In the distance, he heard kids yelling and a dog barking. He stayed hidden. As the woman moved forward, he saw she was older than Vicki.
He crouched down behind a clump of pine trees. About a dozen bloodthirsty mosquitoes circled him, looking for a meal. Not until the woman turned the bend did he stand up. As he moved back to the road, thorny vines clung to his jeans and one found its way under the hem to prick his ankle. “Fuck!”
He stomped out of the brush and started back down the road. The lane curved and he spotted a cabin up ahead.
Was that it? Was the bitch there? He moved that way.
* * *
Juan walked outside. Bell followed the boys to the side of the cabin.
Juan turned and faced his brother and sister-in-law. “I should have let you know I was here. I’m sorry, but—”
“We can leave,” Christina said.
Juan glanced back at Bell. She and the boys were hanging together while Sweetie danced on her leash.
“Or we could stay,” Ricky offered. “Maybe be a buffer to whatever you guys were arguing about.”
“I think we should go. It sounded personal.” She cut him a disapproving look.
Juan raked a hand over his face and realized having them here was bad for several reasons. The top one being they were hiding out from a murderer. “I hate to—”
“Ricky, let’s just go,” Christina cut in.
Juan’s phone, tucked in his pocket, rang. Juan pulled it out. Mark’s number flashed across the screen.
“I’ll call you right back.” Frustration rang in Juan’s voice.
“No! It’s important!” Mark’s reply came with tension.
“What is it?”
“Your phone’s been ringing off the hook.”
“My cell?”
“And your desk phone. I had a few hours and decided to come to the office. I finally answered it. It was that cop, Milbourn. He said he needed to talk to you about Vicki Trever. I informed him you didn’t have any other info. He still insisted on speaking to you. I told him you were out of town. He asked if you were in Piney Lakes, Texas.”
“What? How does—”
“He said Valado is there now. Something about him tracing her phone.”
“No. She took the battery out.”
“Look, what matters is I believe him.”
“Fuck!” He turned to grab Bell, but she wasn’t there. “Where’s Bell?”
Christina shifted closer. “When we stepped out, I told the boys they could go to the playground. I’ll bet she went with them.”
“Shit!” Every muscle in his body clenched. Acid rose in his throat as his mind replayed Bell’s cries from her dreams.
Mark continued, “I called the Piney Lakes police. They’re on the way. Connor and I are driving there now.”
Juan hung up.
“Bell?” he called.
Right then Sweetie came running up the trail. She didn’t have a leash attached. He looked back at the cabin. He had two people to protect, but one was a hell of a lot more vulnerable.
He took off at a dead run to find Bell.
* * *
No one had been in the last cabin. He had broken the window and gone in. Between the air conditioner being off and stale air, he knew he had the wrong place. He studied the Google map again. “Fuck!” He should have taken the left on the road.
He took off. About fifty yards down the right road he spotted another cabin. Concerning him were the two cars parked out front. Hand on his gun, he eased up to the porch. He moved to the window.
A smile pulled at his lips when he saw her, alone in the kitchen. Her back was to him, but he recognized her hourglass shape. Need churned in his gut.
There was no sign of his daughter.
Could he be lucky enough to have found her alone? Or was someone in another room he couldn’t see in?
He spotted a small patio to the left of the house. Taking the steps silently, he moved around the cabin. There was a set of sliding glass doors. The curtain was pulled back just enough. He peered inside the empty room and gave the door a push—locked. Holding his breath, he listened to see if he heard anyone talking. Nothing. He moved around the side and peered into another bedroom, also empty. He took off back to the front, moved up the porch, pressed against the wall, took out his gun, and looked inside again.
A smile pulled at his lips when he saw her at the kitchen window looking out. He pulled out his Glock, twisted the doorknob, and smiled when it turned. The bitch was making it easy for him.
The door squeaked as he moved inside. She turned. Her expression froze. The fear in her eyes sent a thrill to his dick. He bolted forward.
She screamed. He saw her gaze shift to a baseball bat that leaned against the wall. She dove, he caught her and yanked her in front of him. His gaze and gun stayed on the hall in case anyone rushed out.
“Shut up,” he ground out. Then he slammed her head into the wall.
She went limp and fell to the floor. She must have been faking it, because she rolled and put a foot right into his face. He felt his lip bust. The coppery taste of his blood filled his mouth.
“Fuck you!” he seethed, grabbing her by the ankle. She kicked his arm with her other foot and broke his hold. Her next kick caught him in the gut.
While he gasped for air, she managed to get free and to the door. Had her hand on the knob. He lunged at her, caught her by the legs and slung her around. Losing her balance, she came down and hit her head on the edge of the coffee table. The loud clunk told him she’d hit hard. He snatched her up, turned her over. She squirmed, trying to flip side to side, like a fish about to die. He grabbed a fistful of hair and slammed her face on the floor.
She went still. He yanked out the zip ties he’d stuffed in his pocket. Grabbed her hands and pulled them together.
She started twisting again. He went to tighten the ties. Before he got them pulled all the way, she rolled over and kicked his chest. Damn, she was a fighter. She was halfway to her feet, but unsteady as if dizzy. Blood dripped from her head. He dove at her, pinning her to the floor. Putting his hand around her throat, he squeezed. Squeezed hard.
She kicked, fought to get free, but he had her. She was his now. Not to kill. Not yet.
When he saw her eyes start to roll back in her head, he loosened his grip on her throat. She gasped for air.
“Where’s my money and book?” He felt the knife heavy in his pocket and decided right then that slicing her throat was the way he’d finish her. But only after she told him what he needed to know, and after he’d had his fun.
“Tell me or I’m going to hurt you bad.”
* * *
Juan cut the corner and saw Bell and the boys standing by the swings. Sweetie’s leash was tied to a tree.
Bell was safe, but what about Vicki?
“What’s wrong?” Ricky asked, gasping for air as he stopped beside him.
Juan looked up. He saw his elderly neighbor sitting on his porch waving at him. He knew Mr. Buxton had shotguns. Right then, Christina, pulling in air, stopped beside him.
“Go!” Juan pointed to Mr. Buxton. “Take Bell and the boys. Stay in Mr. Buxton’s cabin. He’s got guns. Use them if you have to, but don’t let anyone else in!”
“What the hell is it?” Ricky asked.
“Just do it!” Juan took off. Thinking he’d make it faster through the woods, he darted off the path.
He was only halfway there when he heard Vicki scream.
He pushed himself faster, jumping over brush, plowing through his fear that he was going to be too late.
More screams turned his abs rock hard.
As he approached the cabin, he saw the door was ajar.
He slowed down and took the stairs silently. His gut burned and air became locked in his lungs. He leaned over and looked through the window. Vicki lay on the floor, and Pablo was on his knees straddling her. He had a gun in his hands and a knife lay on the floor beside him.
“Tell me wher
e my money is or I’m going to get that pretty little daughter of mine and hurt her again!”
With fury and disgust aimed at the man, Juan bolted through the door.
Pablo must have heard him, because he turned, pointing his gun at Juan. A shot rang out.
Juan dove to the side. The bullet missed, but his hand slammed against the coffee table, dislodging his gun from his grip.
The next second passed in a whirl.
Juan lunged forward, wrestling Pablo’s gun away. The sound of his weapon hitting the floor offered little relief when the man’s fist plunged into Juan’s gut.
Air whooshed out of his mouth. The man slammed on top of him. Juan blocked Pablo’s punches and landed a fist in the man’s mouth and his teeth cut into Juan’s knuckles. Then a glint of something metal in Pablo’s hand caught Juan’s eyes. A knife. Coming right at Juan’s face.
He managed to grab Pablo’s arm with both hands, stopping the blade from sinking into his eye.
With his other hand, Pablo grasped Juan around his throat. The tightened grip blocked Juan’s air. To prevent Pablo from choking him, he’d have to let go of the man’s forearm, risk being stabbed.
He was still weighing his options when a cracking sound echoed above him. Pablo slumped to the floor.
Juan sucked air. Vicki wavered, her ankles still bound, but she stood over him. Baseball bat in her hands, she had tears and blood streaming down her face.
Jumping to his feet, he kicked Pablo’s gun and knife across the room. Thump. Thump. Thump. His heart slammed against his ribs.
Vicki’s knees gave, and he caught her. “How badly are you hurt?” Thump. Thump. Thump. He sat her on the coffee table, then bolted for his gun. His gaze flipped from Vicki to the unconscious man.
Blood gushing sounded in his ears with every throb of his heart. “Are you shot or stabbed?” he repeated.
She didn’t answer.
Eyes on Valado. Then eyes on her, he grabbed the knife from the floor, and cut the ties around Vicki’s ankles.
“Answer me!” Standing, he positioned himself so he could see Valado and her at the same time. He parted her hair where blood had pooled, feeling her tremble. The gash didn’t look like a bullet wound. But she had blood all over. Thump. Thump. Thump. “Vicki, are you shot or stabbed?”
He reached to lift her top when she shook her head. “Bell?” Her voice came out raw and raspy. Breathless. As if she were waking up from a nightmare and realizing it wasn’t a dream, her eyes cut to Valado.
He did the same. He needed to secure the perp. He needed her out of here.
“Bell’s fine. Can you walk?”
She nodded.
He pulled her up. “Go! Police are on their way.” His gun remained pointed on Valado. One move. One sound. One blink of an eye and Juan would shoot him.
Footsteps pounded onto the porch. The oxygen in the air went missing. When no one screamed police, Juan swung his weapon to the door. Milbourn, gun drawn, stormed in the doorway.
Adrenaline tightened Juan’s finger on the trigger. “Drop it!” he ordered, all his attention on the new threat.
Milbourn lowered his weapon. Then in a flash, he raised it. Juan shoved Vicki down before a gun exploded. But it hadn’t been Milbourn’s.
Juan swung his gun on Valado at the same second another pop sounded.
The man was now sitting up. Blood squirted out from a hole in his forehead. His eyes remained open, unmoving. Empty. His upper body wavered, then dropped to the floor with a dead thud. The hem of his jeans on his left leg was raised and showed an empty holster.
Juan turned to Milbourn now collapsed against the wall. His gun dropped and clanked against the tile floor. His knees gave and he slid down the wall.
“Where are you hit?” Juan asked.
Milbourn looked down at his right thigh, where blood gushed through a hole in his jeans. When blood pooled on the floor, Juan knew the bullet had hit the femoral artery. He yanked off his belt and fit it around the man’s upper thigh. He pulled it tight. Then tighter.
Milbourn screamed.
“We gotta stop the bleeding,” Juan told him.
Vicki came and sat down beside Milbourn. He looked at her. “I tried…to stop him. I gave your sister the book, told her to give it to the police if he didn’t…didn’t leave her alone. But when she took his money, he…”
“What money?” Vicki asked, her voice scratchy and raw. Juan saw the bruising around her throat. Saw the blood oozing from her lips. The thought of how close he came to losing her sent acid burning a path to his gut.
Milbourn closed his eyes. “He stole it from the drug…” He took in a deep breath. “After you were found in Phoenix, I had the PI leave so you could escape. But I…” He let out a moan. “I should’ve never sent him, but Pablo threatened…”
Juan grabbed his phone and dialed 911, spitting out the address, asking for an ambulance and cops. “Are you at Lakeside Shores?” the operator asked.
“Yes.”
“Cops and an emergency crew should be arriving now. Is everyone okay?”
“No. Tell them to hurry.”
“Stop.” Vicki’s voice brought Juan’s gaze up. She reached for Milbourn’s hands as he loosened the belt.
Juan dropped to his knees and retightened the belt. “Loosen it and you’ll die.”
Milbourn reached for the belt again. “I’ve screwed up. I don’t want my wife and daughter…They don’t deserve…”
Vicki caught his wrist. “Look at me. My mom screwed up. She screwed up over and over again. But the thing that’s the hardest to forgive her for is drinking herself to death.”
Juan heard someone call out. “Police! Come out with your hands up.”
“Stop!” another officer yelled.
“Juan!” Ricky’s voice echoed outside.
Juan bolted up. “Don’t shoot him!” he screamed. Ricky rushed inside, fire in his eyes and a shotgun in his hands.
Juan’s heart felt too big for his chest. He snatched the shotgun away and yanked him away from the door. “That was stupid.”
“You’d have done the same thing.”
Juan couldn’t deny it. He called out, “All’s clear. I’m Detective Juan Acosta, I called 911. We’re unarmed. You can come in.” He looked at Milbourn. His chin slumped forward to his chest. Blood still oozed from his leg. “We need a medical team in here now.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Juan watched as medics lifted Milbourn onto a stretcher. Seconds later, with sirens blaring, the ambulance sped off. A second one pulled in almost immediately, and they loaded Vicki in it.
Juan crawled into the back with her and gave her hand a squeeze. “I’ll be up there as soon as I talk to the police.”
“No. Check on Bell.”
“I’ll do that before I come up.”
She nodded.
Juan sent his brother to go check on Bell first. He made short work of explaining things to the police, but assured them he’d be available for questions later if they needed him. Then, as promised, he took off to see Bell, who was with Christina and his nephews at Mr. Buxton’s cabin.
He found Mr. Buxton sitting on the front porch, a shotgun beside him.
“Thank you,” Juan said.
“And here you acted like you didn’t want me to have my guns here.”
“I take it back.” Juan pumped the man’s hand and walked inside. Ricky and the boys sat at the kitchen table lining up dominos. Ricky looked up when Juan walked in. Christina sat on the sofa with a teary-eyed Bell in her lap. Sweetie lay beside them.
When the child saw him, she scrambled out of Christina’s arms and ran right into his. He picked her up. She put her hands on Juan’s cheeks.
“Where’s my mama?” Her young voice shook. “Why wouldn’t they let me go back there?”
Juan realized he didn’t know what to tell the child, but he offered out something. “She fell and hit her head and she’s at a doctor getting stitches.”
“Ca
n I go see her?”
“She wants you to stay with Christina and take care of Sweetie. You are going to go back to Anniston to her house, and we’ll pick you up as soon as we can.”
“No, I stay with you.” She leaned in. “I don’t know them.”
“But you can trust them. Christina is really nice and I need to get your mom. So you have to go with them. Can you be a big girl for me? Please, Bell.”
Bell pouted, but nodded. “I was scared. When I saw you run away.”
“I know, but you don’t have to be scared anymore. I promise.”
She rested her head on his shoulder. “I love you.”
Juan closed his eyes and savored the sweetness of those words. “I love you, too.” And saying it made his eyes sting.
The child lifted her head and sniffled. “Did she really fall?”
“What?” Juan asked.
“My other mom used to say she fell, but really my dad pushed her. I saw it.”
A knot formed in the middle of his sternum. “Bell, I’d never push your mom.”
“I know you wouldn’t. You’re a good guy. But there are bad guys, too. My daddy was one.” Tears rolled down her cheeks. “He hurt her and me, too.”
“I know, but I won’t let anyone hurt Vicki or you ever again.” And somehow, damn it, he vowed to keep his word.
A few minutes later, when he set Bell down, she went to the table to watch his nephews knock down all the dominos they’d lined up.
Christina, emotion in her expression, looked at him. “That’s so sad.”
“I know,” he said.
“She really does love you.”
“It’s mutual,” he said.
“And her mother?”
“I love them both,” he said, and damn if that didn’t feel good. He glanced at his sister-in-law. “But I screwed up and I don’t know how I’m going to unscrew it.”
“I know, I heard.” She made a face.
“Yeah. But I swear I wasn’t thinking about…That was just a mistake. But I did…Angie’s and my anniversary was yesterday and I forgot it, and when I remembered I felt guilty. And Vicki knew it. I didn’t know what to say. How can I explain to her that I want her in my life but I feel guilty for wanting it?”
Don't Breathe a Word: Includes a bonus novella (Texas Justice Book 2) Page 31
