Running Target

by Elizabeth Goddard

  She eyed him up and down. “You look like a wreck.”

  “Get used to seeing me like this. I’ll be a wreck until Stevie is back.”

  “What about you, Quinn? What do you think is going to happen to you?”

  “Well, if my plan succeeds, I’ll be exonerated.”

  “Why did it have to come to this? You could have come in sooner.”

  “Come on, Julia. You might live by the book, but there are others who don’t, and you know that. I needed to find out more. Find evidence, solid evidence, so it wouldn’t be my word against his. I didn’t steal the money.”

  He’d holed up in the camper, but come down the mountain to gather intel, research on the internet and find out what he could, which hadn’t been much. His hands had been tied by his limited access to resources. All he could do was wait for things to die down, and the truth about Declan would come out on its own. Declan could blow his own cover and his double-crossing without Quinn around to blame. Or Michael could find out it had been Declan who stole the money.

  Sometimes it was best to wait things out.

  He suddenly realized Julia was staring. He’d been lost in thought.

  The way she eyed him, he could see that she wasn’t sure she trusted him.

  “Why are you helping me if you think I’m guilty?”

  “I didn’t say that I think you’re guilty. But you convinced me to help you because of the boy. Now let’s focus on getting him back.”

  He nodded. “Right. You’re right. Thank you, again.” He couldn’t really thank her enough. “I owe you.”

  “Like you’re going to be able to repay,” she said.

  Because he would be dead. Come on, Julia, have a little faith.

  He pulled a chair out for her at the small round table. She took a seat and he sat opposite her.

  “Just stick to the plan we discussed. Did you bring it?”

  She rolled her eyes and sighed. “Sure. You know it’s a prototype, right? I had to call in another favor.”

  He grinned. “That’s what I like about you, Julia. You have a lot of connections.”

  Her eyes widened. “And some connections with some unsavory characters.” She batted her fake lashes, her way of letting him know she referred to him.

  Except he wasn’t unsavory. Far from it. This situation had made him out to be just that, though.

  “Time to get down to business.” She opened up her bag and pulled out a box. “Roll up your sleeve, please.”

  He did as she asked. She swabbed his upper arm with an alcohol wipe, then pulled out a huge needle.

  Whoa, whoa... “Wait a minute.”

  “Scared of needles, are we?”

  “Well, you gotta admit, that’s a monster.”

  “How else are we going to inject you with this tracking microchip?”

  “Are you sure this is safe?”

  “No. You asked for it.”

  Yes. Yes, he did.

  She pressed the large needle against his skin, then blinked her big eyes up at him. “Let me be clear that I don’t like your plan.” Then she plunged the needle in and injected the microchip.

  He gritted his teeth. He sure hoped this would work, because he was at the very least betting his life on it.

  “If you knew what I’d been through already, you’d understand why I’m willing to hand myself over to them.” He’d been tortured before. “While I’d prefer not to go through it again, knowing that someone has my back can get me through.”

  “So, what? You’ll let them torture you and then you’ll tell them where the money is?”

  “Come on, you don’t think I took it.”

  “I don’t know what to think. But I’m in this with you now. So you’d better find a way to exonerate yourself.”

  “With your help, maybe I can.”

  “That’s why I’m here. Now let’s go get the boy.”

  She drove him over to Bree’s house in her rental car and parked down the street. He got out, then peered at her through the window. “You have the address. Just stick to the plan.”

  THIRTEEN

  Quinn entered through the back door of Bree’s house. In the living room, she whipped around, her red hair flying, her face twisted in anguish.

  Before he could say a word, she laid into him. “You’re late, Quinn! We’re running out of time.”

  “We have plenty of time.”

  “The sheriff is probably watching me. The bad guys could be watching, too. If anyone arrests you then Stevie could lose his life. If the man behind the kidnapping gets his hands on you without my help, then why would he bother giving me Stevie?”

  She was losing it. He didn’t blame her and understood—he felt like crumbling, too. Poor Bree. He closed the distance, then as he lifted his hand, she flinched. He thought better of reaching out to comfort her.

  Instead he scraped a hand down his face again—it was becoming a habit. Was he risking too much by coming here? All of what she said could be true, except... “Nobody saw me. I made sure nobody was watching.”

  She pressed her hands to her face. Quinn didn’t let himself reason through the whys or why nots. He rushed to embrace her. He held her tight.

  A few minutes later, her tears spent, she stepped away and stared at him. Terror was clearly gripping her.

  “We have to go now, Bree. Come on, you can do this.”

  “No, I can’t do this. I can’t exchange you. It has nothing to do with my job as a deputy.”

  He grabbed her hands. “I carried Steve to you. I’ll never get over that. But let me do this. Let me give you Stevie. Get him back for you. Besides, you don’t have a choice. I’m going there with or without you. You’re not handing me over. I’m delivering myself.”

  “I have to be there, too—for Stevie. I have to go so I can make sure he’s all right.”

  Though Quinn didn’t like the idea of Bree being there at all, Stevie needed her to be there for the exchange. Julia would only be there as backup to protect both Stevie and Bree. No one would know she was there, not even Bree.

  “Okay, then, so what are we waiting on?” he asked.

  She dangled keys. “I borrowed my neighbor’s car for this afternoon, just to throw off anyone who might follow me in my car. The sheriff is hoping I’ll meet up with you, after all. I know he asked me to tell him before it happens and made a show of trusting me to do that, but...”

  “You don’t believe he’ll trust you.”

  “Not as far as he can throw me, because he thinks I’m under your influence.” She emphasized the word with finger quotes. “The only influence I’m under is the deep need to save Stevie. If working with you is what it takes, then so be it. My job doesn’t matter anymore.”

  Yeah, working with the unsavory Quinn, as Julia had called him, had to give them both a bad reputation. He blew out a breath. Now, to turn it all upside down.

  Driving Bree’s neighbor’s old white sedan, he steered them out of the quiet neighborhood, going the long way around so they wouldn’t pass through town, and out to the bay area, toward their destination. With ten minutes to spare, he found the rutted drive out to Coldwater Bay where an old run-down oyster factory sat, long ago replaced with a newfangled building a few miles away. What a waste of property. This part of the bay was in serious need of a beautification project.

  As the sedan bounced along the uneven road, he looked for signs of an unwanted law enforcement detail, or of Julia. He hoped he saw neither but for different reasons.

  “You didn’t call him, did you?”

  “Who? The sheriff? Of course not. All I care about right now is Stevie.”

  “Same here.”

  In a few short minutes, Stevie could be safe with Bree. And Quinn could be drawn and quartered. He’d actually seen these guys do that. He hadn’t been able to stop it
.

  His heart hammered at the thought of what he was about to face.

  There’s no other way...

  He pulled the car to the side of the road just about fifteen yards out from where the warehouse sat along the water. The sky was blue and partly cloudy. Seagulls hovered on the wind and danced in the air, like it was just another day.

  And it was—for everyone except for Bree, Stevie and Quinn. He reached for the door handle and made to get out.

  She touched his arm. “Wait, Quinn. I don’t know what to expect. How will I handle Stevie? What do I tell him? He must be scared to death.”

  “My guess is that he won’t remember a thing.”

  “What?”

  “They will have probably drugged him.”

  Her face paled.

  “That way he won’t remember faces or names. It’s better that way, Bree. You don’t want him to remember the horror of being kidnapped and held for ransom.”

  Her head bobbed up and down as if in agreement. “I didn’t mean that, Quinn. What I said earlier. I didn’t mean that all I care about right now is Stevie.”

  “It’s okay. Stevie is all we should care about. Getting him back and keeping him safe.”

  “I care about you.” She grabbed his hand as if she wouldn’t let him go. Her hand trembled in his. “Are you sure about this?”

  “Yes. Stick to the plan. Stay strong, for Stevie. Once you have him take him away from here. Don’t pass go. Don’t collect two hundred dollars. Don’t look back. Don’t come back for me. I have a plan and I’ll be in touch.”

  She eased closer and grabbed his collar, pulling him to her. Bree pressed her lips to his in a quick kiss. “Stay alive, Quinn Strand.”

  “That’s the plan.” Though he hadn’t told her the whole of it.

  He wished she hadn’t kissed him because that messed with his head. He had to focus on the dangerous, deadly task ahead of him with a child’s life at stake. Instead, all he could think about was the softness of her lips on his.

  Ears roaring with his skyrocketing pulse, he opened the car door and made his way to the warehouse, one grueling footstep after another. Images of fighting his way through the thugs to get Stevie ran through his brain. What if he could do this that way? Strong-arm his way through a wall of armed and dangerous thugs to rescue one little boy.

  All of his ideas were too risky for Stevie. One stray bullet and he could end up just like Julia’s son.

  One thing he knew, Michael kept his word. When he told his men he would kill them if they didn’t return with Quinn, they believed him. When he told his men to exchange Stevie for Quinn, they would hand the boy over. Unharmed. Untouched.

  And in return, as Michael envisioned it, Quinn would hand over the money.

  That was all it was ever about.

  The love of money was the root of all evil. His mom used to tell him that scripture from the Bible. After what he had seen, he knew that to be 100 percent true. And evil men fed off others, pushing drugs to hook the weak into a lifelong addiction, all for more money, until hundreds of millions of dollars sat wrapped in plastic, filling warehouses.

  Agent Declan Miller hadn’t thought Michael Jones would miss a few hundred grand. But Michael had, and Quinn had been set up to take the fall.

  Three men rushed to surround him, pointing fully automatic guns at his chest.

  * * *

  Bree blinked her eyes open. Grogginess clung to her. “What—”

  She sensed someone...a presence... Quinn? Bree twisted around on the sofa to see a strange woman sitting in a chair.

  She bolted upright. Pain throbbed through her temples. Bree reached for her weapon. Where was it?

  “Relax.” The woman held up her badge.

  “DEA?” She must be here for Quinn. “I don’t—”

  “Just wait, and I’ll explain. Stevie is here. He’s in the bed.”

  “Stevie!” Bree got up and rushed to his room. She cradled him in her arms. The woman followed.

  “I don’t understand. What’s happened?” She couldn’t remember anything. She and Quinn had gone to meet the men to get Stevie back. To trade him for Stevie. What had she done? Why had she agreed to it?

  “He’s not waking up. What’s the matter with him?”

  “He is going to be fine. I suspect they gave him something to knock him out so he wouldn’t see their faces. The same as they gave you so you couldn’t share with the police the faces of all the men involved in the kidnapping. Drugging you saved both your lives.”

  Except Bree had already seen some of their faces that day on the river. Maybe those men were expendable in the organization.

  Bree lowered little Stevie to the pillow. He was so pale. “Come on, sweetie. Wake up.” She turned toward the other woman. “I should get him to the ER just to make sure.”

  His eyes blinked open. “Auntie Bree?” His words sounded groggy, just like she felt.

  She squeezed him to her again, never wanting to let him go.

  Thank You, Lord! He was here safe and sound with her at home. “It’s okay, honey.” She settled him back on the bed and ran her fingers over his forehead, brushing back his hair. “Just rest now.”

  His eyelids fluttered until they closed again. “Sleep, sweetie. Sleep.” But she really wanted him to wake up and be himself again. She pressed her hands over her eyes. What was going on? Why couldn’t she remember? She’d watched Quinn walking forward.

  But nothing after that. She remembered nothing. Did this woman have anything to do with that? She twisted her head to look up at the woman, delivering a glare.

  The woman had long black hair and dark brown eyes. A beauty, really. The agent offered a tenuous smile. “You’re the woman in the picture.”

  Bree scrunched up her face, irritated at this intruder in her home, DEA or not. “What picture?”

  “Quinn always carries a picture of a woman with him. It’s you.”

  Bree had no idea what to think. “I don’t see what that has to do with anything. What is it that you want?”

  “Look, Bree...may I call you that?”

  Bree pushed up from Stevie’s bed and watched him. How long before he was back to normal? “Sure, and you said your name was—”

  “I didn’t. Can we talk? Leave him to sleep?”

  Though she didn’t want to leave Stevie alone, she nodded her agreement and bent down to kiss him on the cheek, whispering, “I’ll be back. You sleep.”

  His eyes popped open, surprising Bree. “I want Grandpa.”

  “Grandpa will be here soon.” She’d have to call him to let him know what had happened. “Now rest, sweetie. I’ll make you a smoothie in a little while, okay?”

  He smiled, then rolled over. Her heart leaped.

  She closed Stevie’s door, wanting nothing more than to take him away from here. Take him away from anyone who wanted to harm him. Anyone who would ever try to snatch him again. Bree followed the woman through the house, stopping momentarily to grab a hidden weapon. She wanted protection in case she needed it.

  Once they were in the living area, the woman turned, her expression somber. “I’m Agent Julia McKesson. We have a problem.”

  “No kidding. What has happened? I—”

  “I brought you both back here. The men, well...they drugged you. You were sitting in the car and they came up behind you. You fought them. You obviously don’t remember that part.”

  No. She didn’t. “And you know this how?”

  “I was watching everything. Quinn traded himself for the boy. They left you and the boy—”

  “It’s Stevie.”

  “Stevie. They left you and Stevie in the car sleeping. After they were gone, I brought you both back here. Quinn recruited me to be a hidden backup to protect the two of you. And I’ve done that. But it’s Quinn I’m worried about now.
”

  Bree eased onto the sofa. Oh, Lord, what have we done? Please protect him. “You’re DEA. Why did you let him do this?”

  “You’re a deputy. Why did you?”

  “I don’t know. I... I couldn’t let them hurt Stevie.”

  “Neither could Quinn. Neither could I.”

  “What now? He told me that he had a plan. He made me believe it was the only way, and that he would make it work.” She pressed her hands over her face. “What have I done?”

  “You got your son back.”

  “He’s my nephew.”

  “Whatever. You have the child back, so you can’t blame yourself. I’m not sure how much he shared with you, but Quinn does have a plan. The problem is that I’m going to need your help.”

  “Why is that a problem?”

  “Quinn didn’t want you in on this.”

  “I don’t get it. Why didn’t he share his plan with me?”

  “He was trying to protect you.”

  “But you’re not.”

  “I’m trying to get Quinn back.”

  “Do you love him?” She could see the two of them together. Handsome Quinn and beautiful Julia. They were both DEA. Quinn had called her in to help him. Had trusted her with his plan. He’d trusted Julia and not Bree.

  The woman laughed. “I couldn’t love a man who was always looking at another woman’s picture.”

  Point taken. Bree wasn’t sure how she felt about Quinn looking at her picture, but she’d ponder that another time. His life was in danger now.

  A noise at the door brought Bree to her feet with her weapon. Agent McKesson, too.

  Dad stumbled into the house and his eyes grew wide. He immediately threw up his hands.

  Bree dropped her weapon. “Dad!” She rushed to him. Hugged him. “What are you doing here?”

  “Someone contacted me and told me to come home to help you and Stevie.” Her father’s eyes shifted to something over her shoulder.

  “Grandpa!” Stevie ran to him and jumped in his arms.

  “Hey, little buddy. I’m so sorry we didn’t get to make our trip.”

  “Dad, you should go to Idaho with Stevie. This isn’t over. Please.”