She’s Positive

by Delores Fossen

  Boyd debated it and finally nodded, along with a smile. He knew there was an intimate connection between Colin and her, and if it worked to his advantage, Boyd would exploit it.

  “Colin?” she said, leaning in closer to the phone.

  “I’m here.”

  She opened her mouth and rethought the goodbye she’d been about to say. Because she didn’t want to make it sound as if she were giving up. She wasn’t. Couldn’t give up. Her precious child’s life was at stake, and she had to do whatever was necessary to stay alive.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the baby.”

  “Oh, this is so touching,” Boyd snarled before Colin could respond. “But I’m already tired of this conversation. When the helicopter lands, I’ll phone you with final instructions.” He hung up and clipped the phone to his belt.

  Boyd looked at her. “Don’t think for one minute that your pregnancy means anything to me. Because one way or another, I’m getting out of here alive, and if I have to sacrifice somebody to make that happen, that somebody will be you. Got it?”

  Since she didn’t trust her voice, Danielle settled for a nod.

  “Good.” Boyd returned the nod. “When we go outside to get on the chopper, you’ll need to make it clear to your hubby to back off. Got that?”

  She nodded. But Colin wouldn’t back off. And he might die trying to save her.

  The helicopter came into view, and the sound of the blades whipped through the air. Boyd snatched her arm. Forced her to stand. “It’s showtime, Doc.”

  He unlocked the door and shoved her into the corridor ahead of him. They headed toward the kitchen and the back exit.

  His phone rang, and from the corner of her eye, she saw Boyd glance down. Danielle also saw something else. In the kitchen.

  Colin.

  Somehow, he’d gotten into the house without being seen.

  “Get down!” Colin yelled.

  She automatically dropped to the floor, protecting her stomach from the fall.

  Colin fired.

  But Boyd dove to the side. He fired, too. And Danielle watched in horror as the bullet slammed into Colin.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Even over the deafening noise of the chopper, Colin heard Danielle scream.

  He couldn’t call out to her, because of the searing pain that robbed him of his voice. He had to clamp his teeth over his bottom lip to keep from groaning.

  He scrambled behind a kitchen island. Not easily. But he got out of the immediate line of fire and clamped his left hand over his leg. Boyd’s bullet had sliced through the outside of his lower thigh. He didn’t think it’d hit the bone but instead had gone clean through. That was the good news.

  The bad news was that he was bleeding, bad.

  Colin forced aside the pain and tried to pick through the chopper noise so he could hear whatever was happening to Danielle. He’d gotten just a glimpse of her when Boyd had shoved her out of the surveillance room. She appeared to be unharmed, but that might not last. Boyd was on the offensive, and he would kill whoever got in his way.

  Colin thought of another hostage situation. The one in Mesa Ridge where the woman had been killed. He hadn’t been able to save her.

  He’d failed.

  But he couldn’t let that failure affect this. He squeezed his eyes shut for just a second and tried to put those fatal images out of his mind.

  “Colin?” Boyd shouted.

  Two things happened simultaneously. Colin’s phone buzzed, and the noise from the helicopter stopped. The pilot had obviously already landed and had turned off the engine. And the call was probably from Dylan. However, Colin couldn’t risk answering it. He didn’t want Boyd to hear the sound of his voice and use it to pinpoint his exact location.

  Colin was going to play dead.

  That was his best defense right now, since it might lure Boyd out. After all, the man needed to get to the helicopter and get the account numbers.

  “Call out to him,” Boyd snarled. No doubt talking to Danielle.

  Colin prayed that she would cooperate.

  She didn’t.

  Because a few moments later, Boyd repeated the order, this time in a much sterner voice, and Colin heard Danielle make a sound of pain.

  Colin couldn’t just lie there and let Boyd hurt her. Trying not to be heard, Colin inched his way to the end of the kitchen island. Hell. He couldn’t see them.

  “Colin?” Danielle said. Man, her voice was so shaky, and she had to be terrified. He certainly was. Someone like Boyd killed as easily as he breathed, and he had Danielle at gunpoint. “Are you…all right?”

  He wished he could assure her that he was. Well, he was close to being all right anyway. He’d need a doctor soon but not before he took care of this piece of slime who was holding his wife hostage.

  “If you can, answer me,” Danielle added, no doubt following Boyd’s whispered instructions.

  Since this angle wasn’t working, Colin maneuvered himself to the other end of the kitchen island. He could finally see them, thank God. Boyd was in the corridor, and he had Danielle positioned in front of him.

  He had the gun pressed to her head.

  Danielle was too pale, and her bottom lip was trembling. She had her left hand clasped protectively over her stomach. The gesture tore at his heart because they both knew if bullets started flying her hand wouldn’t be much protection for the baby.

  “Colin!” Boyd shouted. “Last chance. Come out or your wife pays the consequences.”

  It was a bluff. Boyd needed Danielle alive and mobile for now so he could use her as a shield to get to the helicopter. However, after that, well, Colin didn’t want to think beyond the moment.

  Colin watched Boyd, waiting for the man to move. Once he started for the door, maybe he would turn and put Danielle in front of him. Then, Colin might have a shot.

  Might.

  Boyd was about five or six inches taller than Danielle so that meant unless Boyd ducked down to completely conceal himself, Colin or another agent would possibly have a clean kill. But not without risks. Because when it came to Danielle, a bullet only five or six inches from her head was too damn close.

  Boyd’s phone rang, the sound rifling through the otherwise silent room. Colin used the sound to muffle his own movement, and he maneuvered himself from the island to the edge of the kitchen cabinets.

  Another ring.

  Then another.

  Finally, Boyd answered, and he put the call on speaker.

  “Boyd?” the caller said. “This is Special Agent Dylan Acevedo.”

  “Where’s Colin?” Boyd asked, knowing full well that he was somewhere in the kitchen. Either alive or dead.

  “I’m not sure,” Dylan responded. “Last I saw him he was taking Luke Vaughn back to his parents.”

  “Well, he made a detour. My guess is he used the tunnels and somehow got into the house.” Boyd paused. “I killed him a few minutes ago.”

  A sob tore from Danielle, and even though Dylan didn’t react, Colin figured the man was probably having plenty of reactions that they couldn’t hear. For one thing, he was likely calling for the SWAT team. Colin only prayed that the team did a silent approach. He didn’t want to give Boyd any excuse to start shooting.

  “You got the account number for my money?” Boyd asked Dylan.

  “Yes. I’ll give it to you as soon as you’ve released Dr. Connolly.”

  “The release will happen when I’m in the chopper. But remember, I want no badges anywhere around. That includes you. When I’m on board, call me with the account number. Once I confirm it, I’ll release the doc.”

  “I’ll release all but the last two numbers until Dr. Connolly is free.”

  “Nice try,” Boyd tossed back. “But I keep the doc until I have the full account number and have verified that the money doesn’t have any tracers on it.”

  “Then what assurance do I have that you’ll really let her go?” Dylan asked.

  “None. Other than my
word,” Boyd added. “Stay away from the house because I’m coming out now.”

  That was Colin’s cue to get ready. Boyd put his phone back in place and hooked his left arm around Danielle’s neck, putting her in a choke hold. He moved toward the back door, pushing her and keeping her ahead of him.

  Colin used Boyd’s steps to muffle the sound of his own movement. Inch by excruciating inch, he got into place.

  And then he waited.

  It seemed to take an eternity for Boyd and Danielle to walk those ten feet or so to the back door. Boyd kept Danielle in front of him while he unlocked the door. He didn’t open it. Probably wouldn’t. Because there was no way Boyd would want to back his way out onto the porch and the yard. Instead, he turned to the side and pressed Danielle right against him with her back to his chest.

  Colin didn’t have a shot.

  Yet.

  Boyd peered out into the yard, but he also kept glancing back into the kitchen. Colin prayed the man didn’t look in his direction because he needed the element of surprise. And plenty of luck. While he was praying, Colin added that he hoped Danielle would see what was happening and dive safely out of the way.

  Still sideways, Boyd stepped through the doorway with Danielle, and he started to turn, so he could place her in front of him.

  Colin got to his feet and ignored the pain in his leg. He took aim. But something must have alerted Boyd because he spun back around. Before Colin could get off a shot, Boyd shoved Danielle in front of him again.

  Hell.

  He’d failed.

  Colin met Danielle’s gaze, and in her eyes he saw all the fears and the emotions that were no doubt mirrored in his own.

  Boyd, however, smiled. But it wasn’t a smile of triumph or even confidence. The man looked ready to snap. With reason. He was standing outside and no doubt realized the possibility of other agents nearby who were ready to descend on him.

  “If you shoot me,” Boyd warned, “the last thing I’ll do is pull the trigger and put a bullet in her. No more wife. No more baby.”

  And with that warning, Boyd put the gun right to Danielle’s temple, and he started across the porch toward the helicopter.

  “COLIN,” Danielle said under her breath.

  She didn’t dare shout his name for fear he would take it as a call for help and come rushing after her.

  Then Boyd might shoot him again.

  God, Colin was already hurt and bleeding, and even though he’d been able to stand, he needed to get to the hospital. Fast. She had to do something to help because the thought of him in pain or dying nearly brought her to her knees.

  Danielle tried to dig in her heels, but Boyd dragged her right along with him. The porch spanned the entire width of the house, but it wouldn’t be long before he had her in the yard and on that helicopter.

  That couldn’t happen.

  Boyd turned to the side again, probably so he could watch both the back door and the yard. “Keep moving,” he snarled.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Colin peer out from the door. Boyd apparently did, too, because he immediately turned his gun in that direction and fired.

  Danielle yelled for Colin to get down, but she wasn’t even sure he heard her over the deafening sound of that shot. Boyd’s gun was so close to her ear that the blast pounded through her head.

  Colin ducked back out of sight, and Boyd didn’t waste any time getting her to move again. He dragged Danielle to the edge of the porch where there was a set of stone and concrete steps. He made it to the first one before Colin darted out again. He didn’t fire.

  But Boyd did.

  The bullet tore through a chunk of the wooden doorframe right next to where Colin had been standing before he ducked back out of sight.

  “You want her dead?” Boyd shouted, hauling her down onto the second step. “Because that’s what’ll happen if you don’t back off.”

  There were only three more steps to go before Boyd would have her in the yard. Danielle knew she had to do something now to stop this.

  But what?

  Anything was a risk, and she didn’t want Colin leaving cover to rush out into what would be a suicide mission. She couldn’t lose him. He was too important to her for that. And even though the timing was horrible, Danielle realized something else.

  How much she still loved him.

  But she might never get a chance to tell him.

  Boyd went down another step. And Danielle decided to make her move. Such that it was. It certainly wasn’t some grand plan, but she had no weapon, no way to defend herself against this much stronger man. The only thing she had going for her was gravity.

  “Colin!” she shouted again, hoping that it would distract Boyd for just a second.

  Whether it worked, she didn’t know. Danielle didn’t look back. Nor did she give herself time to have second thoughts.

  She dove to the side of the steps.

  And hit the ground. She landed on her right side and shoulder, and the pain shot through her. She ignored it and scrambled away from the steps.

  She didn’t get far.

  Boyd cursed and reached down for her. His hand was mere inches away from latching on to her and using her again as his shield.

  “Boyd!” she heard Colin yell out.

  Boyd turned. Aimed his gun. At Colin.

  And he fired.

  Colin fired, too. Two shots. The bullets blasted one right after the other.

  Both shots went into Boyd’s chest.

  But he didn’t fall.

  Danielle had no idea how he could continue to stand after taking two bullets to the chest. However, he did. She could only lie there and watch in horror as Boyd re-aimed his gun. Not at Colin.

  At her.

  Danielle turned to try to brace herself for the impact, but it didn’t come. There was another blast. Colin had fired another shot. This one hit Boyd in the head.

  The man froze. For mere seconds. But his eyes were blank and lifeless and blood trickled down his face. He tumbled into a limp heap at the bottom of the stairs, his equally lifeless hand landing against her arm.

  She struggled to get up from the ground, and she saw the movement all around them. SWAT team members. And Dylan. He was racing across the yard right toward her.

  “Colin?” she called out.

  But he didn’t come. Dylan got to her first. “An ambulance is on the way,” he let her know.

  “For Colin. He needs a doctor now. He’s been shot.” She tried to get up again, but Dylan gently held her in place.

  “The ambulance is for you, too,” Dylan said.

  Danielle looked up at him and blinked, not understanding.

  “The fall,” he said, “it could have hurt your baby.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Can you hurry it up?” Colin asked the doctor again.

  “Almost done,” Dr. Barnwell mumbled, though the craggy-faced MD in the small-town hospital didn’t seem to know the meaning of the expression. He’d been “almost done” stitching Colin’s leg for a half hour now.

  Each of those minutes felt like an eternity.

  Colin didn’t have a cell phone. He’d lost that in the gun fight with Boyd. Or maybe it’d happened on the ambulance ride or while they’d been rushing him into X-ray to make sure the bullet wasn’t still inside him.

  Either way, he didn’t have a way to call anyone and find out how Danielle was.

  And Colin hadn’t seen her since the shooting.

  Two ambulances had arrived at the estate at the same time, within minutes after Colin had fired the last shot, and the medics had whisked Danielle away while they were stabilizing Colin’s own injury. But he didn’t care about his gunshot wound to the leg. He only cared about seeing her.

  Yes, he was mad at her for not telling him about the baby. And he was furious with her for going into the estate so that Boyd could hold her hostage.

  But he was more furious with himself.

  He only hoped she would talk to him and l
et him explain why he’d acted like an idiot.

  “I have to get out of here,” he told the doctor. Maybe if he reworded his urgency, the man would understand.

  “Yes. You’ve made that clear.”

  Colin scrubbed his hand over his face. “You don’t seem to understand. I’m worried about my wife.”

  “I’ve already told you she’s fine. The nurse gave me a report before I came in here to see you.”

  Colin knew that, but he had to see for himself. Besides, that was a half hour ago. She might have started bleeding. She might be losing the baby.

  And if so, it would be all his fault.

  He hadn’t been able to kill Boyd before Danielle had been reduced to taking drastic action. That fall from the porch steps could have hurt her and the baby.

  Thankfully, the doctor finally stood up and peeled off his latex gloves. “You got about two dozen stitches, but the wound is clean, and I don’t think you’ll have any problems if you stay off it for a while. I’ve already given you a shot for the pain, but I’ll write you scrips for antibiotics and oral painkillers.”

  Yeah, yeah. Colin got off the examining table and tried to stand. The pain shot through, but he ignored it and groped for the wheelchair that was next to the bed.

  “Hold on,” the doctor growled. “You shouldn’t be on that leg.”

  “I need to find my wife.”

  “Not a chance. You’ve already been admitted to the hospital, and with your injuries, you have to stay in bed. Hospital rules. I’ll find her, and bring her back here to see you. Stay put,” the doctor ordered. “I’ll also get someone in here to help you change into a hospital gown.”

  Colin glanced down at his jeans. The medic had cut the denim to expose the wound, and there were bloodstains on both the jeans and his shirt. He was a mess and would likely scare anyone in his path, but even that wouldn’t stop him.

  “Stay put,” the doctor warned, and he headed out the door and disappeared down a corridor.

  Colin didn’t intend to listen to that order. He reached for the wheelchair, and though the pain watered his eyes, he worked his way into it. To hell with hospital rules. To hell with anything that got in his way.