Christmas Ranch Rescue
Page 16
Blood pooled beneath his head, soaking the dirt floor.
“Drop it.”
The voice registered and she jerked her gaze from Nathan’s still form to find herself looking at the barrel of a wicked-looking gun.
“Drop the phone and move away from Nathan.”
“Zeb? What are you doing? He needs help.”
“If I didn’t want him to die, I wouldn’t have hit him in the head. Now move!”
Shock held her motionless. Then the fury built, like a slow storm.
“It’s you,” she whispered. Visuals of him in the barn, always around, in the feed room offering to change out her bins for her. The memories clicked and it all became so clear. How had she missed it? Because she’d thought he was hanging around so much due to his feelings for her. Shame at her assumptions filled her. She brushed it off. He’d let her think that on purpose.
“It’s me,” he said. “Now, where are the other barrels?”
“What other barrels?”
“The other feed barrels! There were two in the back of this bunch!”
Concern for Nathan wanted to push out every other thought, but she had to focus. Zeb had a gun.
“I—I don’t have them anymore.”
He blanched. “Not the answer I want. Where are they?”
“I gave them away.”
“Gave them away!” His screech reverberated. “To who?”
“A friend who needed some feed for her horses until her order came in!” Becca couldn’t help the wobble in her voice. This was Zeb. How had she not seen it?
He tossed a backpack at her feet. “Put the drugs in there and let’s go.”
“What? No! I have to take care of Nathan.”
Zeb swung the weapon and aimed it at Nathan. “Do it, or I’ll put a bullet in his head. I didn’t shoot him when I could have. He has a chance to live if you do exactly what I say.”
He was serious. Completely, deadly serious. With a lingering look at Nathan’s colorless face, Becca knew the only way she was going to have a chance to help him was to do what Zeb ordered. Zeb hadn’t shot Nathan when he could have. Why? He didn’t care if he lived or died. It was because he needed her cooperation. As long as there was a chance to help Nathan, she would do whatever Zeb wanted her to do. He’d use that to his advantage.
She grabbed the backpack and scrambled through the spilled feed to find the bags of drugs.
“Make sure you get them all.”
“How many are there?”
“Fifty.”
“Fifty bags of what? Cocaine? Heroin?”
“Doesn’t matter. Just get busy.”
“What was your purpose in everything? Why did you try to kill me?”
“Why couldn’t you have just died the day you fell off Pete?” he muttered.
She paused and glanced at Nathan. His eyes were still closed, but his chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. “What did you do to Pete?”
“Laced his water with a bit of cocaine.”
Fury gathered beneath the fear. “What about Pete’s abscess? I saw that with my own eyes.”
“I knew you’d go looking into why Pete was acting so crazy. I gave him that wound and called it an abscess.” He shook his head. “You didn’t even question it.”
No, she hadn’t. She’d been so consumed with her own healing, she hadn’t been as focused as she should have been. And she’d trusted Zeb. “You’re a good vet. Animals love you.” She shot him a withering glance. “What a waste.”
Her look didn’t faze him. “Nope, a good cover.”
She continued to load the backpack, not sure whether to pray that Nathan would wake up or stay out. She was afraid if he woke, Zeb would hurt him again. Or worse.
Finally, Becca counted the last packet and shoved the bag at Zeb. He took it and slung it over his shoulder.
A memory flashed in her mind. “You were here. In the barn.”
“What?”
“The day of my accident.” Or murder attempt. She bit her tongue on the words. No sense in provoking him. “You were here in the barn.”
“Yes. You weren’t supposed to be here, remember?”
The memory returned full force and she gasped. “I do remember now.” She’d had an appointment with the banker and she’d changed it so she could do the lesson with Christina. She simply hadn’t been up to facing what she knew he was going to tell her. She knew her financial status and didn’t need it hammered home that she was skating on thin ice. “I asked you what you were doing, and you said you’d left some piece of equipment and had come back to get it.”
“Right. But I couldn’t tell if you believed me or not.”
She blinked. “Why wouldn’t I believe you?”
Zeb didn’t speak.
“Must have been your guilty conscience.”
“I don’t have a conscience anymore.” He motioned to the door with the weapon. “Let’s go.”
“Where?”
“To make my promised delivery. If you had just been ten minutes later getting here, I would have had this all taken care of and you wouldn’t be in this situation. But no,” he muttered. “You had to drive up just as I was getting ready to transfer the drugs.”
“Did you kill Larry? The one who was shot sitting in the back of Clay’s cruiser?”
He scowled. “It doesn’t matter.”
“Of course it matters! He was a person.”
“A person who got caught and could take us all down.”
“Who else, Zeb?”
“I’ve said too much. Now let’s go.”
“What does it matter how much you say? You’re not going to let me live anyway.”
Her soft words seemed to reach some forgotten part of him and he flinched. Then his features hardened and he grabbed her arm to shove her toward the barn exit. “Now.”
Nathan still lay quiet on the hay, blood congealing beneath his head. How her fingers itched to examine the wound, clean it, bandage it...kiss it. Nathan!
Her heart pounded against her ribs and she scrambled for an escape idea. With her back, she couldn’t attack him and have a hope of overpowering him. She’d simply wind up more hurt than she already was. Possibly to the point that she wouldn’t be able to move. No, she had to be smart. To think.
Zeb stuck a hand in his pocket and withdrew a lighter.
Becca sucked in a terrified breath. “Zeb. Don’t. Please don’t burn it down.”
“Sorry, Becca. I have to destroy any evidence that I might have left here.”
He wasn’t sorry.
“Then at least help me get Nathan out.”
He gave a harsh laugh. “I don’t think so.”
Her terror intensified. “I’m not leaving him.”
“Yes, you are. I might need a hostage and you’re the best option I’ve got right now.”
“Everyone knows you’re here frequently. Even if you have left something behind no one would think anything about it. You don’t have to burn it down.”
He flicked the lighter and held it against the hay bale. Grief and fury flared inside her. But she didn’t move, just watched the flame.
“I’m not going with you.”
Zeb turned the gun on Nathan. “If you don’t come peacefully, I’ll put a bullet in his head.” He shrugged. “If you come nicely, you never know. He might wake up and get out.”
If he really thought there was a chance Nathan was going to escape, he’d never just walk away. But his words held truth in one sense. Nathan wouldn’t get up with a bullet in his head.
She knelt beside him while smoke filled the air around her. “Nathan! Wake up!” Zeb grabbed her upper arm and dragged her toward the exit.
“The horses!”
“Collateral damag
e! Gotta look like an accident.”
An accident. And then they’d find her body somewhere in a ditch.
“Nathan!”
The horses whinnied and started to panic. She heard their frantic hooves beating against their stalls and her heart cried while her feet moved. Zeb held her bicep in a vice grip, and there was no pulling away from him. And she couldn’t take a chance on severely incapacitating herself by fighting him. Right now her back hurt, but it wouldn’t keep her from running if she had the opportunity.
“Nathan!”
Flames licked at her heels as the two of them burst from the building.
FIFTEEN
Nathan lay on the dirt floor of the barn until he knew Zeb and Becca were gone. He’d never fully lost consciousness, but he lay still long enough for the ringing in his ears and the throbbing in his head to subside a bit.
And as long as Zeb thought he was dead—or dying in the fire—Nathan might live. And he had to live in order to make sure Becca survived.
At least she was now out of the barn even though her cries still echoed in his ears. The head wound wasn’t lethal, just painful. A possible concussion, but at least he could move. He thought.
Once they were out of sight, Nathan rolled carefully onto his right side and then to his stomach. The smoke grew thicker and the flames roared stronger, licking up everything in their path.
Horses cried out, their hooves slashing against their stalls that had now become their death traps.
Nathan army-crawled to the nearest stall, ignoring the renewed pounding in his head that the movement triggered. At least his vision wasn’t blurry even though he had to squint to see through the haze of smoke.
Pulling himself up, staying out of the way of the exit, he released the latch on the first stall. Pete raced out. The temperature in the barn climbed. Sweat dripped into his eyes and down his forehead, and he swiped it away with his wrist.
His lungs strained and his eyes burned.
He made his way down the line of stalls, one by one, releasing the animals, hurrying, desperate to stay ahead of the flames.
Smoke clogged his lungs and Nathan coughed into his elbow. Finally, strength ebbing, at the last stall, he took a breath near the floor then stood. He released the latch and caught the horse by the mane as it came out. With a low grunt and a last-ditch, life-saving, effort, he swung himself onto the animal’s back.
The fire continued to burn along the opposite wall, but thankfully, the path out of the barn remained flame free.
Nathan ducked his head and let the horse find his way out.
Once out in the open and away from the burning barn, Nathan pulled the horse to a reluctant stop and slid from the animal’s back, dragging in deep gulps of fresh air.
His legs buckled and nausea churned. Coughing, he reached for his phone and slapped an empty pocket. With a groan, he rolled to his knees. Becca...
* * *
“Nathan!” Becca tried to run back toward the barn, but Zeb kept a firm grip on her upper arm. She jerked against his hold, turning to fight him, and he gave her a hard shake. Hard enough to send warning spasms up her spine.
“He’s dead by now! Keep walking! Get in the truck! You’re going to take me to those barrels.”
Becca stumbled and went to her knees, grief stabbing her. “Nathan!”
He yanked her to her feet. “Go!”
Horses thundered past and her heart leapt. Was it possible Nathan had managed to let them out? Or had they broken down the stalls in their fear and desperation to escape?
Please let it be Nathan, God. With hope partially renewed, she walked on shaky legs, staying just ahead of Zeb and the gun he jabbed into the small of her back.
“Where are the barrels?”
“I told you. I gave them away.” But Jean hadn’t called to let her know that she’d found anything unusual in them. Like bags of drugs. So maybe she hadn’t gotten that far down into the barrel of feed yet?
Becca turned back toward the burning barn and horror filled her anew. There was no way Nathan had survived. Even if he’d managed to let the horses out, he couldn’t have gotten himself out, could he?
“You killed him,” she whispered.
“Hopefully. Now, the barrels! I want to know where they are. If I don’t get those drugs back, I’m a dead man, understand?”
“I understand, but I’m not siccing you on one of my friends.” She shrugged, tears dripping off her chin. “I simply won’t do it.”
“Then you’re dead. I can find out who it was by simple process of elimination. I walk up to the door and say, ‘Hi, Becca wanted to know when you’d be returning her barrels. Oh, I’m sorry, wrong neighbor.’ And then move on to the next. So you can make this easier and live a little longer if you help me get them back. And maybe I won’t kill the person who has them. Got it?”
Becca got it. It wouldn’t take him an hour to figure it out. Which meant he didn’t need her. But he seemed to be in a hurry.
She trembled, tried to think. She had to get back to the barn to get Nathan. No, Nathan was dead. Sobs crowded her throat and she choked them back. She swiped the tears that had escaped and sucked in a breath. Crying wasn’t an option.
Maybe Nathan had gotten out. Please, God, let him have gotten out.
“The Staffords.”
She stiffened. “What?”
“That’s who you gave the feed to, isn’t it?”
“Why do you think it’s them?” Fear clutched her gut. No, she couldn’t put Jean and Hank in danger. “Why them? I have quite a few neighbors and friends around here.”
“Because I think I remember overhearing her on the phone ordering feed because she was almost out.”
He was going to go to Jean’s first. “Yes, you’re right. It’s her. But keep in mind, she hasn’t called or said anything about finding drugs in the barrels. She probably hasn’t used enough feed yet to find them. You don’t have to hurt her.”
“I’ll play that one by ear. I don’t want to hurt her if I don’t have to. And as long as you cooperate, I won’t have to.”
Zeb continued to steer her toward the truck, and she stumbled and let herself fall to the ground, at the same time trying not to injure her back again.
Her move took him by surprise and his hand fell away from her arm. She wrapped her fingers around the large rock and waited for him to bend over to grab her.
As she predicted, his fingers clamped on to her left arm. She let him pull, got her feet under her, and swung with her right arm as hard as she could.
The rock smashed into the right side of his head. He cried out, the gun tumbling from his fingers. Then his eyes closed and he collapsed on top of the weapon. She wanted to get the gun, but while he might be unconscious, he could be faking it, too.
Becca wasn’t finding out. Heart thudding, fear sending tremors through her, she raced back toward the burning barn. “Nathan!”
* * *
Nathan scrambled to get his feet under him. The dizziness had eased, but his fear for Becca hadn’t. He pushed himself around to the side of the burning barn and saw Becca running toward him. Behind her lay a body on the ground. Zeb.
“Becca!”
“Nathan!”
Zeb stirred, shook his head and looked up to meet Nathan’s gaze. The pure fury there chilled him. Nathan had no phone, no weapon and—it was starting to snow. “Come on, Becca. Hurry!”
“What?” She looked back over her shoulder. Nathan saw Zeb pull something from underneath him and realized it was a gun. Ignoring his own throbbing head and queasy stomach, he stumbled toward her and grabbed her hand. A gunshot sounded, but it was a wide miss.
Still, they needed to get to cover. “Into the woods, Becca.”
“No. The house. I have the rifle.”
“But we need help and Zeb made me toss my phone.”
Nathan continued to lead her back around the barn. He felt sure Zeb was following. “We’re going to have to make a run for it.”
She nodded and hand in hand, they took off for the woods. The crack of the pistol sounded again and this time the bullet only missed him by inches. Nathan swerved and Becca stayed with him. “Zigzag!”
She understood and copied his movements, running in an erratic pattern. Two more bullets whizzed by but missed, and then they were in the protective cover of the trees. Nathan’s head throbbed with an intensity that nearly blinded him, but there was nothing to be done except to ignore it. He pressed a hand to the wound and felt the dried blood covering the area. He winced at his touch but figured it could be worse.
“You’re hurt,” Becca said.
“Yes, but I’ll live. As long as we can stay out of the path of Zeb’s bullets, we both will.”
“We need to get help. Find a phone or something.” She stayed with him. “Jean’s,” she said. “We need to head to Jean’s. Zeb will go there. It’s only about a mile north of here.”
“How do you know he’ll go there?” His long legs ate up the distance, but she kept pace with him pretty well.
“Because he guessed that they were the neighbors I gave the feed to.”
“Let me guess. Those barrels had drugs in them, too.”
“Yes.”
“It’s all coming together now.”
“For me, too.”
He squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry I doubted you back there.”
“I’m sorry, too. That hurt.”
“Yeah. I know.”
“But I’ll probably forgive you.”
“Thanks.”
They fell silent and hurried as best they could through the undergrowth, staying just on the border of the tree line but far enough back so no one would be able to see them moving.
Finally, Becca grabbed his hand and pulled him to a stop. “There.”
“Where?”
“Through the trees and up the hill and we’ll be at Jean’s pasture. She has a phone in her barn, but that’s probably the first place Zeb will look for the barrels.”