She did. She must have realized that there was no way she'd get past Livingston, Meredith and the guards. When she finally picked up the baby, Jared eased her behind him. If bullets started flying, he didn't want her in their path.
"How are you this evening, Lieutenant Dillard?" Livingston calmly asked. He motioned toward Jared's weapon on the floor, and Meredith hurried to retrieve it.
Livingston walked closer. Just a few steps. And from that arrogant swagger, Jared knew he was facing the real boss. Meredith was simply a henchman.
"We figured we'd find either you or Lyle Brewer here," Jared said.
"Brewer? Not likely." Livingston made a dismissive gesture with his hand. "He's a peon, even though he has been invaluable at passing me vital information from Clarence. Of course, Brewer wasn't really aware of that. He's one of those Boy Scouts like you, Dillard."
Jared ignored the comparison. Maybe if Livingston came closer, or if Jared could distract him, he could grab him and use him as a human shield so he and Rachel could get past Meredith.
"So, all of this was your plan?" Jared asked.
"You mean the whole stolen embryo thing? No. Definitely not my idea. Too messy for me. I prefer a simpler approach, but Clarence put all of this into motion before I could stop him. He's a very determined man when he sinks his teeth into something. He got, well, obsessive about getting back at Rachel. When he couldn't find her to have her killed, he figured the baby was the way to do it."
It wasn't an easy thing to hear. His baby and his wife were merely pawns in one very sick game. "Let Rachel and the baby go."
"Touching, but not possible," Livingston said quickly. "I need her alive." He snapped his fingers at Agnes when she came back into the room and motioned for her to take the baby.
Rachel stepped back, but both Meredith and Livingston aimed their guns at the baby. She looked at Jared, fear and worry in her eyes. He nodded for her to hand the child over. This wasn't the time for a fight.
But soon.
Definitely soon.
Agnes walked closer, cautiously, and took the baby. Rachel didn't make a sound, but Jared heard the rough intake of breath and saw her hands clench into fists.
"Don't hurt him," Rachel said softly. "I'll cooperate. I'll do whatever you say."
Livingston placed his hand over his heart. "Definitely touching. But kill him? No. Well, not at this moment, anyway. Later, perhaps. I doubt any of this will surprise you, but you, my dear, are going to go to the courthouse and exonerate my good friend and partner, Clarence Esterman. You will clear him of any and all charges. I want no doubt in the jury's mind that nothing illegal ever went on. And you'll do it convincingly, or else your baby will pay the price. The child might not have been in my original plan, but now I intend to make good use of him."
The warden came closer but stayed just out of Jared's reach. Jared prayed for him to take one more step, and he might be able to get to him.
"And you, Lieutenant," Livingston continued. "I have a mission for you, as well. After Rachel's finished giving her award-winning performance on the witness stand, and after Clarence walks out of the jail as a free man, you'll be right there to meet him."
Jared shrugged. "Okay, I'll bite. Why would I want to do that?"
Livingston smiled. "So you can kill him, of course."
Chapter Nineteen
Rachel barely heard what Livingston said. She kept her attention on her child. On Agnes. The woman hovered in the doorway, the baby clutched in her arms. Agnes was obviously waiting for her boss to tell her what to do.
"Why would you want me to kill Esterman?" she heard Jared ask.
Only then did Livingston's comment sink in. She glanced at Livingston and saw that he was serious. He really wanted Esterman dead.
"Let's just say that he has the potential to become a liability. He's been chatting with the DA about possibly cutting a deal. I don't approve, and I'd rather not sully my own hands in ridding the world of Clarence Esterman—after your wife has cleared him, naturally. I don't want anyone digging in my direction because of Clarence." He checked his watch. "And without further ado, I'll send you two on your way. When your mission is done, your son will be returned to you. You have my word on that."
That gave Rachel no hope whatsoever. His word was worthless.
It was as if an iron fist took hold of her heart when Agnes turned to leave the room with Ben. She couldn't lose her baby.
Rachel started after them, but Jared stopped her. "Not now," he whispered.
And just like that, the baby was gone.
Other than choking back some tears, Rachel didn't have time to react. Livingston moved quickly. He gave the nod to two guards, and one of them ordered her and Jared out of the room. They got behind her with those guns so she didn't have to look at them, but it was paltry consolation. No panic attack, but her heart was breaking.
God, what was Livingston going to do with her baby?
They went down the stairs. Quickly, thanks to the guards shoving them in that direction. No sign of Agnes. She'd probably taken their son back to the makeshift nursery. Maybe Livingston wouldn't try to take him off the island.
"What do we do?" Rachel whispered to Jared.
He didn't answer until they were outside and headed toward a boathouse. "On the count of three, drop down. If you can, grab some sand and throw it in their faces. I'll take it from there and try to overpower them."
Rachel nodded and fought to keep control of her breath. It wasn't much of a plan. A lot of things could easily go wrong. Still, it was a chance, and she'd take it.
"Quit yapping," the guard snarled.
Jared ignored him. He did, however, give her a reassuring look when they were only a couple of yards from the boathouse. "One. Two…"
With the roaring in her head, Rachel didn't even hear Jared say the final number, but she saw the critical word form on his mouth.
Rachel fell to the ground, landing on her knees, and scooped up handfuls of sand. The guard on the left shouted something, and she saw him take aim just as she launched the sand into his face.
He cried out. Dropped the gun. And clutched at his eyes. She didn't stop. Rachel just kept tossing as much sand at him as she could.
Jared used the distraction to go after the other guard. He delivered a judo kick to the man's chest. His rifle went flying, and Jared retrieved it. He turned, and in the blink of an eye, had both men covered.
It had worked. The plan had worked!
"Get in the boathouse," he said to the guards. Jared kicked the other man's fallen weapon aside.
Rachel didn't have time to ask Jared what to do next. When the four of them were inside the boathouse, he ordered the guards to get facedown on the narrow deck next to a boat. The boat that was to take them back to shore so the guards could do Livingston's dirty work.
"Move and you're dead," Jared warned them.
And from the tone of his voice, he meant it.
"Rachel, see if you can find some rope so we can tie them up."
She looked around the area, but the best she could do was some fishing twine that she took from a tackle box on the deck. While Jared held the rifle on the men, she trussed their hands to their feet. When she finished, Jared stuffed some rags into their mouths, tested the twine, and then tossed them into the boat.
Then he took her arm and started back toward the house.
They hadn't made it far when she heard the sound. Not gunfire, but something much more frightening.
A helicopter.
And it was about to land on the roof of the house.
"The baby," Rachel managed to say. "Livingston's going to take the baby."
Rachel started to race toward the house but only made it a couple of steps. With her attention on the approaching helicopter, she didn't even hear Meredith step out from a cluster of shrubs.
Jared aimed his gun.
But it was too late.
Meredith latched onto her, hauled her in front of him and put the gu
n to her head.
* * *
JARED'S HEART JUMPED to his throat. The bastard had Rachel. He had her.
Hell, how had this happened?
Jared met her gaze. For only a second. But he couldn't believe the look he saw in her eyes. Not fear. Not even a hint of it. And he knew it cost more to hide the fear than to show it.
"Let her go," Jared bargained. "There's no reason for you to do Livingston's bidding. With your connections, God knows how low you can plea down this case. Turn state's evidence, and you could be a free man."
It was another lie—there would be no plea bargaining for a hired killer—but Jared was willing to do whatever it took to save Rachel.
"I'd rather not call my lawyer right now, if you don't mind."
Meredith's voice was calm. Too calm. Either he was a certifiable lunatic or else he killed as easily as he breathed. Jared didn't want to guess which.
Meredith glanced at the rifle that Jared held. "Put that down. Now." And to emphasize his request, Meredith shoved his gun even harder against Rachel's temple. She winced in pain. "And, Jared, if there's anyone else waiting in the wings to try to help out, remind them that I can do lots of damage to her before they can even get a shot off. I'm not as committed to keeping Rachel alive as Livingston is. If necessary, I can kill her and Esterman myself, and that way cut out the middle men. By the way, you and Rachel are the middlemen, in case you haven't figured that out already."
He was right. But not for long. One way or another, Jared would eliminate the threat. Then, he had to make sure Rachel was all right. In the grand scheme of things, Meredith was the disposable one.
"Just go after the baby, Jared," Rachel managed to say. "Save him."
Meredith tightened the chokehold on her neck. "Bad advice. Real bad. If you turn to run, I shoot you. It might be quick and relatively painless, but I can promise you, it won't be nearly as nice and neat for Rachel."
That was enough. It was too big a risk to take. Jared reluctantly placed the rifle on the ground. From the corner of his eye, he saw the helicopter approach. It was definitely going to land on the roof. Once that happened, Livingston could be out of there before they had a chance to stop him.
"Now, step back," Meredith ordered. "I'm going to take Rachel here for a little drive straight to the courthouse. If all goes well, and if she cooperates, I'll release her unharmed. I'll let you find your own way to take care of Clarence."
"Why don't you take me on that trip instead?" Jared suggested. "I make one hell of a hostage."
Meredith smiled. "Yeah. I'll bet you would, but I prefer Rachel. She's half your size and a lot less trouble."
And much easier to hurt.
But Jared didn't get a chance to voice that.
Rachel shouted, the sound of rage and fear. Using one of those Shaolin moves, she rammed her elbow into the man's stomach, pivoted and went after him with her fists. Even though Meredith managed to turn, he wasn't as successful at turning his gun toward her.
Jared caught Rachel and shoved her aside. That didn't deter Meredith. He spun toward Jared.
His gun aimed.
Ready to fire.
Jared had only a split second to react.
He dove for Meredith's feet. Rachel went after him again, as well. Together they knocked Meredith to the ground, and Jared grabbed the gun from his hand.
Jared didn't have time to go back for the fishing line so he could tie up the man. But what now? He didn't want to take Meredith back inside, not where he could continue to be a threat.
With such limited choices, Jared rummaged through Meredith's pocket and found what he was looking for—a pair of thin plastic cuffs. Standard cop issue. But just one pair. Still, it would have to do. Jared clamped one side onto Meredith's wrist, and hauled him to one of the thick shrubs and handcuffed him in place.
When Jared was sure Meredith was sufficiently restrained, he turned to Rachel. "Let's go," he shouted over the noise of the helicopter. "We need to get to the roof."
They sprinted to the house. Jared didn't want them to be out in the open any longer than necessary. Besides, every second counted. If Livingston left with the baby, they might never find him.
Trying to keep watch around them, they hurried up the stairs. Both flights. And came to a narrow door that led to the roof.
The noise from the helicopter stopped. Maybe the pilot had turned off the engine so they could get the baby inside. Or maybe the baby wasn't up there at all.
God knows what he would face on the other side, but since he didn't have a choice, Jared moved Rachel behind him. He took a deep breath and kicked open the door.
He got a glimpse, just a glimpse of Agnes holding the baby. And of Livingston.
Before the bullet slammed into Jared's right shoulder.
* * *
RACHEL SCREAMED AND tried to catch Jared so he wouldn't fall.
She wasn't successful.
Livingston was there. Right there. He grabbed her and slung her out of the way. Rachel landed against the wall, and Jared fell just inside the door. So did his gun. Livingston kicked it across the floor.
Rachel came up fighting. For all the good it did her. Livingston merely smiled and aimed the gun at the baby. Both the gun and his murderous expression stopped her in her tracks. She would risk her life without thinking twice, but she couldn't risk the baby's.
"Jared, are you all right?" she asked. She held her breath.
"I'm fine."
But he wasn't. There was a bright red stain making its way across his shirt. She prayed the bullet hadn't hit an artery or a major organ. If so, she didn't stand much of a chance of getting him to the hospital in time. She could lose him. Dear God, she could lose him.
The pilot stepped from the helicopter and aimed an accusing finger at Livingston. "You said no one would get hurt—"
Livingston was quick. He turned and fired two shots—both hit the man in the chest. Then he calmly aimed the gun back at the baby.
Rachel glanced at the pilot. If he was still alive, he wouldn't be for long. She wanted to beg Livingston to call an ambulance for Jared and the other man, but it wouldn't do any good. She could see it in his eyes. If Jared died, Livingston would just make other arrangements to deal with his partner.
In his mind, Jared was expendable.
So was the baby.
So Rachel tried a different approach. There was no icy sneer on Agnes's face. She was scared, volleying wide-eyed glances between Livingston and the pilot. Maybe that fear was a weakness Rachel could exploit.
"Agnes, you can't let Livingston get away with this. It isn't right. That's my son you're holding. Do something to stop all of this."
The woman frantically shook her head and backed up a step. "I can't. I can't stop anything."
Jared moved. Just a fraction. Still clutching his shoulder, he leaned closer to Livingston.
Rachel almost called out for him to stop. But she knew in her heart that Jared felt the same way she did. They had to do whatever it took to save their child.
In this case, that meant a distraction, whatever the risk.
"I'll go with you now," Rachel told Livingston.
It was a lie. But it worked. Well, at least it got his attention.
Livingston eased the gun away from the baby. And smiled. The smile quickly faded, however, when Jared grabbed his leg. He managed to knock Livingston off balance, sending the man to the floor.
Jared didn't stop there. Despite his injuries, he dove at him. There was a clash of bodies. Muscle slamming against muscle. Livingston somehow managed to hold onto his weapon and do some other damage. Jared grunted in pain when Livingston landed a punch to his wounded shoulder.
Rachel lurched toward them to help Jared. However, she wasn't fast enough. Livingston threw Jared off him and against the doorjamb.
"No!" Rachel yelled.
Jared groaned in pain but went after the man again. He wouldn't stop. Not until one of them was dead.
Rachel heard a
sound and snapped her head toward it. Agnes had kicked Jared's gun her way, and it skittered across the floor and stopped at her feet. The woman had decided to help them, after all.
All Rachel had to do was pick it up.
She sank to her knees and forced her hand to move toward it. But the pitch-black tunnel that her mind created closed around her, narrowing her vision so that all she could see was the gun.
Not Livingston's gun. But the one that had killed her parents.
Livingston shoved Jared aside, slamming him full force into the helicopter. There was no way Jared could get to him in time if Livingston decided to shoot him again.
And Rachel was sure Livingston would do just that.
If she didn't act now, he'd kill Jared.
"You can't do it, can you," Livingston taunted. While he held the gun on Jared, he chuckled. "Clarence told me all about your little problem. Too bad."
She clamped her teeth over her bottom lip to stop it from trembling. Nothing could stop the feeling of terror. Absolute terror. After everything she'd done to keep it away, the nightmare had returned.
And here she was, right in the middle of it.
Focus, she heard Jared say. But he hadn't spoken. Rachel heard the reminder from deep within her heart. Focus. Yes, that's exactly what she had to do.
Livingston got up from the floor. Not easily. Obviously the blows from Jared had shaken him. But not enough. He still had his weapon, and, dismissing her, he turned toward Jared.
"Don't you dare shoot him," Rachel warned, her voice a whisper.
Livingston tossed her a carefree smile. "What—do you plan to stop me?"
She nodded.
Just nodded.
Livingston stared at her. A challenge. While he took aim at Jared.
Something slammed through her. Not fear. Nor the turmoil of childhood trauma. Rachel had never felt more in control in her life. She reached down. Her fingers closed around the gun.
She lifted the weapon and turned it on Livingston.
He laughed. And she heard in that laughter what he planned to do—kill Jared.
"You won't stop me," he assured her.
Rachel shook her head. "You are so wrong."
Without taking her gaze from his, she aimed low. Curved her finger around the trigger. And squeezed.
Confiscated Conception Page 15
