist. Libby knew he was holding on to his temper by a thread. Her heart was quaking with fear for him. “Do what they say, Sam. I’ll be all right.”
Sam took a deep breath and slowly released it. “Seems like I don’t have any choice.” But the look in his eyes said there was no way he was letting her get on that plane.
She wanted to tell him she loved him. There was a chance she would die, or maybe Sam would. But saying something like that might distract him from whatever it was he planned.
Max opened the rear passenger door, shoved Libby inside, followed her in, and slammed the door.
“Let’s go,” Max said, and the car rolled off toward the front gate.
Libby’s heart beat hard. She turned to look out the rear window for a last glimpse of Sam, but he was no longer there.
Chapter Sixteen
Sam raced into the house. The Smith & Wesson 9mm pistol he’d bought years ago waited on the kitchen table. Sam clipped the holster onto his belt, then grabbed his Winchester .30-30 hunting rifle lying on the table beside it.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of the Dunbars,” Clara said. “You just get our girl back.”
Sam gave a quick nod as he ran for the door. His pulse was pounding. Adrenaline poured through his veins. He waited for the sedan to roll through the gate toward the single lane road leading to the highway. As soon as the car took the first turn out of sight, Sam raced for his truck. Behind him, Clara ran out of the house, heading for Cougar Cabin.
Sam trusted Clara and prayed the Dunbars were safe as he fired the engine on his big black Dodge, put the pickup in gear and drove away.
By now Big John and Kade would be in position. Sam forced himself not to slam his foot on the accelerator and rocket down the road after his quarry. The timing had to be perfect, or one of them could die.
Or Libby could be killed.
His chest constricted. He thought again of calling the sheriff, as he’d considered half a dozen times, but if the police got involved, anything could happen. He trusted Big John and Kade.
And he trusted himself. He would do anything to protect Libby. Even give up his own life.
He hit the button on his cell phone, and Big John picked up. “They’re on their way and I’m right behind them, close as I can get without being spotted. You both in position?”
“We’re ready,” John said. “Kade will be able to see the car before I can. Soon as it rolls around the curve, he’ll take the shot. Keep the line open. I’ll let you know when to move in.”
“Will do.” Sam drove at the speed he figured Vince would be driving, fast, but not so fast he’d lose control on the curvy mountain road.
The spot they had chosen was four miles from the front gate, so it wouldn’t take long for the SUV to get there. Sam maintained his speed, though every cell in his body screamed for him to catch up with Vince and drag Libby out of the car to safety.
Time seemed to crawl. A couple of deer leaped into the road ahead of him, and Sam swerved to miss them. The curve in the road was just ahead.
Sam’s phone came to life. “Kade hit the target. The tired exploded. The driver had to fight the wheel some, but the car is slowing, pulling to a stop. Kade’s on his way down the hill to his secondary position.”
“I’m on my way.” Sam drove the pickup to a stop off the side of the road and opened the door. Tucking the phone into his pocket, he grabbed the rifle and took off into the trees, careful to stay above the road, out of sight, as he moved into position.
So far no sign of the old Ford Fusion. Then he caught a flash of oxidized blue. The car had pulled off the road just as they’d planned.
Sam ducked lower and moved silently closer. Vince was already out of the car, swearing as he rounded the trunk to examine the right rear tire. Max stepped out on the passenger side, leaving Mitchell in the backseat with Libby.
Spotting the shredded tire, Vince swore a foul oath. “Looks like we got a blowout. A bad one.”
Max’s head came up. “You think it could be a trap?”
Sam ducked even lower as Max surveyed the area around the car. Vince followed Max’s gaze. Nothing moved but a few pine branches stirred by the afternoon breeze.
Vince grunted. “This old piece of shit car? Just bad luck, more likely. But get the girl out here just in case.”
Sam silently cursed. Everything never went as planned.
They would have to go to plan B. Which meant waiting for an opening.
Crouched behind a boulder, Sam wedged his rifle into a crevice in the shade where it wouldn’t reflect sunlight and give away his position. He leveled the barrel at Vince, who moved to the rear of the car and opened the trunk.
Deacon Mitchell hauled Libby out of the backseat, his pistol pressed into her ribs, head swiveling one way then the other, on the lookout for a trap.
Big John and Kade held their positions on the other side of the road. Sam sighted down the barrel, but as long as Mitchell held Libby at gunpoint, there was nothing any of them could do.
Vince reached into the trunk, pulled out the spare tire and the jack while Max kept watch.
Vince leaned down to set the jack in place. “Get your ass over here, Max, and help me. We need to get this fixed and get the hell out of here before Bridger has the law breathing down our necks. Get me that lug wrench.”
Sam waited, his gaze fixed on Libby, willing her to know he was there. As if she had heard him, her gaze swung in his direction. Mitchell took a step, Libby kicked back hard, slamming her foot into his knee, then turned to flee.
Sam took the shot, th
e sound echoing across the road. Mitchell’s gun went flying. He went down and didn’t get up. Libby started running, but Vince grabbed her arm and hauled her back against him, his forearm locked around her neck. Pistol drawn, Max fired toward Sam’s position at the same time another shot rang out. Kade. A scarlet stain appeared on Max’s chest. He swayed and sagged to the ground.
Sam was up and running, taking big leaping strides down the mountain, pistol gripped in his hand.
Vince tightened his hold on Libby. “Stop right where you are!”
Sam came to a sliding halt, his gun leveled at Vince’s head. He itched to pull the trigger, but there was too much risk of hitting Libby. A few feet away, Max lay groaning, wounded but not dead, his pistol well out of reach.
“I can break her neck as easy as snapping a twig,” Vince said. “Take one more step and I’ll do it.”
Sam’s fingers tightened around the trigger. “You hurt her, I’ll kill you.”
“You can shoot, but she’ll be dead. I don’t think you’ll take the chance. Where’s your truck?”
Sam looked at Libby. Her face was bone white, her fingers digging into the muscular arm pressing into her windpipe.
“It’s parked around the curve,” Sam said.
“Toss your keys over here.”
Sam fished the keys out of his pocket and tossed them in front of Vince, who dragged Libby with him as he reached down to scoop them up. “Now the gun.”
Sam’s jaw clenched. He didn’t want to give up his weapon. If Vince got the gun, he could kill them both. His gaze went to Libby. The trust in her eyes made his chest ache. Sam crouched and set the pistol on the pavement, took a steadying breath and backed away. Kade and Big John were still out there. He was trusting his life and Libby’s to his friends.
On the hill, sunlight flashed on the barrel of Kade’s rifle, but he still didn’t have a shot. Sam’s gun lay a few feet in front of Vince, tempting him to pick it up, but reaching for it would make him a target.
Vince hesitated. “Use your boot to ease the pistol closer,” he commanded.
From the corner of his eye, Sam caught movement in the shadows and spotted Big John moving silently up behind Vince. Sam’s shoulders tightened. He took a slow step toward the pistol and eased it toward Vince with the toe of his boot. It was still too far away.
“Closer!” Vince demanded, squeezing until Libby fought for a breath of air. The wind blew Vince’s stringy blond hair against the side of his thick neck.
Hold on, baby, Sam silently pleaded, his gaze fixed on Libby.
Vince screamed as John’s big fist slammed into the back of his neck, breaking several vertebrae and sending the bank robber crashing to the ground. Libby twisted free as Vince hit the pavement, dead before he reached it.
“Sam!” Libby raced toward him. “Sam!” Sam swept her into his arms.
“I’ve got you,” he said, a tremor running through him. “You’re okay. You’re safe, honey. They can’t hurt you anymore.”
Libby’s arms tightened around his neck. “I love you, Sam.” She was shaking. “I love you so much.”
“I love you, too, sweetheart.”
“I don’t want to go back, Sam. I want to stay here with you.”
Love for her washed through him, and emotion clogged his throat. “If you stay, I’m never letting you go.”
“Oh, Sam.” Libby went up on her toes and kissed him, and Sam kissed her back. From a few feet away, Big John stood watching. The look in his onyx eyes said what the big man had known all along.
Libby had found her way home.
About the Author
Kat Martin is the New York Times bestselling author of over 70 books across multiple genres. Seventeen million copies are in print and she has been published in 21 foreign countries, including Japan, France, Argentina, Greece, China, and Spain. Her books have been nominated for the prestigious RITA award and won both the Lifetime Achievement and Reviewer’s Choice Awards from RT Book Reviews.
Please read on for an excerpt from the next full-length novel in the Blood Ties series, available for pre-order now!
New York Times Bestselling Author
KAT MARTIN
THE LAST GOODNIGHT
CAN SHE FIND A KILLER . . . BEFORE HE FINDS HER?
When Kade Logan said goodbye to his estranged wife eight years ago, he never thought it would be the last time he saw her alive. Now her car has been hauled out of a nearby lake and Kade is determined to track down the man who murdered her. Enter Eleanor Bowman, a talented private investigator who’s about to stir up a hornet’s nest on his Colorado ranch.
With old scandals still buzzing about his late wife’s many affairs and new violence erupting, Kade is faced with the discovery of another beautiful woman’s body. Are the two killings linked? Who is the man who seduced, then murdered both victims? Ellie believes they are dangerously close to the truth.
From corporate Denver high-rises to posh Vail mansions, Kade and Ellie sense the killer is closing in again, and this time Ellie is the target. Kade must risk everything to save the woman he’s coming to love—before she becomes the next to die . . .
Chapter One
Kade Logan stood on the bank watching the sheriff and his deputies haul the mud-covered vehicle out of the lake. The crane groaned as the auto tilted upward, the rear end lifting into the air, the front wheels dragging across the spongy earth. Brackish lake water poured out through the open windows, along with weeds and silt. Even a few silver fish had made the car their home.
For eight long years Kade had been haunted by the mystery of what had happened to the dark green Subaru Forester that belonged to his dead wife.
Oh, he knew where Heather was. In a grave in the old hillside cemetery in Coffee Springs, the small town closest to the ranch. Her body had been found in a shallow depression up in the hills at the base of the mountains outside Denver.
Heather had been beaten and strangled. Any signs of rape had faded as her body decayed, but as beautiful as she was, Kade was sure sex had been involved.
Her killer had never been caught.
“You okay?” Sam Bridger, Kade’s best friend, stood beside him, a tall blond man Kade had known for years. Kade had been too lost in thought to hear him approach.
“She’s been dead eight years, Sam. So yeah, I’m okay.” But the rage he felt had never lessened. It should have. At the time of her death, their marriage was already on the rocks. The second time Kade had caught Heather cheating, he had filed for divorce.
“Maybe they’ll find something in the car that’ll give them a reason to reopen the case,” Sam said.
“Maybe.” Kade hoped so. He wanted Heather’s killer found and punished. No matter how things had turned out between them, he owed her that much.
His gaze went back to the car being lifted onto the flatbed of a diesel truck with an Eagle County sheriff’s emblem on the side. The truck pulled away from the edge of the lake, tires churning through the mud made worse by last night’s rain. The motor groaned as the vehicle slogged along the little-used, rutted lane to the asphalt road leading toward Eagle, the county seat.
The last time Kade had seen the dark green SUV was the night Heather had left him. That night, she had packed her things, taken the car, and driven away without a backward glance. Kade had never seen her again.
At the time, like half the residents of Coffee Springs, he’d believed Heather had run off with one of the men she’d met in the town’s only saloon, or maybe a guy in Vail, the ski area frequented by the rich and famous only an hour’s drive away, where Heather sometimes went to ski with her girlfriends.
Kade had believed it, too. For a while. Then two years later a couple of hikers had found a body in a shallow grave, the dirt washed away by a recent storm. The victim, a female, turned out to be Heather Logan, a shock that had sent Kade into a tailspin.<
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By then he’d accepted the likelihood that Heather had been a victim of foul play. She hadn’t left with some big spender from Vail and simply started a new life, as she had threatened to do. She had been murdered.
Since then, Kade had been tormented by guilt. He lived each day with a terrible sense of failure that he had let Heather down. At the very least, he should have found the man responsible for her death.
And made the bastard pay.
“I’ve seen enough,” Kade said. “I’m heading back to the ranch.”
“That’s it?” Sam asked, a blond eyebrow edging up. Sam and Kade had gone to school together, worked side by side during the summers when they were kids. Sam knew Kade well enough to know it was far from over.
Kade thought of Heather and felt the old rage burn through him. “Over? Not by a long shot.” He started striding away, the bottom of his brown oiled canvas duster kicking up behind the heels of his muddy cowboy boots.
“What are you going to do?” Sam asked, falling in beside him, matching him stride for stride.
“First I want to see what the forensic experts find in the car. Then I’m heading into Denver.” A friend in the city owned a company called Nighthawk Security. Kade’s father had known Marcus Delaney. The current owner, a war hero, was his son. Kade trusted Conner Delaney to recommend a competent investigator.
Though Kade had tried that before.
A month after Heather had disappeared, when she hadn’t made contact with any of her friends, he’d begun to worry that she hadn’t just run off with a man as everyone believed. He’d filed a missing persons report with the police, but they’d never found any trace of her.
After her body was discovered and it became a homicide investigation, Kade had hired a retired police detective, but the case was cold by then. He began to accept that if the cops and his private investigator couldn’t find the man who had murdered her, maybe it was time to let go.
Still, the rage inside him remained. A cold fury that wouldn’t leave him till the day he found the man responsible for his wife’s death.
