by Angi Morgan
But it felt good. As if a piece of him had been missing and he hadn’t known it. Then suddenly his puzzle was complete and wham! He was sunk and would never be the same again.
“That’s you, kid. You’re one of my missing pieces. And your mom’s the other.” He gently mussed Rory’s damp hair.
“There’s still no cell coverage,” Jane said as she got into the Jeep.
“Let’s go to the house and I’ll see if I can reconnect the phone.” He cupped her cheek and she rested her head there for a moment.
She hugged Rory and placed several kisses on his face. “You don’t suppose she has a Jet Ski handy to ford that creek, do you?”
“In a big hurry to leave?” Steve tried to joke, but one look at Jane’s face told him how serious she was.
“That house is…creepy.” She hugged Rory closer. “I think I’d rather wait for you in the car.”
“I’ll see if I can get the phone working and verify that the team is on the way.” He pulled under the carport and left the engine running to keep them warm. “You stay here while I check out the house. I want to make sure there aren’t any more surprises.”
“I’ve already been inside, Steve. No one was there.”
“Let me check it out.” After squishing his wet socks back into his boots, he pushed the auto-lock and shut the door before she could argue anymore. His boots would never be the same.
The door wasn’t shut all the way so he pushed it open, hesitating when it hit the cabinets. He had no reason to think Selena was working with someone. He was just tired and a little spooked because Jane thought the house was creepy.
Hired guns, forged documents, murder. Selena could handle all that and more. What was it that Jane had said about schizophrenics? They were usually brilliant people while they kept their worlds separate. It was only when those worlds collided that they had problems.
He mounted the stairs and checked out the upper floor. Each room had the pictures that came with the frame, but the faces had been changed. Seeing his face in a wedding photo with Stubblefield made him gag a little. Seeing a fake birth certificate with Stubblefield’s name on it had turned his stomach.
Understanding perfectly why Jane had felt creeped out, he headed back downstairs. Two more rooms, then he could check on the telephone.
The living room was straight from a home design magazine. He lifted a picture of the woman he’d trusted as a partner. More craziness. He pulled Selena’s face from the glass and let it fall to the carpet. The true picture was of a beautiful smiling and very pregnant Jane.
Sick. Stubblefield was—had been—very sick.
He picked up the smaller photo of… The vase in front of him shattered, and the overhead lights went out.
“What the…?” He turned just in time to see an arm pointing a pistol at him as he dove for cover near the window. He tipped the coffee table to its side, pulled the 9 mm from his waistband and returned a couple of shots.
“I don’t know what trouble you’re in, man. But killing me ain’t the way to get rid of it.”
“Oh, but it is, Agent Woods. One should never trust a crazy woman to follow through on her word,” the man sneered and popped two more rounds in Steve’s direction. “First you, then Jane.”
Steve threw some odd metal art object through the windowpane, but would probably get shot if he attempted to leave the room that way. “Selena’s dead, man. And I don’t have any beef with you.”
“I surmised as much about Agent Stubblefield. And your beef with me, Woods, is the simple fact that you are not dead. Yet.”
The next shot was closer. Steve was pinned down between the couch and table. Nowhere to go. “Not dead?”
The man’s shots were getting too close for comfort. The wood of the table wasn’t going to be much of a barrier for long.
“Yes, you need to be dead. That is the general conclusion one should make when someone is shooting at you.” The man’s voice was cultured, eastern seaboard and condescending.
“Who are you, man?”
“You want me to disclose all, Agent Woods? First tell me where you left Jane and Rory.”
Where had he left… So the guy hadn’t seen them drive up. At least they were okay.
“Naw, this is a one-for-one exchange, man. You know who I am. It’s only fair you tell me who you are.” Steve fired two rounds, shattering a picture on the wall behind the shooter’s position. Then he pulled the table closer to the couch and barricaded himself a bit more.
“I’m surprised you haven’t already taken a wild guess,” the gunman said safely from the hallway.
“Okay, if you won’t admit who you are, you could at least tell me why you want us dead.”
The guy pumped six or seven rounds at the table—the last two ripped through and hit Steve’s previous position. This guy knew what he was doing with a gun and had him pinned. He checked his clip.
Four more.
Steve waited for him to fire again, leaping over the table a split second after the last shot hit the wall behind him. He fired twice while running. Four-letter words shouted through his brain as he rolled through the doorway on his left shoulder. But he’d made it across the hallway to the kitchen without being hit by the man’s rapid fire.
“I’m afraid it’s time to end this game, Agent Woods,” the man called from the hall as Steve ran for the back door.
No harm in retreating.
Sure enough, the Jeep was empty of both Jane and keys. Steve zigzagged as fast as he could while firing the last of his ammo at his unknown assassin. He headed straight to the barn where Stubblefield’s weapon had fallen.
He pulled the door open and faced a gun barrel.
“My God, Steve.” Jane lowered the pistol and backed into the barn. “I saw you turn lights on upstairs, then a shadow passed the kitchen window. When the shooting began, I ran out here for the gun.” She reached for his wound, but he didn’t have time to think about it. “Are you all right? Your shoulder’s bleeding again.”
Jane released the Glock into Steve’s grip. He immediately went to the door and looked toward the house. No one in sight.
“Is Rory safe?” he asked in an exhausted whisper and she nodded. “Did you get a look at this guy?”
“No, she didn’t, Agent Woods.”
The man chasing him had used the corral entrance to the barn. In his mid-forties, his medium build still looked in excellent physical condition. In Steve’s present shape, he’d have a difficult time going head to head with him.
“Hayden?” Jane turned and couldn’t believe her eyes. This was her friend holding a gun on them. “What are you doing?”
“Realizing a dream, my dear.” He motioned at Steve, who promptly dropped his weapon and tossed it slightly to her right. “Now if you don’t mind placing your hands where I can see them and telling me where Rory is? It wouldn’t do for him not to be included in this little reunion.”
“You want the serum,” she said, disgusted. He’d called it her unrealized dream. Had encouraged her on several occasions to sell out to the highest bidder. “You worked with Selena? How?”
“You didn’t really believe that woman of below average intelligence was behind a complicated plot, now did you?” Hayden said. “Dear Jane, I’ve already got the serum. The formula was in the hands of its new owners yesterday. And your hands, Agent Woods.” He gestured with the barrel of his gun that he wanted them above Steve’s head.
“Steve can’t lift his arm. He’s been shot,” she said. He was also faking, since he’d used his arm several times. And he was extremely silent. She’d never quite seen the look currently on his face before. Hatred combined with vengeance.
“He’s about to be again.” Hayden laughed.
“Just one thing to satisfy my curiosity, Hughes,” Steve said. “How did you hook up with Stubblefield?”
“Selena approached me several months ago after performing a background check on Jane. Her obsession was so obvious. She needed money to finance her r
omantic delusions. I needed her delusions to obtain the formula and Rory.” He spat his words at her. “I never imagined you were so naive, Jane. Your formula is worth millions. And the possibilities with a gifted child like Rory are unending. He will be brilliant and I’ll be right there to exploit every thought.”
“I trusted you. You know the dangers of the serum. I even confided in you about Rory. You encouraged me to move back to Dallas to be with Steve.”
“All a part of the plan after you rejected my proposal. I would have been a good father figure.”
“You wanted control over Rory. I couldn’t let that happen.” He and Selena had been planning the kidnapping and how to frame her for months.
“It should have been easy enough to eliminate you so my control of the formula and Rory would never be questioned,” Hayden clarified. “But that incompetent bitch Stubblefield was too cheap to hire true professionals who would kill you. So now it’s up to me.”
“In my business we call it murder, Hughes. You afraid to say it?” Steve moved between her and Hayden’s gun. He kept his injured arm behind his back. He pointed first toward her and then the gun on the ground.
“How noble. Enough talk.” Anger made the veins in Hayden’s neck bulge. “I can’t waste any more of my time. Where’s Rory?” he shouted and waved the gun barrel in the air.
Steve took a running leap at Hayden and knocked him to the ground. Jane fell on the gun tossed near them. She had to protect Rory and Steve.
Hayden’s gun fired.
She struggled to her feet amidst the empty buckets that had scattered and aimed her gun at Hayden.
He pulled his trigger.
So did she.
Chapter Seventeen
Jane’s wrist throbbed from the recoil, and her ears rang from the blast. But she was still standing. Neither of Hayden’s shots had hit her.
Opening her eyes, she saw the two men lying side by side on the hay-strewn floor. Rory cried from the next room. Hayden moaned and Steve lay motionless. Oh, my God, did I kill him? Or had Hayden changed the direction of his bullet and shot Steve?
Hayden reached for the gun lying near the men’s heads.
“Steve!”
It was amazing Steve could move at all and his exhaustion cost him. Hayden rolled to his feet and kept Steve on the ground with a vicious kick to his ribs.
Steve was on his knees when Hayden booted him in the jaw. Jane heard the collision of heel with flesh. She watched as blood sprayed from Steve’s mouth and he crashed facefirst into the dirt and hay.
Each direction Hayden turned, Jane shifted the barrel of Selena’s gun to follow him. One hand steadied the other’s shaking fingers that wrapped around the now-sweaty steel handle.
If she fired she might hit the wrong man, but she couldn’t stand around and watch Hayden beat Steve to death. As Hayden drew his leg back for another kick aimed at Steve’s stomach, she crashed into him and knocked him to the ground.
“Don’t move!” She scrambled back to her feet and pointed the gun at him.
“You won’t shoot me,” Hayden said while he got up and staggered in her direction.
It was true. Selena had approached her the same crazy way. With that same fanatical gleam in her eyes. Jane had frozen. And then what? Selena had escaped and Rory had almost drowned.
Hayden’s mouth moved, but all Jane could hear was her son’s cries from behind the door. Rory wanting his mommy.
You won’t shoot me, bitch! Selena’s words echoed in her mind.
…do away with you, so now it’s up to me. Hayden had gloated—her friend, colleague and would-be murderer.
“Don’t come any closer, Hayden.”
Steve appeared unconscious, slumped on the ground. She wanted him to roll over and keep Hayden away from her, but she’d hesitated too long before hitting Hayden. Steve lay unmoving and couldn’t save her this time.
“We both know you won’t pull that trigger.”
This man wasn’t her friend. The look in his eyes was deadly. He wanted one thing…to kill them.
“Don’t we?”
The shot went wild—she’d closed her eyes again. But it stopped his advance. Almost too late she realized Hayden had retreated, searching for the other gun and was in close proximity to where it had fallen.
“Shoot!” Steve yelled.
She didn’t take her eyes off Hayden slithering toward the gun like a snake. There was no time. She squeezed the trigger.
Hayden spun and crumpled. The scent of gunpowder was strong and strange mixed with the smell of horses and leather. Hayden’s body fell near Steve’s feet. He lay with his head toward her, his eyes open wide and blood seeping from a hole in his chest.
“Oh, God. I killed him.” Jane let the gun fall from her numb fingers.
“You missed, sweetheart.” Steve tiredly let his head drop to the ground again. “I’m really going to have to teach you how to shoot.”
Hayden’s gun rested on Steve’s stomach. She hadn’t heard him make the last shot. But he’d come to her rescue yet again.
“Go take care of Rory, hon.”
Jane carefully stepped over Hayden’s body and went to the tack room, scooping her son into her arms. “Oh, God, Rory. I’m so sorry. It’s okay, baby.”
Steve sat against the wall. She held Rory close, assuring herself he was fine. That everything was fine. At least for them. She glanced toward Hayden. She had no regrets he was dead.
“No pulse. Leave him. Crime scene,” Steve commanded in short sentences using a stronger voice than his appearance credited.
His shirt was in rags. No longer white and light blue or snapped together. It was a dingy brown with bloodstains and mud streaks—just like his chest. He had a gash on his forearm, held together by duct tape. The gunshot graze was bleeding again.
Swelling and bruising on the right side of his face where Hayden had kicked him emphasized the fresh blood coming from a laceration on his lip. His hair hung limp and was tangled with straw. Scratches outlined his eyes where Selena had used her nails.
Yet, somehow he looked perfect. She’d never been happier to stare at anyone in her life.
“You’re a mess,” she said. “Are you all right?”
“Nothing’s wrong that a week in bed won’t cure. Especially with the right woman lying next to me.” His lopsided smile as he winked at her, captured her heart. “Is Rory okay?”
She nodded, but continued to keep their son’s eyes averted from Hayden’s body. “Can we get out of here?”
“Yeah. Once I can walk.” He grabbed his ribs and inched his way up the wall.
“Are you sure you can make it? Maybe I should get the Jeep and drive you back to the house?” She switched Rory to her right hip and scooted under Steve’s shoulder to give him support.
“I can make it.” Despite his words, Steve kept Jane under his shoulder. It felt right. Even when his hand brushed his son’s warm arm. He mussed Rory’s hair and dared eye contact. “Hey, kiddo.”
His son looked up at him with round, trusting eyes, making him feel ten feet tall. Yeah, a giant of hurt. Shoot, there was no way he’d wimp out now. He could collapse in a chair at the house. Think about lying down at a hospital. And that week of bed rest with Jane and Rory at his side wasn’t such a bad idea.
Jane’s glance lingered a bit too long on Hayden’s body. “He’s not worth your pity,” Steve said. He limped from the barn so she wouldn’t stay, and hoped she wouldn’t think about the betrayal of a man she trusted.
“Why would someone go to such lengths? Selena, yes. I can understand that she was driven by an unfortunate disease.”
“Unfortunate? The psycho kidnapped and drowned your son. She murdered at least one person we know of and you believe it’s understandable because of her ‘unfortunate disease’? What does it take to get you angry?”
She dropped her shoulder supporting him and he nearly fell. No way. He’d said that out loud and not even realized it.
“Just because I
remain calm and don’t freak out at anything that goes wrong, it doesn’t mean I don’t have emotions.” She took more of his weight again and continued to move toward the house. So she controlled herself and wasn’t prone to temper tantrums. He could live with that.
“Hayden I can’t understand,” she continued. “Respect, prestige, wealth—he had everything.” She shook her head, clearly unable to accept her friend’s betrayal. “The formula was only in the beginning stages. There are several like it. I’m at a complete loss who would pay millions for it.”
“We’ll know for certain if he had everything he claimed. Greed does unusual things to people. Something pushed Hayden over the top. If he had all the money he needed like you think, he must have been jealous.” They’d never know for certain what it had been, but Steve had seen the greed and lust in the man’s eyes.
He was too doggone tired to think about it any longer and they still had to wait on the Bureau. That was going to be fun. He’d be lucky if he got suspended without McCaffrey pressing charges. And he couldn’t forget about the missing money either. Someone would take the blame for everything that had gone wrong, and he seemed the most likely candidate.
They were nearly at the house, nearly at a point where they’d have to seriously discuss those “I love yous” stated in the heat of the moment. He hadn’t wanted to tell her like that.
How could he possibly talk to Jane about sharing his uncertain life? The intensity of the past four days might sway her decision. She might feel obligated to stay with him for a while, but he wanted more.
Could they trust each other with forever?
Dawn finally crept over the trees behind them as they reached the back door. The whirling of chopper blades bounced off the sides of the house and barn.
“Great, the cavalry’s finally here,” he said, wincing when he reached for the screen door. All the pain of the evening had caught up with him.
“Do you think they’ll have a medic with them?” she asked, looking at his shoulder. “Is it all right to wait inside?”
