by Laura Scott
“Cover them, Colt,” Slade said. “I need to see if he’s alive.”
Chelsey pushed herself upright, her gaze following Duncan’s form as he closed the distance to the plane. After seeing how callously Wolfe had struck one of the men, sending him crashing to the ground, she knew the millionaire wouldn’t hesitate to do the same to Duncan.
Or worse.
* * *
Duncan held his gun in a two-handed grip as he approached the plane. No surprise that the bird sat there, without anyone coming out from the aircraft.
“Wolfe, I know you’re in there,” Duncan called, pressing his back against the plane. “We’ve got your cohorts in custody, so you may as well give yourself up.”
No response from the plane occupants. Duncan knew this wouldn’t be easy. The rich guy inside was accustomed to getting his way.
“Wolfe, the feds are putting you under arrest for assault and battery,” Duncan continued. “Come out with your hands up where I can see them.”
Still nothing. He wished he could hear what the conversation was inside the plane. Was Travis Wolfe trying to find a way to get out of here? There was plenty of wide-open space on the runway, but nothing could be done to fix the damaged plane.
Or did the millionaire know that Duncan didn’t have jurisdiction here in Jackson, Wyoming? He wished he’d thought of asking the US Marshals to deputize him.
The door cracked open. “Don’t shoot—I’m coming out.” Wolfe’s voice didn’t sound as curt as it had before, but Duncan didn’t think the guy was going to give up so easily.
One long leg came out, then the other. The guy jumped to the ground, then spun toward Duncan. In a nanosecond, Duncan saw the gun in his hand and pulled the trigger of his weapon.
The one that had once belonged to the guy Wolfe had struck to the ground.
Duncan ducked but there was no need as the bullet from Wolfe’s gun went wide. Then a shout of rage erupted from Wolfe.
“You shot me!” Wolfe looked shocked that anyone had dared to do such a thing. But the gun he held in his right arm was pointing to the ground now as blood dripped from a wound in his upper right arm.
The arm holding the weapon.
“Put the gun down!” Duncan repeated. “Or I’ll shoot again.”
Wolfe dropped the weapon and then reached up to cover his wound. “I’ll have your badge for this. You shot an innocent man!”
Duncan edged closer until he was able to put his foot on the gun and sweep it beneath the plane. Then he came closer still, looking Wolfe right in the eye.
“The feds are right here, and you’re under arrest for assault and conspiracy to commit murder,” Duncan said. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.” He was about to continue the Miranda warning when he caught movement from the corner of his eye from inside the plane.
Glancing over, he saw the pilot was holding a gun, the muzzle pointed directly at him. Duncan froze.
“Shoot him!” Wolfe screamed. “What are you waiting for? Shoot him!”
The pilot stared at him, and Duncan refused to look away. If the guy was going to shoot, he wanted to see it in his eyes.
But the pilot looked uncertain. Duncan suspected the guy had never shot at anyone before—and hoped and prayed that he wouldn’t do so now.
Stalemate.
Long seconds ticked by, and he believed the pilot couldn’t do it. Dragging his gaze back to Wolfe, Duncan shugged. “Guess that’s not part of the plan, Wolfe.”
“I pay you to do as I say!” Wolfe hissed at the pilot.
In response, the pilot dropped the gun and placed his hands in the air. “I’m not a part of this.”
“Seems killing a man crosses the line.” Duncan gestured at Wolfe with the gun. “Turn around and put your hands up against the plane.”
“Duncan!” Chelsey’s voice rang out from behind him, but he didn’t dare take his gaze off Wolfe.
The millionaire’s eyes widened comically. “What? She’s alive?”
For the first time in what seemed like forever, Duncan smiled. “Yes, she is. And you’re going away for a long time.”
“I don’t think so,” Wolfe sneered. “My lawyers will get me out of this mess.”
Duncan knew his threat wasn’t an idle one. Money talked and the rich often found a way to get out of tight spots. Witnesses were paid off and recanted their stories, for starters.
But not this time. He wasn’t going to recant his testimony and neither would Chelsey.
The US Marshals were witnesses, too.
Wolfe finally turned and put his hands up against the plane. Duncan didn’t have a set of handcuffs on him, so he glanced at Chelsey.
“See if you can find something to tie him up with,” he told her.
Her wide eyes locked on his before she nodded. Before she could head over to Colt and Slade, the pilot tossed out some rope.
“Use this,” he said in a resigned tone. “I should have known this job was too good to be true. The guy pays well, but he’s a massive jerk.”
“Thanks.” Duncan eyed the pilot carefully as he picked up the rope, just in case this was some sort of trick.
“Chelsey, hold the gun on him, will you? And if he moves, shoot.”
Chelsey took the gun, holding it with both hands that indicated to him that this wasn’t the first time.
The pilot jumped to the ground, and there was no sign of the gun. Duncan used the rope to tie Wolfe’s wrists together.
“That hurts,” Wolfe complained. “You shot me, remember?”
“Yeah, because you shot at me, first, remember?” Duncan shook his head in disgust. “Your pilot is a witness.”
The pilot lifted his hands. “Hey, I didn’t really see anything,” he protested. “I’m hired to fly the plane where Mr. Wolfe wants me to, nothing more.”
Great, just great. Wolfe’s lawyers would surely find a way to turn this around on him, but he couldn’t worry about that now.
“Duncan? Need help?” Colt jogged over. “We have the other two cuffed, and the guy in the back of the limo is still out cold.”
“We should notify the local police,” Duncan said.
“Already done. They’ll be here any moment. Can’t you hear the sirens?”
Duncan turned and saw that indeed two police cars were barreling toward them with lights flashing and sirens wailing. He knew Wolfe had an inside man, but it wasn’t likely both sets of officers were involved in this.
It was over. He took a step toward Chelsey and she threw her arms around his neck, hanging on as if her life depended on it.
“I was so scared,” she whispered.
“I know. Me, too.” He clutched her close, then drew back enough to look into her blue eyes. Then, realizing it might be the last time he’d have the chance, he lowered his mouth and kissed her.
She melted against him, but he couldn’t allow himself to read too much into her actions.
Gratitude and friendship weren’t love.
And he couldn’t allow his heart to be broken a second time.
SEVENTEEN
Chelsey reveled in Duncan’s sweet kiss, holding him tightly and unwilling to let him go. His kiss held a note of desperation that matched hers, and she knew they were both thinking along the same lines. That this was it.
The last time they’d see each other.
“Chelsey.” Her name was a mere whisper as he lifted his head, and she ached with longing. In the moment she’d watched Duncan hanging from the plane, she’d realized just how much she loved him.
With a depth that wasn’t a fraction of what she’d felt for Brett. But this wasn’t the time to relive her previous mistakes.
“Duncan, I’m so glad you’re safe.” She blinked tears from her eyes, gazing up at him and memorizi
ng the moment. It was all she’d have to remember him by once she was gone.
“You shouldn’t have come out of hiding, Chelsey.” His tone was gentle, but she saw the worry in his dark gaze. “Now these guys know you’re still alive.”
“Yes, but we have them all in custody anyway, right? So does it really matter? They’ll all go to jail for this, won’t they?”
He hesitated in a way that sent a frisson of alarm skittering through her. “You have to know that Wolfe is going to hire heavy hitter lawyers. If there’s a way to get him off, they’ll find it.”
“But we have a lot of witnesses on our side.” Chelsey didn’t want to believe any of these men would get away with what they’d done. Killing Roland Perry, an undercover cop, then going on to murder Brett. Coming after her and Duncan, and finally shooting her outside the hotel.
Surely, they’d pay for their crimes.
God wouldn’t let any of them, even Wolfe, simply walk away, would He?
Police sirens grew louder, and she noticed Duncan looking over her shoulder. Reluctantly releasing him, she turned to watch two police cars driving up to the Wolfe Industries hangar.
Duncan shifted so that he was standing in front of her. She frowned, then remembered they weren’t entirely sure who to trust within the Jackson Police Department. Still, she didn’t think it was likely a dirty cop would try something here with all these people around.
Including two federal marshals.
“Let’s head back to the private hangar where the cargo plane is located,” Duncan murmured in a low voice.
“I’m sure we’re not going to be leaving anytime soon,” she pointed out.
“Maybe not, but humor me anyway. It doesn’t hurt to have a possible escape route in case things go sideways.” Duncan moved toward the hangar.
Go sideways? She didn’t like the sound of that. Still, she decided there was no reason to argue.
Four police officers had emerged from the two squad cars, coming over to talk to Colt and Slade. The three bound men had been shoved into the back of the limo. She frowned, wondering if the driver had remained behind the wheel.
As if hearing her thoughts, Colt opened the driver’s side door and motioned with his gun for the driver to get out. She breathed a sigh of relief.
“Duncan, do you think that once we testify against these guys we can go back to our normal lives?”
He glanced at her, remaining silent until they’d reached the cargo plane. “Honestly, I don’t know, Chelsey. If these guys are the main players, then maybe. But you have to understand the wheels of justice don’t move fast. And with Wolfe’s high-priced legal team, I wouldn’t be surprised if this dragged on for years.”
“Years?” The tiny flame of hope withered and died.
“Hey, we’re going to be okay.” Duncan smiled. “I’ll be with you the entire time.”
“Wait, what? You can’t give up your family for me, Duncan. That’s too great a sacrifice.”
“After what I’ve witnessed here, I don’t think there’s any other option,” he countered, his expression turning serious. “I heard them talk about how glad they were you were dead, Chelsey. And they mentioned Brett’s murder, too. I’m just as much a part of this case as you are.”
She stared at him for a long moment, knowing he was right, yet wishing he was wrong. “Even so, that doesn’t mean we’d be relocated together. In fact, it would be more likely that the federal marshal program would insist we be separated.”
His brow furrowed. “That’s not happening. We’re sticking together, Chelsey. You have my word.”
“But...I don’t want you to feel obligated to stay with me.” It wasn’t easy to put her feelings into words. “You have a family to return to when the trial is over.”
Duncan’s dark brown gaze bored into hers but before he could respond, Slade crossed over.
“The police want us to go to the station to provide statements about what transpired here.” Slade glanced over his shoulder, then added, “I don’t love the idea since we still don’t know who to trust within the department.”
“I know. Wolfe in particular mentioned how he was paying for the guy on the inside who might help them.” Duncan gestured with his hand. “Colt heard it, too.”
Slade gave a grim nod. “My plan is to have me and Colt go with the cops and the prisoners to the station together to make sure they don’t escape. But that leaves you and Chelsey to get there on your own.”
There was a moment of silence as Duncan considered Slade’s offer.
“I feel safe with Duncan,” she offered, in case there was any doubt.
“Okay, but we’ll have to get a rental car. You guys should take the SUV,” Duncan said.
“No, I think you and Chelsey need it more than we do,” Slade protested. “We’ve requested a police transport van. The limo will remain here until it can be processed.”
She glanced at the limo curiously. “You mean they’ll look for evidence?”
Slade nodded. “Exactly.”
“They need to look at the plane, too,” Duncan said. “And they need to wash the inside of Wolfe’s hangar with luminol. I’m convinced the murder of Roland Perry took place there. Brett’s photos don’t show enough of the building, but the photographs along with finding blood evidence should be enough to put Nettles away for a long time.”
“Maybe he’ll roll over on Travis Wolfe,” Slade mused. “I’d think he’d be anxious to try to make a deal for a lighter sentence.”
“A lighter sentence for murder?” Chelsey couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“Don’t worry, he’ll spend plenty of time in jail,” Slade assured her.
“Looks like the police transport van is on its way,” Duncan said, jutting his chin toward the road. “It should be here shortly.”
“Take the SUV.” Slade lightly tossed the key fob in the air. Duncan easily caught it. “We’ll see you down at the station.”
Chelsey watched as Slade made his way back to the group of law enforcement officers. The SUV wasn’t far, and once the transport van arrived, Duncan cupped her elbow in his hand and nudged her forward.
“Let’s go.”
She nodded, glancing back at the cargo plane before sliding into the SUV’s passenger seat. For a moment, she wanted more than anything to ask the pilot to whisk her and Duncan far away from there, but then a flash of shame followed.
She wouldn’t be a coward, slinking away from this. If she needed to testify, she would.
Even if that meant losing everything—especially, and most importantly, Duncan.
* * *
Duncan kept an eye on the rearview mirror, watching the group of five men, the original four plus the pilot, being ushered into the police van. They grew distant as he pushed the accelerator to the floor.
In theory, the worst was over. They had the three main men in custody and felt certain they’d stay there, even if they had a cop on their payroll.
He had to physically unclench his fingers from the steering wheel in an attempt to relax his grip. For some reason, he couldn’t relax. Couldn’t find a way to believe the horror of Brett’s murder and that of Roland Perry was over.
There was no reason to be paranoid, but he kept a keen gaze on the traffic behind them as they left the Jackson airport. He wanted to be ready to react, just in case.
So far, so good. He turned off the highway and headed through town to the local police station.
From what seemed like nowhere, a squad car pulled up behind them, red and blue lights flashing. The driver of the squad car also hit the siren, indicating Duncan should stop.
“Why is he pulling us over?” Chelsey asked, worry in her tone. “We didn’t break any traffic laws, did we?”
“No.” Duncan’s gut instincts were screaming at him. Instead of pulling over, he wrenched the steering
wheel to the left, and hit the gas. The SUV responded well, barely screeching as he took a hard left.
“What are you doing?” Chelsey gripped the armrest between them. “We can’t outrun a cop!”
“Keep an eye on him,” Duncan ordered, as he took more turns in an attempt to shake the squad car off his tail. Not as easy to do in downtown Jackson, a place he wasn’t familiar with.
A city the cop behind him could navigate blindfolded.
Chelsey twisted in her seat. “I don’t understand. Shouldn’t we at least talk to him?”
“Not if he’s the one being paid to help get rid of us.” Duncan raked his gaze over the area, hoping, praying for some way to escape the cop sticking behind him like a pesky gnat.
Then another squad car materialized from the right, cutting directly in front of him. Duncan had little choice but to yank the SUV over and hit the brake hard, to avoid the inevitable collision.
“Be ready to run,” he said in a low, urgent voice.
“No, I’m not leaving you,” she whispered.
He didn’t like it and reached for his gun, but a second too late. The officer was already at his driver’s side window, his weapon pointed at Duncan.
“Put your hands in the air! Don’t touch the gun!”
“I won’t!” The last thing Duncan needed was for this guy to be trigger happy.
“Get out of the car with your hands up!”
“Don’t shoot! I’m surrendering!” Duncan did as ordered while trying desperately to think of a way out of this mess. He didn’t trust either of these guys, but the cop behind him less so than the younger officer holding him at gunpoint.
Holding his hands up high, he kicked the door open. The young officer had taken several steps back, so the abrupt opening of the door didn’t come close to touching him. “My name is Duncan O’Hare and I’m a cop with the Milwaukee Police Department.”
“Turn around very slowly and put your hands on the top of the vehicle.” The officer acted as if he didn’t care that Duncan was a fellow cop.
“Thanks JT, I’ll take it from here,” a voice drawled from behind him.
