Cal’s eyes darted to the other occupant of the cabin. A hulking, fair-haired man paced the floor, jostling a lethal-looking revolver in his hand. His daughter’s captor strode toward the window, and Cal shrank back, plastering himself to the wall.
A fleshy, scowling face appeared in the pane above Cal. Hatred churned in Cal’s gut. He aimed Libby’s pistol, ready to take a shot then and there. Ready to kill the lowlife who’d dared to touch his daughter. The scum who’d terrorized Libby, tried to kill her in the elevator.
Cal curled his finger around the trigger and drew a deep breath. He aimed for the cretin’s forehead, right between the eyes.
And hesitated.
Don’t you understand what you’re risking?
Grimacing, Cal let his arm drop to his side. Sure, he could kill the dirtbag. But then what? Spend the rest of his life in prison for murder?
He’d lost too much the last time he let his frustration and rage guide his actions. When he’d taken his wrath for his mother’s abuse out on David Ralston two years ago.
Ralston’s face flashed in his mind, at first smug, and later battered by Cal’s fists.
And that image merged with the glowering face in the window.
Cal’s heart tripped.
The images were the same. The man holding his daughter hostage was the same man he’d pulled off a woman in a bar two years before and beaten.
David Ralston.
But why? What did the man have to gain by taking Ally? Stalking Libby?
Cal’s mouth went dry. Revenge? Libby had said she’d gone after Ralston with both barrels when she prosecuted him for his assault on the woman at the bar. Was that what this was about?
Ralston stepped back from the window and barked something at Ally that made her whimper.
Cal heard the thump of footsteps as the man stomped across the cabin’s wood-plank floor. Fresh claws of anger slashed through Cal.
Time to act. Time to get Ally out of there. Time to put this man’s days of terrorizing women and children to an end.
Get low and go.
Following the firefighter’s strategy for entering a burning building, Cal moved toward the front door.
Leading with Libby’s gun, he kicked open the front door and swung inside. “Freeze, you scum!”
Ralston spun. Raised his revolver.
“Daddy!” Ally sprang from the bed and charged toward Cal.
“Ally, no!” He motioned frantically for her to stay put, stay out of the line of fire.
Ralston snaked an arm around Ally’s waist as she scampered past. He hauled her close and pressed the end of his gun to Ally’s head.
Icy horror slammed into Cal, stealing his breath.
No! No, no, no, no! Damn it, what had he done?
Why had he charged in without thinking through all the repercussions? His rash reactionism may have cost Ally her life.
“Checkmate,” Ralston growled.
Chapter 17
Libby peered into the darkness, scanning the side of the highway for the turnoff to Stan’s cabin. Anxiety beat a panicked rhythm in her chest.
Please, please let her get there in time!
When she spotted the narrow gravel driveway, she eased off the main road and followed the black tunnel through the dense woods. She found Cal’s truck, driver’s door still open, and tensed.
Where were the police? Why hadn’t the local sheriff arrived yet?
Impatience fluttered in her throat, kicking up her pulse. Clearly Cal hadn’t waited for help to arrive.
Damn it!
Parking behind Cal’s truck, she climbed from her Camry and scanned the night-shrouded forest.
Stan had bought this cabin because of the privacy of the thick woods. Now Libby cursed the isolation, the miles that separated her from civilization. From help. From a hospital.
Shivering, Libby refused to consider the possibility Cal or Ally could need medical help. She started toward the cabin, where the windows glowed with a dim yellow light. As she stumbled over the roots and rocks in her path, she took her can of pepper spray off her key chain and readied the vial for use. Slipping the can in her slacks pocket, she jogged across the cabin lawn.
The murmur of voices stopped her at the foot of the wooden porch steps.
“Let her go!” Cal said, fear and anger thick in his taut tone.
“I don’t think so,” another male voice chortled.
Libby heard a plaintive whimper that wrenched inside her.
Ally. The sweet little girl was an innocent in this nightmare. Libby bit her bottom lip to keep from crying herself. She had to stay in control long enough to help Ally. Help Cal.
“Listen, Ralston, I don’t know what your game is, but my daughter has nothing to do with it. Please…let her go.”
Ralston?
Libby muffled a gasp. David Ralston had been stalking her all this time?
“The girl means nothing to me. Except as a means to an end,” Ralston said.
Reaching in her pocket, Libby grabbed the pepper spray. And wavered. The spray was only effective if she could get close, had a direct shot at her opponent’s eyes.
As quietly as she could, Libby climbed the stairs, hoping to assess the situation through the door that gaped open.
“Where’s the woman?” Ralston asked.
You, Libby. He wants you.
Fear choked her, and she struggled to swallow. To breathe. This was her fight. Her stalker. Her responsibility.
Her fault.
“I told you,” Cal answered. “You can’t have Libby. She’s not here.”
“Then I guess I’ll have to settle for this little thing until you bring me the lawyer.”
Libby balled her fists.
Where were the police?
Edging to the door, she took in the scene inside.
Cal held her gun, aimed at the large blond man across the room. Ralston, in turn, had Ally in his grip, his own gun kissing Ally’s temple.
Libby’s knees buckled. Oh, no!
She sent up a silent prayer. For guidance. For strength. For Ally’s and Cal’s safety.
For the police to arrive before it was too late.
“You harm my girl, and you’ll be dead before you can blink,” Cal snarled.
No! Don’t make him angry! Not while Ally’s at risk! Libby longed to scream.
Why didn’t the cops hurry? What was taking so long?
“You sure about that?” Ralston said, his tone overconfident. The smug sound of a man who had nothing left to lose.
Things were escalating fast. Too fast.
Inside, a gun clicked as it was cocked.
“No!” Cal shouted.
“Wait!” Libby screamed, throwing herself through the door.
Three startled gazes flew to her, but Libby focused on only one—the man holding the life of her stepdaughter at the end of a deadly weapon.
“Libby, get out! What are you doing?” Cal’s panic rang in his voice.
She ignored the urge to look at Cal, even for a second. Holding her hands up, she walked toward Ralston. “It’s me you want. Not Ally. Please. Please, don’t hurt her.”
Confusion and suspicion shifted in Ralston’s eyes. A muscle jumped in the man’s jowl, and he jerked Ally closer. “Is this a trick? I warned you! No tricks, or the girl buys it.”
She heard Cal suck in a sharp breath.
Libby shook her head, took a cautious step forward. “No tricks. Me for the girl. I’m the one you want. But you have to let her go. Unharmed.”
“Libby…” Cal’s voice sounded strangled, hoarse.
“Closer.” Ralston waved the gun, motioning her forward. “You come here, and I let the girl go.”
Libby wiped her sweaty palms on her slacks, eased her hand toward her pocket.
“Keep your hands where I can see ’em!” Ralston said.
Her heart thundering, Libby raised her hands again. She searched her brain for a plan B. She wasn’t good in situations like this. No p
lan, no guidelines, no rules.
She’d have to trust gut instinct.
Fear scampered inside her, a cold sweat beading on her lip. She moved closer to David Ralston on leaden legs. Closer.
She chanced a quick glance at Ally and met the child’s wide, blue gaze, damp eyes, bright with terror yet so full of trust and hope.
And Libby knew why she was doing this. She loved Ally. Cal’s daughter was her priority, too. Her family. A bittersweet pang unfurled in her chest.
“C’mon, lady. Quit stalling.” Ralston waved the gun impatiently and glowered at Libby.
She took the final steps toward her stalker, unwilling to try anything to save herself while Ally was still in his grasp. A grasp Ralston had to release in order to grab Libby’s arm.
Libby’s stomach lurched as Ralston hauled her against his stout chest and trained his gun on her.
“Ally!” Cal spread his arms.
The little girl scrambled across the floor and flung herself into her father’s embrace. “Daddy!”
Cal lifted Ally, hugging her close while his gaze gravitated to Libby’s. Moisture gathered in his eyes as he clutched his daughter to his chest. Relief and gratitude warred with a new, keen anxiety clouding his expression.
Why? his eyes asked.
Libby found her voice. “Get her out of here, Cal. Go!”
He hesitated. “Libby…”
“Go!” she repeated, then mouthed, “I love you.”
Cal jerked as if punched in the gut. His eyes, a brighter shade of blue than she’d ever seen them, held with hers as he edged out the door. His reluctance to leave her wound through her heart, a small comfort that Libby latched on to as Cal left.
Reaching across her chest and keeping Libby’s back pressed tightly to his chest, Ralston dug his fingers into her arm. He yanked Libby backward, dragging her toward the bed. “Looks like it’s just you and me now, Counselor.” The man’s hot breath smelled of onions, alcohol and evil. “Shall we get down to business?”
Yes. Time to get down to business.
Steeling herself with a deep breath, Libby stomped her captor’s instep. Hard. She followed quickly with a backward kick in his kneecap.
Ralston grunted, his grip loosening, and he stumbled back a step. “Ow! Damn bitch, you’ll pay for th—”
Spinning, Libby aimed a roundhouse kick for the hand holding the gun. The weapon flew from Ralston’s grip and skittered across the floor.
Quickly adjusting her stance, she capitalized on Ralston’s brief distraction. A front-snap kick to his groin.
Picture the face of that someone who has really been getting on your nerves this week, and let ’em have it! she heard her kickboxing instructor say.
Ralston raised his head, a stunned, pained expression pinching his face.
Libby zeroed in. Uppercuts. Left, right, left.
Blood spurted from Ralston’s nose. He wobbled.
Charged with adrenaline, Libby landed another roundhouse kick to his kidney.
She had Ralston on the defensive. Had him shaken.
But could she continue to fight him off until help arrived?
Damn it, where were the police?
Cal peeled Ally’s arms from his neck and set her on the front seat of his truck.
She whimpered and fought to climb back into his arms. “No, Daddy! Hold me! Don’t let that man get me!”
His heart wrenched. “Baby, you’re safe here. The police will be here in a minute.” He prayed. “Right now, I have to go help Libby.”
“Daddy!” Her lip trembled.
“Stay here. Understand? Stay right here. Get down on the floor and stay out of sight. Please, kitten. I have to go help Libby now.”
Ally bobbed her head and scrambled to the floorboard.
“Good girl.” Cal blew Ally a kiss and turned to run back to the cabin.
I love you. His mind whirled, tangling around images and emotions. Libby had sacrificed herself for his daughter. The idea humbled him. Terrified him.
Ralston had Libby. Oh, God!
Hang on, Libby. Hang on!
If he’d ever doubted Libby’s priorities, he didn’t now. And he had no doubt he loved Libby. Completely. Deeply. Unconditionally.
The sounds of a struggle echoed from inside the cabin.
“Libby!” The pistol ready, he leaped over the front porch steps and plowed through the front door.
In a stuttering heartbeat, he assessed the situation. Ralston’s battered face. Libby’s attack pose, feet braced, fists up.
And Libby’s startled glance toward the door. Enough time for Ralston to lunge for her, tackle her. Together, Libby and Ralston crashed to the hard floor.
Breath stuck in his throat, Cal watched the twisting, grappling limbs.
Just as Cal moved to pull the man off Libby, Ralston reached for his ankle. Metal flashed as Libby’s attacker raised a hunting knife to her neck.
“Get back!” Ralston screamed.
Cal froze.
Libby’s thrashing caused the tip of the blade to slice her skin at the base of her throat. Crying in pain, she stilled, knowledge of the new threat to her life bright in her eyes.
Holding the pistol between his hands, Cal waited for a clear shot at Ralston. But he couldn’t risk hitting Libby.
Like a horror movie from his past, played out in slow motion, Cal watched Ralston drag Libby to her feet.
The helplessness and rage he’d known discovering his mother’s abuse flooded back tenfold. Ralston’s knife hovered by Libby’s jugular. Drops of crimson seeped from the gash just above Libby’s collarbone, marring the silken skin he’d savored just hours ago.
Fear balled in his gut.
Libby’s chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths. Her frightened gaze found Cal’s.
“Easy, lover boy,” Ralston gloated. “Just a flick of the wrist and your lady is history.”
Sweat trickled from Cal’s forehead and stung his eyes. But he didn’t flinch. Didn’t take his eyes off Ralston for an instant.
He couldn’t risk Libby getting hurt. As much as he hated to admit it, as long as Ralston had that blade pressed against Libby’s neck, the madman had the upper hand.
Libby blinked to clear the blur of tears from her sight. Unless her eyes were playing tricks on her, something blue had flickered in the trees out the window behind Cal. Blue lights.
The police. Finally!
Relief threatened to turn her legs to jelly. But in deference to the sharp knife edge under her chin, she steeled her muscles. She only had to hold on a little longer. Until the police could surround the cabin.
Cal. If the sheriff deputies found him holding the gun on Ralston, they might assume he was the enemy.
The flicker of blue lights disappeared. With any luck, Ralston hadn’t seen the evidence of the arriving law enforcement.
Tension quivered through her body. She had to signal Cal without tipping Ralston off to the help that had finally come.
Libby drilled Cal with a hard look. When he met her glare, she shifted her eyes to the window with a slight nod, a subtle lift of her eyebrows.
“If I were you, I’d put the gun down. Nice and easy, pal,” Ralston said, his breath hot against Libby’s ear.
“Do it, Cal. Please. Put the gun down.” She tried once more to signal him, but his focus had returned to the threat of the man behind her. How could she make him understand? “Cal, there are better ways to handle this. Proper channels. Don’t take the law into your hands.”
Cal frowned, his blue gaze darkening to the color of deep water. Fathomless. Troubled.
Ralston jerked suddenly, shifted, craning to look outside.
Damn. He must have spotted the men outside.
Panic clambered inside Libby.
With a grumbled curse, Ralston yanked her around and headed toward the door. He shoved her forward, clearly hoping to make a run. To escape.
“Ralston!” Cal shouted.
“Cal, don’t!” she screamed.<
br />
“Sheriff’s department! Drop the weapon!” came a shout from just beyond the door.
Ralston abandoned her, made a dash for the woods.
A uniformed man pursued and tackled Ralston at the edge of the circle of light spilling from the cabin’s open door.
Turning, Libby watched Cal’s shoulders drop in relief. But not the gun.
“Drop the weapon!” an officer outside repeated. The man’s no-nonsense tone sent shivers skittering up Libby’s back.
“They mean you, Cal.” She barely recognized her own voice. “Put the gun on the floor and step back. Keep your hands where they can see them.”
She knew the moment Cal understood exactly what was happening. She saw the pain, the fear, the defeat, that swirled in his gaze. Slowly, he set her pistol on the floor and straightened, hands up.
Two officers swung through the front door, their own weapons drawn and aimed at Cal. Dread grabbed her lungs and squeezed.
“Are you all right, ma’am? You’re bleeding,” the older of the two men asked.
She nodded stiffly. “Fine. It’s not a deep cut.”
“Put your hands behind your head!” the same officer ordered Cal, then moved forward to handcuff him.
“Libby, tell them who I am.” Cal’s eyes beseeched her. “Tell them I’m not their man.”
“Ma’am?” the younger deputy, named Edison, according to the badge he wore, cast a sideways glance at her.
“The man outside, the one who tried to run, is your main concern. His name is David Ralston, and he kidnapped the little girl outside. You’ll probably find her in the Chevy truck.”
Cal nodded affirmation.
“Her name is Ally,” Libby continued. Her head spun, and her legs quivered in the aftermath of all that had happened. She braced a hand on the wall to support herself.
“And you are?” Deputy Edison asked Libby.
“I’m Assistant District Attorney Libby Hopkins.”
“Walters,” Cal corrected.
“Be quiet,” the older deputy warned. “Let her talk.”
Cal scowled. A muscle in his jaw worked as he clenched his teeth.
“And who is he?” Edison asked, nodding toward Cal.
“Her husband,” Cal said, earning a jerk on the handcuffs.
To Love, Honor and Defend Page 21
