Hill Country Holdup

by Angi Morgan

  “Well, yeah, I might have suggested a thing or two. Like adding a small airstrip.” A knot formed in his throat. It was hard to swallow and getting worse with everything Jane confirmed. “She added one last spring.”

  He didn’t like the idea that FBI Agent Selena Stubblefield had a sick love for him. He liked it even less that he’d completely missed it. Some agent.

  “If Stubblefield does have a plane, they’ll be leaving as soon as the weather lets up. Fly out low, keep it under the radar…”

  “You think she’s leaving the country with Rory. That’s why you wouldn’t wait for help.”

  “Great, the Guadalupe River,” he said with relief. Now the conversation could concentrate on Rory’s rescue. “We should be getting close.”

  His memory was foggy, but within the next half mile he turned left on a road that would lead them to Stubblefield’s ranch. They crossed the bridge over a swollen creek. There wasn’t a good place to leave the truck. A steep dropoff on either side of the gravel forced him to park on the cow path.

  “You wanted a plan,” he said. “I think I have one, but you aren’t going to like it.”

  “If it involves us splitting up, then no, I’m not going to like it.” Her mouth was set in a stubborn line.

  “Our ultimate goal is one thing. To get Rory back. Period. Whatever it takes.”

  “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

  He gripped her slender hands securely in his own, wanting to protect her—yet knowing he had to let her help. “I know you’re strong enough. Do you?”

  A tentative, then steady nod of her head told him she believed in herself. She had been right before. It probably would be the heroine coming in and saving the hero’s butt at the last minute.

  “It’s time to actually use some of that extensive government training I’ve received. Unfortunately, Stubblefield knows all my moves. Even the unauthorized ones.”

  “So how can we use that to our advantage?”

  A ROCK DUG INTO STEVE’S kneecap as he shifted position at the top of a hill near Stubblefield’s ranch house. He smothered the curse that came with the sharp pang.

  “Is there any cell reception?” he asked.

  Jane pulled the cell from her windbreaker pocket. “Nothing. Your team will find the ranch. You said they’d be here as soon as the weather allowed the helicopters to take off. Right?”

  “This Glock has a safety trigger. It’s a bit different than the Beretta I showed you before.”

  Steve spoke softly, close to Jane’s ear, taking in the musky smell of her in spite of the ever-present rain. He wanted to hold her, hide her and keep her safe. But it wasn’t an option. The only way to get Rory back was if they worked together. They both had jobs to do. He just hoped they both came out of this thing alive.

  “You can only release the safety with your trigger finger. It automatically reengages after you fire.”

  “That doesn’t sound like much of a safety to me.” Jane took the pistol and shoved it deep into her jacket pocket.

  “Just be prepared to fire if you aim it at someone.”

  They’d barely made it across Wasp Creek. It was rising fast behind them as it sped toward the Guadalupe. They were in a grove of mesquite, the old twigs crunched under their feet with each step toward the top of the rise. The house was about a quarter of a mile away.

  “It’s lit up like a light bulb factory.”

  “I don’t see anyone passing in front of the windows. Do you think they’re expecting us?”

  “I think—” he pulled her back where they couldn’t be seen “—that Stubblefield didn’t know for certain if we would find her. All the extra lighting is just to make it more difficult in case we did. That’s Stubblefield’s black Jeep Cherokee under the carport.”

  “I’ll get inside.”

  “She’s installed a lot of extra lighting around the perimeter. You could hold a night rodeo out there in the corral.” His gut churned again. He had a bad feeling that he was expected.

  “You know she’s not going to believe I’m dead without proof. You could go back, get the truck and put me in the back—”

  “You wouldn’t do Rory any good playing dead. You need to find him and get him safely away. I’ll convince Stubblefield.” He looked deep into Jane’s eyes, desperately wanting to know why she hadn’t told him about Rory from the beginning. “Start walking as soon as I leave. I’ll get her out and away from the house so you can get in. Don’t forget the car keys if you come across—”

  “Steve,” she interrupted with a huge smile, her eyes darting back and forth to look at each of his. “Even though you didn’t write them down, I’ve got total recall. I can remember your instructions.”

  “Yeah, I bet you can.” He smiled back. Glad she could laugh. But this was serious. She needed to be careful or she could get killed. “Just remember your objective is to get Rory out alive. Don’t think about me. Don’t take any chances. Just get him away from here.”

  Fear. He saw it in her eyes, felt it in his gut. But his own reaction wasn’t fear for himself. This felt right. They were in control. They had a plan. He had to believe it would work. Their lips seemed to come together on their own. He hadn’t consciously leaned down to meet her. Had he?

  Her mouth was soft and gentle and wet. She tasted like the hot canned orange drink they’d found rolling in the floorboard of the truck.

  Their passion was fueled by the desperation of a goodbye kiss. One that said more than words. A kiss that said they may never see each other again.

  “Jane,” he squeezed in, between deep, powerful kisses. “We have to go.”

  “I know,” she answered before securing his lips in another long, eager liplock. She slowly backed away.

  “Before you go, I need to…I need to tell you—”

  He stilled her lips with his fingers. “Not now. I need to tell you, too. But not now. Not like this.”

  It gave him hope for the future that she couldn’t let him leave without saying “I love you.” But he wanted more than hurried words before he ran off into danger. Although he hadn’t let himself admit it, he’d known he’d loved her from the moment he’d seen her. Jane was his.

  Now he was certain he hadn’t lost her. And he should tell her. Right?

  A tear raced down her cheek. He caught it with the tip of his finger.

  “Stay out of sight and remember your objective.” God, he wanted to reassure her. Swear that they’d rush in, steal Rory back and no one would get hurt. But she’d know it was a lie. “Promise me, Janie. No matter what else happens. Think of Rory first.”

  “I promise.”

  They held hands as their eyes said goodbye. Their fingertips were the last parts of them to touch before he ran from the grove.

  He sped off through the mud and brush to the main gravel road heading toward the house. He wouldn’t look back or give any indication that Jane was there. Someone might be watching. Shoot, he didn’t know what kind of gear Stubblefield had. She might have night-vision goggles for all he knew.

  House, barn, airplane hangar, storage shed, detached garage. Too many variables. No immediate backup. George and the team were on their way, but he didn’t know how long the weather would keep them grounded. He searched for his target, Selena Stubblefield. No movement.

  No more time for thinking. He was in front of the two-story house. Nothing. No one came out from hiding to confront him. The rain finally stopped and the night was silent before the horses whinnied in the corral.

  A PERSON IN A YELLOW rain slicker stood on the porch and joined Steve. Even from a distance, Jane could see the loathing on Steve’s face. It had to be Stubblefield.

  She slapped her pocket, thankful to find the solid weight of the pistol. Did Steve need her help? Should she get close enough to hear the conversation between him and their son’s kidnapper?

  Breathe in. Breathe out. In. Out. Taking even breaths again, she crept in the dark, just at the edge of light.

  Promise m
e, Janie. Think of Rory first.

  Jane crawled and hid behind fence posts, expecting Selena’s accomplices to jump out from the gloom and grab her. No one appeared on the horizon or in the windows of the house. Selena seemed to be alone.

  IT WASN’T A MIRAGE. Flesh and blood stood behind Steve as he turned to face her. His colleague. His son’s kidnapper and a murderer. He took a step toward her, regaining his train of thought. Thoughts that needed to tread carefully around this psycho.

  “Where’s Rory?”

  With the same evil smile he’d seen on too many men he’d put behind bars, she said, “Safe. For now.”

  The pent-up breath he’d been holding broke free from his lungs. Relief punched through his senses as he wiped the cold sweat from his forehead.

  “I was beginning to think I’d have to leave without you, Steve, darling.”

  “It took me a while to remember how to get here.” He moved his arm behind him, ready to pull his weapon.

  “You are such a funny man, Steve. I think that’s why I married you.”

  Married? She was sicker than they’d thought.

  Stubblefield had flipped. She was as delusional as Jane had believed. Maybe more so. He should have let Jane explain further about that alternate world some people lived in. Stubblefield stood before him perfect and smiling, seeming to ignore everything around them while hiding the whereabouts of his son. They could have been having a conversation at the dinner table for all the reaction she demonstrated.

  “You know me, always the kidder.” Was that Jane’s silhouette moving through the field?

  “We better finish packing.” Selena turned and headed in the direction of the house.

  “Right.” He clenched his gun handle. “We wouldn’t want to get a late—”

  “Bastard!” Selena spun and fired.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jane heard a car backfire. No, this wasn’t the city. They were in the middle of nowhere. Steve was visible under the lights near the barn. She looked up just in time to see him crumple to the ground.

  Dear God. Stubblefield had shot him.

  Jane clamped her hand over her mouth to keep the fury and horror from bursting out. She fell to her knees, wondering what wild hare had ever convinced her she could help Steve or Rory. She should have listened when he tried to convince her to wait for the FBI.

  Is this nightmare ever going to end? Is this one woman capable of killing everyone I love?

  She loved Steve. Even when logic told her she shouldn’t. They were doing the best they could. I guess this was where a leap of faith was required. She’d loved him four years ago, had created a beautiful baby with him and she loved him now. No matter what happened, she would love Steve Woods for the rest of her life.

  Standing, she took the gun from her pocket, and fought tears of anguish burning her eyes. One step, then two. She’d capture the murderer and wait for the FBI to find Fensalir Ranch. And if Selena so much as twitched, Jane would kill her.

  Miracles of miracles… Steve moved. She pushed past a prickly shrub, gun aimed at Selena. He raised his hand, signaling her to stop before placing it on his left shoulder.

  Promise me, Janie. Think of Rory first.

  Part of Steve’s plan was to talk Selena into disclosing Rory’s location. Jane ran behind the house, and stopped to catch her breath, careful not to alert anyone who might still be inside.

  God help me, where could Selena have hidden a toddler?

  It was the middle of the night and Rory could be anywhere.

  STEVE COULD BREATHE, SEE, and still feel every hurt in his body.

  There was pain in the back of his head, but that was from the fall. Not from a bullet between his eyes. Selena was a crack shot and without a doubt could have given him an extra nostril if she’d wanted.

  He did have a hole in his shirt and a bit of blood from the bullet grazing his arm.

  Son of a bitch, she’d shot him and he hadn’t even seen the gun. He’d thought he was in control of the situation. At least his gun was still in his jeans, but he couldn’t shoot Stubblefield. She was his only lead to find Rory.

  “Where’s Dr. Palmer?” Selena asked.

  “What?” He hoped Jane had seen his signal that he was all right. He didn’t dare look in her direction, not while Stubblefield was asking about her.

  Without making any sudden moves, Steve pressed his shirtsleeve into the scrape to stop the bleeding. At least it was his left arm.

  “Don’t play dumb with me, Steve.” She walked toward him, bringing the Glock almost within the reach of his leg, but not quite. “Where’s Jane Palmer?”

  “Dead. The men you hired killed her. Then I killed them.” He sat up and his head swam. A bit of nausea and dizziness kept him planted while Stubblefield stalked like a big cat waiting for the final kill.

  “Why should I believe you?” She continued to circle. “You wouldn’t tell me if your whore were waiting for you.”

  “Where’s Rory?”

  “I told you he was safe.”

  “Why should I believe you?” he asked, stalling for time. Think. What was she after? Why had she missed?

  She paused and aimed the gun straight at his chest.

  “I shouldn’t believe you, but I do,” he said quickly. “I know you wouldn’t hurt Rory. You love…ah…our son.”

  He made it to one knee. He didn’t think he’d hurl if he stood up, but he stayed where he was. The last thing he needed was for Stubblefield to knock him back down.

  “Do you think I can see him? You know I’ve been away for a while.” God, he hoped he could guess how to play along with the fantasy. He’d never done the repentant husband thing before. “I promise I, uh, that I won’t… Well, you know. Never again.”

  Stubblefield relaxed her arm at her side, taking her finger off the trigger. “Just remember that if you do, I won’t be waiting at home for you next time. You’ll never see your son again. Let’s go.”

  He played with the idea of letting the horses out, then he saw Jane run from the house, heading for the well-lit barn.

  “Can we rest a minute, Selena?” He cupped his shoulder and grimaced, trying to make her think he was worse off than he was. “I’m, ah, getting a little tired.”

  Just as he’d hoped, Stubblefield turned toward him and missed Jane’s final dash to the far side of the barn.

  “You really shouldn’t push yourself so hard, Steve darling. Between the Bureau and the ranch work,” she said. “You’re hardly ever here for Rory.”

  The witch acted as if she’d forgotten she’d shot him. Let her forget. It was to their advantage if Stubblefield forgot everything.

  “He wouldn’t know what his father looked like if it weren’t for the picture by his bed.”

  That was why there weren’t any pictures in Jane’s apartment. She’d taken them all along with Rory’s things to make Jane look crazy. God, they never stood a chance against Stubblefield.

  Would another question concerning Rory’s whereabouts bring her back to reality? Or just piss her off? He slowly worked his left arm to make sure he could still use it. The wound felt tight, so he kept moving it, kept clenching his fist. Kept getting angrier with each wave of pain.

  Where is Rory! he wanted to yell.

  Stubblefield stared at him. An indescribable force seemed to be fighting behind her eyes while he watched the whites of her eyes grow in size. Her hand inched its way out of the raincoat’s pocket.

  He wouldn’t just stand there and let her shoot him again. But she would before he could cross the distance and disarm her. And this time he would get that third nostril located right between his eyes.

  He made a dash to the barn. Stubblefield fired her weapon, hitting the door as he dove to the ground.

  JANE HAD SEARCHED an empty house and now an empty barn. Where else could she look?

  No sound. No Rory.

  Shots hit the door as Steve kicked it shut behind him. Blood saturated a portion of his left arm as he searched f
or something to slow Stubblefield down.

  “Stubblefield’s as crazy as you thought. There’s no door latch. We need to get that gun away from her.” He spoke in a loud whisper, heaved air into his lungs, and pointed toward her left. “Hide and come out when she’s got her back to you. Quick!”

  Scared to death, she ducked behind the tack room door. Pieces of broken bridles and lead ropes hung above her head. The smell of leather was strong in the small area. Without a handle, she was unable to close the door completely, allowing her to see part of the main room.

  “Steve!” Stubblefield’s voice called wildly.

  Even muted through the wood, Jane could tell the woman was on the edge of losing it.

  “I thought I heard something,” Steve lied. Jane had seen his eyes. He’d been worried Selena would find her. Seen the desperation and uncertainty.

  Believe him, you murderer! But Stubblefield wouldn’t. Jane knew she wouldn’t. Selena’s two personalities were at war with each other. Faltering between the fantasy where Steve and Rory were hers and reality where she knew why he was truly here.

  “You heard that whore!” Stubblefield’s voice grew closer and more furious. “She followed you home.”

  The door hinges to the tack room squealed a short rusty song.

  “It was more like ah…a bobcat.” Steve was close, too.

  A shadow passed in front of the door, but she couldn’t tell whether it was him or Stubblefield.

  “I thought it might be what’s scarin’ the horses. Is my shotgun in the house?”

  Oh, God, Steve. Don’t ask her questions. Don’t make her think.

  Jane couldn’t hide any longer. In order to find Rory, they had to subdue Stubblefield. The woman’s back was to her. This was her chance. She inched the door open without making a sound.

  STEVE SHOOK HIS HEAD, trying to ward off Jane. But his movement only clued the crazy woman to step aside and look directly at Jane. Predictably, she turned and pointed her weapon. Jane dropped to the floor.

  Steve kicked the underside of Selena’s arm with every bit of strength he had left. He forced the gun from her fingers and saw it land well out of reach near the wall.