“Bailey... Bailey something. I don’t know the last name. Greg hasn’t mentioned the cabin for a long time. I don’t know if he was just talking a line of bull or not, but I figured I’d better tell somebody about it.”
Dillon joined them at the table and Zeke repeated what he had just told Dusty. “Let me make some calls and see what I can find out,” Dillon said when Zeke had finished.
As Dillon left the table, Dusty and Zeke stood, as well. “Thanks, Zeke,” Dusty said.
Zeke shrugged. “I hope it pans out.”
He left the café and Dustybegan to pace as he waited for Dillon to come up with enough information that they would know exactly where to go.
For the first time since Trisha had disappeared, a modicum of hope jumped into his heart. Was this it? Was this the break they needed to find her?
He was ready to jump in his truck and drive to the tiny town of Rush Springs and beat the bushes and bang on doors, but he knew without more information it would probably be a futile search.
“Got it,” Dillon exclaimed. “Bailey Summers owns a cabin set on ten acres just south of Rush Springs.”
Dusty headed for the door, but stopped as Dillon grabbed his arm. “I’ve got this, Dusty. It’s my job.”
“Yeah, well, she’s my woman and nothing is going to stop me from going to get her.” Dusty wasn’t about to stay here and cool his heels and wait for anyone else to rescue her. He needed to find her.
Dillon released his hold on him and nodded. “Okay, then you ride with me and we do things my way.”
“We’re wasting time.”
“Ben... Michael...follow me,” Dillon said, and then he and Dusty left the café and hurried toward Dillon’s patrol car.
About an hour and a half, that’s how long it would take to get to Rush Springs. Millions of things could happen in that amount of time, Dusty thought. But then again, a million things might have already happened in all the time that Trisha had already been gone.
Once they were on the road, Dusty was grateful that Dillon used his flashing lights to move the traffic aside and let them speed along.
Were they already too late? So much time had already passed. If Zeke hadn’t remembered a random conversation from the past with Greg, they’d still be sitting around the café and wouldn’t have a lead to follow.
Thankfully, Dillon remained silent. Dusty didn’t feel like talking. He was too deep in his own head. Memories of time spent with Trisha haunted him. Thoughts of a motherless Cooper tormented him.
The miles clipped by and with each one the tension in him twisted tighter. If they confronted Greg, would he pull some sick kind of murder/suicide? Was he so obsessed, so mentally deranged that he believed if he and Trisha died together then they would spend eternity together?
Are you smart enough?
Are you strong enough?
The familiar words whispered in his head. He and Dillon and the other men had to be smart enough to get Trisha out of the cabin before Greg could do anything crazy...if he hadn’t already.
“We’re to meet with Rush Springs’ chief of police, Able Grant, when we arrive in town,” Dillon said, breaking the long silence that had reigned between them for the past sixty miles. “He’ll have information about the lay of the land and hopefully the interior of the cabin to give us a better idea of what we might face.”
“I just want to get into that cabin sooner rather than later,” Dusty replied tersely.
“You do realize that it’s possible we’re on a wild goose chase.”
“I refuse to believe that,” Dusty replied. He had to trust that this was right, that within the next half an hour or so he’d hold Trisha in his arms once again. To think otherwise would destroy him.
Twenty minutes later Dillon pulled into a parking space in front of the Rush Springs Police Department. Ben, with Michael in the passenger seat, pulled his patrol car in next to them.
The four of them got out of their vehicles and entered the small brick building. Dusty’s stomach was knotted so tight he felt ill. They were close now. Was this right? Was Trisha really in a cabin owned by Greg’s cousin? Both Greg and Trisha were gone...this was the only thing that finally made sense.
Chief of Police Able Grant was a tall, thin man who greeted them soberly. “The property is heavily wooded and everyone here in town thought the cabin had been abandoned a long time ago. It’s basically a rustic two-room cabin with a bathroom. There’s also a fairly large shed nearby. So, how do you all want to play this?”
“Hopefully, we have the element of surprise on our side and can go in hard and fast,” Dillon said. “The last thing we want is for this to turn into some sort of a hostage situation. We don’t know the true mental state of the perp.”
A hostage situation... The words shot a new fear through Dusty. He couldn’t allow that to happen. The very thought pooled an even worse feeling in his stomach.
“We’re wasting time,” Dusty said. It was already after four in the afternoon and he couldn’t stand the thought of another night without Trisha...without answers. Besides, the darkness might only make things more difficult for everyone involved.
“There are two entrances onto the land,” Able said. “The best approach is going to be from the back entrance. I’ll take you there and we can figure out a game plan once we’re on the property.”
Minutes later Dillon and Dusty were back in Dillon’s car and following Able and another officer in his vehicle. Ben and Michael brought up the rear.
Six men to take down one nut, Dusty thought. Still, the numbers didn’t matter. Ultimately Greg held all the power as long as he had Trisha in his grasp.
They hadn’t gotten far out of the town when Able turned off on a gravel road. Dusty sat forward, straining against the seat belt as he anticipated the potential battle ahead.
The only thing that mattered was getting Trisha out safe. Dusty wouldn’t hesitate to give his own life to assure her safety. She’d survive if something happened to him, but Cooper needed his mother and right now that was really all that was important.
They passed a dirt road on the right and Able pulled to the side of the road just ahead of it. The others parked behind him and got out of the cars.
“The cabin is just up that road on the left. The shed is on the right,” Able said softly. The only other sound was the cheerful trill of birdsongs from the trees and the frantic beat of Dusty’s heart.
He itched to run through the woods and attack the cabin with all the force that he possessed. He wanted to beat Greg Albertson until the man no longer knew his own name. More than anything he wanted to hold Trisha close against him and feel her heart beating against his own.
“Since we don’t know with absolute certainty that Trisha is inside that cabin, use nonlethal force. If she isn’t here, we may still need him to lead us to her,” Dillon said.
“I’ll have Officer Dunhill check out the shed,” Able said.
Dillon nodded. “Michael and Ben, you two remain at the back of the cabin. Able and I will make our way around to the front. Keep covered—we have no idea what kind of weapons he might have, and the last thing we want is for him to see us coming,” Dillon said.
Dusty didn’t wait to hear any more. He took off through the woods, his gun gripped tightly in his hand. If they were wrong and Greg wasn’t here, then he feared that Trisha would be lost forever.
The trees were thick and provided plenty of cover. He darted between them until the cabin came into view. Relief whooshed out of him on a sigh as he recognized Greg’s car parked behind the small wooden structure.
There was no back door and only two windows, one that appeared to be in a bedroom and another small one he could only assume was in the bathroom.
Where was Trisha? Was she still alive? Surely Greg hadn’t gone to all the trouble of
kidnapping her and coming here if his intention was to kill her. Was she someplace inside the cabin or locked up in the shed?
He was vaguely aware of the other men darting from tree to tree around him. Where was Greg? Was he standing at a window and looking outside? Was he anticipating trouble?
Trouble had arrived, Dusty thought grimly as he moved closer to the cabin. The birds had quieted their songs and an unnatural silence filled the air.
He gripped his gun more firmly as he raced from a tree to flatten his body against the cabin just next to the larger of the two windows. If he could just peek inside he would hopefully get a glimpse of Trisha or Greg. He needed to know where the two of them were located in the cabin.
Dillon joined him and Dusty motioned toward the window. Drawing a deep breath, he moved his head enough that he could look inside.
He swallowed his frustration when he realized that the window was boarded up, making it impossible for him to see anything indoors.
He turned to Dillon and shook his head, then indicated with a hand that he was going around the side of the building. Dillon moved in the opposite direction.
Crouching low, Dusty turned around the corner to the front of the cabin. Just to his left was a larger window and beyond that was the front door.
So close now. Staying low, he peeked into the corner of the window. Greg was stretched out on the sofa with his eyes closed and there was no sign of Trisha.
Dusty didn’t wait for instructions. He barely glanced at Dillon, who had appeared at the opposite corner of the place. Dusty crawled past the window and then stood in front of the wooden door that would take him inside..
Holding his breath, he put his hand on the doorknob and slowly twisted. He was shocked to discover that it wasn’t locked. Apparently, Greg was so sure that he wouldn’t be found here he hadn’t bothered to lock it.
That was his last thought as he burst through the door. Instantly Greg leaped up from the sofa and ran toward a nearby doorway. Realizing he couldn’t shoot the man without knowing for sure if Trisha was here, Dusty holstered his gun and threw himself on Greg’s back.
He wrapped an arm around Greg’s throat. Greg roared like an enraged bull and whirled out of the doorway and banged backward into the nearest wall in an attempt to dislodge Dusty.
Pain shot through Dusty at the hard contact with the wall, but he didn’t loosen his hold. He had to take the man down. He had to win—there was no other option.
He tightened his arm, hoping to choke the big man, but once again Greg angrily smashed him against the wall. With a groan Dusty slid off his back.
Greg grabbed Dusty by the front of the shirt and the two men tumbled to the floor. Dusty smashed his fist into Greg’s jaw but couldn’t dodge Greg’s upward thrust that hit him square in the eye.
It was easy for Dusty to ignore the excruciating pain. He’d been born and bred to a world where his body had been broken and abused on a regular basis.
Once again he slammed his fist into Greg’s face, this time hitting him in the nose. Blood spurted out of Greg’s nostrils.
“Dusty!” Dillon’s voice barely penetrated through Dusty’s brain. “Dusty, get off him.”
A scream from the next room fired both certainty and a new rage in Dusty. Greg bucked him to the side and as the two men scrambled to their feet, Dusty pulled his gun.
“Blink an eye and I’ll kill you,” he warned the big man, who was tense and poised to attack.
“Dusty, put your gun down. We’ll take it from here,” Dillon said.
“Pull the trigger,” Greg shouted.
“Dusty...” Dillon’s voice rang out.
“She’s mine,” Greg exclaimed and then laughed. “If you don’t kill me now then I’ll come for her again and again. I’m nothing without her.”
“Dusty!” Trisha yelled from the next room.
A cold calm descended on Dusty, driving back the killing rage. His need to get to Trisha—his love for her was far greater than his desire to put a bullet between Greg’s eyes.
He holstered his gun, and while Dillon and the other men rushed forward, he ran for the doorway toward Trisha.
His desire to shoot Greg once again exploded in him upon seeing Trisha tied to the bed. She gasped his name over and over again, tears coursing down her face as he ran to her side.
“It’s okay now,” he said as he worked frantically to untie her. “I’m here now and you’re safe, Trisha.”
When she was finally freed of the ropes, he gathered her into his arms and picked her up from the bed. She wrapped her arms around his neck and continued to weep against his shoulder as he carried her out of the bedroom.
Greg stood in handcuffs between Dillon and Able. Blood still trickled out of his nose and his eyes still shone with madness. “Trisha, tell them...tell them that you belong to me. We belong together. You’ll see that he isn’t right for you.”
“Put me down,” Trisha said, her voice suddenly strong and sure.
Dusty set her feet on the floor. She walked over to Greg, raised a hand and slapped him hard across the face. Her entire body shook as she faced the man who had taken her from everything, from everyone she loved.
“You could have kept me tied up here for a hundred years and I never would belong to you,” she said passionately. “I belong to Dusty. He’s my destiny and that would have never changed.”
“That’s not true,” Greg protested. “You would have grown to love me, Trisha.”
“Shut up,” Dillon said and then turned to Ben and Michael. “Take him. Get him out of here.”
Once Greg was taken outside, Trisha walked back to Dusty and leaned into him and swiped the last of the tears from her eyes.
“Thank God you found me. He was waiting for me just outside the café.” She turned slightly to look up at Dusty. “I saw you in your truck and when he grabbed me I screamed for you, but I guess you didn’t hear me.”
“We can talk about it all on the ride back to Bitterroot,” Dillon said.
“We’ll do the wrap-up here and I’ll send you a report,” Able added.
Dusty listened absently as the two lawmen talked and Trisha continued to lean against him. She was safe and Greg would be going to prison for a long time.
He had no doubt that she and Cooper had a wonderful future ahead of them, but he also knew with painful clarity that their future wouldn’t include him.
CHAPTER 16
Trisha awoke to late-morning sun drifting through the curtains at the bedroom window. She started to jump up, her first thought of her son, but then she remembered that Cassie had told her the night before that she’d take care of Cooper when he got up this morning.
It had been a long night. On the drive back to town, she had told Dusty and Dillon everything that had transpired between her and Greg. She’d wept and railed as she’d recounted the time from when Greg had grabbed her at the café to when they’d rescued her. Through it all Dusty’s arm had been around her, silently supporting, quietly loving.
Once back in town, she’d insisted Dillon drive her directly to Juanita’s home. She needed her son. She’d needed to feel his little body snuggled with hers. She’d wanted to kiss him a million times to assure herself that they were really both okay.
They’d brought Cooper back to Cassie’s place, where Trisha had tucked the happy little boy into bed.
After that Dillon had continued to question her until the wee hours of the morning. When finally he’d left Cassie’s house, Dusty had gone to his bunkhouse and Trisha had crashed into bed. She’d slept hard and deep without any nightmares to plague her.
She rolled over on her side to face the sun and smiled. The danger was gone and she could fully embrace her future with Dusty. They would find a place to live and eventually get married and hopefully give Cooper a brother or
a sister.
Her heart swelled with the vision of real happiness. In that cabin with Greg, she’d been so afraid that she had no future at all, and now the future stretched out before her with a tantalizing sweet promise.
Suddenly she didn’t want to stay in bed to waste another minute. It took her only minutes to shower and dress in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt and head down the stairs.
Cooper and Cassie were in the kitchen at the table. Cooper was coloring a picture and Cassie had a cup of coffee in front of her.
“Mommy!” Cooper jumped down from the chair and greeted her with a hug around her waist. “Cassie said I should be quiet this morning ’cause you had a long night.” He leaned away from her and looked up. “Did you have a long night?”
“I did.” She picked him up and carried him back to his chair. “But now the sun is shining and I’m here with you and everything is wonderful.”
“Get a cup of coffee, it only makes everything more wonderful,” Cassie said. Trisha laughed and got a cup and then joined them at the table.
“I’m coloring a picture for Dusty,” Cooper said. “You were lost, but I knowed he would find you. Look, it’s a picture of Jupiner.”
Trisha laughed again, not sure whether to correct his grammar or the name of Dusty’s horse. “Has Dusty been by this morning?”
“Not yet,” Cassie replied.
For the next half an hour Cassie and Trisha drank coffee and chatted with Cooper. When he finished with his picture, Cassie found a magnet and hung it on the front of the refrigerator.
“Now when Dusty comes by you’ll know right where it is and you can give it to him,” she said to Cooper. “He’ll be so happy to see it.”
But lunchtime came and went without Dusty coming to the house. Trisha wasn’t so concerned by his lack of an appearance. After all, it had been a late night for him, too, and he had daily chores to get through.
It wasn’t until dinner was over that she began to worry why she hadn’t seen him or heard from him throughout the day. She called his cell phone several times but it immediately went to his voice mail. He hadn’t returned any of her messages.
Harlequin Romantic Suspense March 2016 Box Set Page 20
