Cowboy Behind the Badge

by Delores Fossen

  Her eyebrows flexed. “Oh.”

  For a simple little word, it conveyed a lot. So did her gaze, which dropped to his mouth. “Not that, either. I figure it’s a good idea if we don’t kiss, don’t think about kissing and don’t even bring up the subject.”

  The next sound she made was a short hmm as she sipped her coffee. “You’re right, of course.”

  It didn’t feel or sound right at all.

  “Obviously, there’s still something between us,” he added. “But that kind of something can make a bad situation worse.”

  An image of her mother flashed through his head. And his family. No one on any side of this mess with Jewell and Whitt Braddock would want to see Laine and him together.

  “Maybe that’s it,” she mumbled. “It’s the whole forbidden attraction thing that’s drawing us together.”

  Tucker thought about that a moment. Dismissed it. And because he clearly didn’t have much of a brain left, he leaned in and brushed his mouth over hers.

  It was nothing—just a touch of their lips. At least it should have been nothing. But as usual with Tucker, things were never simple.

  “Nope, nothing to do with anything forbidden,” he assured her. “It was there a long time before we ended up on opposite sides.”

  A knock at the door caused him and Laine to fly apart as if they’d been caught doing something wrong—which they were. It wasn’t Rhonda or either of their other suspects. It was the dirtbag’s lawyer. The woman was pale, and had beads of sweat above her upper lip.

  “I’ll be there when I’m ready,” Tucker snapped.

  “No need. My client’s changed his mind. Mr. Buford doesn’t want a plea deal after all.”

  The lawyer would have just darted right out of there if Tucker hadn’t snagged her by the arm. “What gives?”

  She looked over his shoulder and then shook off Tucker’s grip. “I’m not at liberty to say. My client wishes to be returned to his cell now. He’s advised me that he intends to remain silent.”

  Tucker cursed when the lawyer walked away, and he went back through the past half hour to try and figure out what’d gone wrong.

  It didn’t take him long to come up with something.

  “Buford saw Rhonda when she opened the door to the interview room,” Tucker said with a groan. “Darren, too. If one of them is his boss, Buford could have seen their presence as some kind of veiled warning for him to keep quiet.”

  “Well, it worked,” Laine said. “What about the one in the hospital? Any chance he’ll be willing to make a plea deal?”

  “Maybe. But I need to make sure both Darren and Rhonda stay away from him. Hague, too, because Hague could have called Buford’s lawyer and told him he was on the way here.”

  Maybe Buford had thought he could make the deal and be placed in witness protection before his boss learned what was going on. Now something—or more likely, someone—had spooked him.

  Tucker took out his phone to call the private security company that was guarding the guy, but before he could make the call, his phone rang.

  “It’s the Ranger crime lab,” he relayed to Laine, and he answered it.

  “We just got back the results of the babies’ DNA tests,” the tech said.

  Tucker had hoped they’d be back this soon, but he hadn’t realized just what an emotional punch it would be when the crime lab called. His stomach tightened again, and when his lungs started to ache he realized he was holding his breath.

  “And?” Tucker managed to ask.

  “They’re fraternal twins, and their mother was indeed the dead woman, Dawn Cowen.”

  Laine sucked in a lot of air. Not that this was a surprise to her. After all, Dawn had brought the babies to her office, but still it was hard hearing it all spelled out for them.

  “And the babies’ father?” Tucker asked, though he figured the tech wouldn’t have that info. There was no reason for Darren to be in the system, and there wouldn’t have been time for his DNA sample to be processed yet.

  “It’s a man named Kurt Laverty.”

  Tucker looked at Laine to see if she knew who the man was, but she only shook her head. “You’re positive?” he asked the tech.

  “Yeah. This is standard paternity test, and it was an easy match since we have Laverty’s DNA on file.”

  There were only a few reasons why the DNA would have been in the system, and knowing Dawn’s history, Tucker was betting Laverty wasn’t a state or federal employee. It was because he was a criminal.

  “Tell me Laverty’s in jail,” Tucker added, because he didn’t want to hand over the babies to some sleazebag who just happened to get Dawn pregnant.

  “Oh, he’s in jail, all right, and he’s been there for the past four months. He pled out on a double murder charge so he could get the death penalty off the table. He got two consecutive life sentences.”

  Good. Well, not good for the twins. It would have been better if they’d had a decent father who could give them a good life. But at least this way, Laverty wouldn’t get his hands on them.

  Nor would Darren.

  “Now we know,” Laine mumbled when Tucker ended the call. She opened her mouth, closed it, then started to pace. “I want to adopt them.”

  It wasn’t exactly a surprise. Tucker had seen her getting attached to the babies, but attachment and motherhood were two different things.

  “Dawn could have next of kin who would want them,” Tucker reminded her. And if any of Dawn’s or Laverty’s family members were around, they would have a legal claim.

  For that matter, so would family services.

  With the results from the DNA test back and the confirmed death of the birth mother, the state could and would take the twins while they sorted it all out.

  “Sleep on that,” Tucker advised her. Though part of him—an obviously stupid part—hoped she didn’t change her mind. Laine would be a good mother.

  He didn’t have any doubts about that.

  Tucker had seen the way she’d handled the babies. He’d also seen how much she’d wanted a child, especially since he now knew she couldn’t have one of her own.

  “I’d planned on adopting anyway,” Laine continued, as Tucker led her out of the break room and toward the front of the building.

  “Twins,” he reminded her. “They’re double the work.”

  She looked up at him. “Do you really want them to go to strangers?”

  “No.” Tucker didn’t even have to think about that. “I just want what’s best for them. And for you.”

  He groaned, hating that Laine now factored into this. It darn sure didn’t help things that he was thinking of what was best for her, rather than what was best overall.

  That dang kiss had changed everything.

  He stopped by Reed’s desk and waited until the deputy had finished a call. “Laine and I are heading out,” Tucker told him. “Any word on Dawn’s next of kin?”

  Reed shook his head. “Her parents are both dead, and she has no siblings. Her mother has a sister, but the Rangers haven’t had any luck tracking her down so far.”

  “Does she have a criminal record?” Laine asked right off the bat.

  Another head shake from Reed. “She’s a secretary at a bank in San Antonio, but she’s on vacation and isn’t answering her phone.” His eyes widened. “You don’t think she’s been hurt, do you?”

  “No.” At least Tucker hoped she hadn’t been. “But just in case, have someone from SAPD drop by her place for a welfare check.”

  Reed nodded, assured him that he would.

  So, the babies had an aunt. Maybe one who would want them and crush Laine’s dream of adopting them. Tucker hated how this could all turn out, but he especially hated that they had no control over the fate of the newborns they’d been prote
cting.

  “Come on,” Tucker said, opening the door.

  He glanced around to make sure no one suspicious was lurking in the halls, including Hague, who was still possibly on his way over. Tucker didn’t see anyone, so he got Laine moving toward the side parking lot. They were halfway between the sheriff’s office and his truck when he spotted movement on the roof just across the street.

  But it was too late.

  The shot came right at Laine and him.

  Chapter Twelve

  Laine didn’t even have time to react. But Tucker did. He pulled her to the ground.

  They landed hard, the concrete scraping against her hands and knees and nearly knocking the breath right out of her. Before Laine could even regain that breath—or think—Tucker had gotten her moving again. He hooked his arm around her, and they rolled to the side of a cruiser.

  Barely in time.

  Another bullet slammed through the air, landing in the spot where they’d just been.

  Cursing, Tucker drew his gun and took aim at the diner across the street. The front of the small building was a wall of windows, and Laine got just a glimpse of the stunned expressions of the diners before Tucker pushed her even farther to the ground.

  Sweet heaven. Was the shooter in there with all those people?

  If so, not only did Tucker not have a clean shot, but it was also possible he could hit an innocent bystander. At this time of day, there could be families inside.

  “You see the shooter?” Reed shouted, and it took her a moment to realize he’d shouted it from an open window in the sheriff’s office.

  “He’s on the roof of the diner,” Tucker answered, but then he cursed again when another bullet slammed into the concrete just inches from them.

  So the gunman wasn’t actually inside, but he could do a lot of damage from the roof. Worse, some of the diners were obviously starting to panic. Laine could hear their screams and shouts for help, and she prayed none of them would run out into the line of fire.

  “Call the jail and have them send some guards for backup,” Tucker yelled. “Did the guard already leave with Buford?”

  “No. Buford’s still in the interview room talking with his lawyer.”

  That obviously didn’t please Tucker because he groaned. “Tell them to stay put.”

  That’s when Laine remembered that Reed was the only deputy inside the sheriff’s office. Colt was back at the ranch guarding the babies, and Cooper was away on his honeymoon. The night deputies wouldn’t be coming in for several hours, and there was no way Tucker would want Buford left alone. It would be too tempting for him to try to escape.

  In fact, that might be why this attack was happening.

  If someone connected with Buford had been watching the sheriff’s office, then they would have known this was the perfect time for an attack. A gunman could take out her and Tucker while freeing Buford, and it likely wouldn’t matter to this shooter how many innocent people could get caught up in the cross fire.

  “Unlock the cruiser,” Tucker called out to Reed.

  More shots came, and in between the loud blasts, Laine heard the slight clicking sound. A moment later, Tucker threw open the passenger’s-side door of the cruiser. Obviously, Reed had managed to unlock it from inside, no doubt using a remote key. The police car wasn’t ideal cover because it was parked out in the open, but Laine was thankful for anything that would get her and Tucker out of the path of those bullets.

  “Get in and stay down,” Tucker told her.

  He stayed perched behind the door and in front of her, his gun ready. And with his left hand, he pushed her into the cruiser.

  Laine scrambled across the seat, reaching for Tucker to pull him in with her, but he stayed put and adjusted the aim of his gun.

  Tucker fired.

  The sound was deafening. It was so close that she could have sworn it rattled the windows.

  Laine couldn’t tell if his shot hit its target, but she guessed it hadn’t when the next shot flew into the cruiser’s front windshield. The glass was obviously bullet-resistant, but it still cracked and webbed, making it even harder for her to see what was going on.

  Tucker levered himself up to fire another shot, but then immediately flattened himself on the ground when a bullet slammed into the cruiser door. The sound of metal ripping through metal caused her heart to pound against her ribs. The door might be bullet-resistant, too, but if the shooter kept it up, the shots could eventually get through, and Tucker could die.

  “Get inside the car,” she insisted.

  Of course, he ignored her and leaned out of the door again.

  This time, he didn’t even get off a shot before a bullet smacked into his gun. For one heart-stopping moment, Laine thought he’d been hit, and she heard herself call out his name again. The sparks flew, and Tucker dropped his weapon only to snatch it back up again.

  “I’m pretty sure this is the moron who tried to kill us at my house,” Tucker relayed to her.

  It didn’t surprise her that he’d come back for them. Laine could still feel his arm around her throat and his gun jammed to her head. He wasn’t close enough to do that now, but he could continue to blast his way into the car.

  But why?

  Why had he or his boss targeted Tucker and her to die?

  Laine had gone back to that question over and over, and the only thing she could come up with was Dawn. Maybe the gunman thought Dawn had told her something incriminating. Something that would link back to the person behind not just these attacks but the baby farms themselves. But Dawn had barely managed to say anything before the killers had come for her.

  “What the hell’s he doing here?” Tucker mumbled.

  Laine lifted her head just a fraction and caught a glimpse of Darren across the street. He was in front of the antique store just to the left of the diner. He had his back flat against the store’s door, and he, too, had drawn his gun.

  Tucker had asked a great question—what was he doing there?

  Darren had left the sheriff’s office a good half hour before, and while Laine wanted to think that maybe he was still in town just doing errands or something, she didn’t like the timing of this.

  Was Darren there because he’d hired that shooter on the roof, or was he in the same wrong place/wrong time situation as the diners?

  “Get inside the store, Darren!” Tucker shouted to him.

  Even over the din of the gunfire, Laine was fairly certain that Darren had heard him, but he ignored Tucker’s order and stayed put. Sweet heaven, Tucker didn’t need to have that kind of distraction now.

  “Two guards are on the way!” Reed shouted out to them.

  Good. But they wouldn’t be able to get close enough to the shooter without running the risk of being gunned down.

  Tucker fired another shot, took out his phone and tossed it to her. “Tell Reed to get those guards at the back of the diner. I want this idiot stopped now.”

  Laine managed a shaky nod, and with equally shaky hands, she scrolled through the numbers until she located Reed’s. The deputy answered on the first ring, and she relayed Tucker’s message. Tucker no doubt hadn’t wanted to shout it out because he didn’t want the guy to have any warning as to what was about to happen.

  Maybe he hadn’t wanted to alert Darren, either.

  “The guards will be at the rear of the diner in just a couple of minutes,” Reed confirmed after she heard him make a call. “But we got another problem. That social worker, Hague, and his lawyer just came running into the back of the sheriff’s office. He claims he heard the shots and figured this was the safest place to be.”

  Oh, God. Definitely not good. “He could be there to help Buford escape.”

  “That’s what I figured. I’ll keep an eye on him.”

  Tha
t wouldn’t be easy because she could still see Reed at the window. He had his gun ready, and his attention was focused on the shooter.

  The bullets continued to come at them, but the direction changed a little. Instead of the door, they all seemed to be coming through the windshield. Each one chipped away at the glass and sent her adrenaline soaring.

  “Get on the floor,” Tucker told her.

  He fired some shots at the gunman, reached in the glove compartment, reloaded with a fresh magazine and fired again. Still the bullets kept tearing through the glass, and one finally broke through just as she dropped to the floor. It tore through the car and slammed into the rear windshield.

  The shooter might have seen her move, because again the shots shifted and he began to fire into the engine. Where the bullets could eventually reach her. Maybe reach her before the guards got to the diner.

  “Do you know how to hot-wire a car?” Tucker asked. Because of the gunshots, he had to yell it.

  Laine shook her head.

  “Then you’re about to learn, because there’s no remote starter for the cruiser. Stay on the floor, get that Swiss Army knife in the glove compartment and use it to open the ignition cover.” He motioned toward the plastic panels above and below the steering column.

  Laine cursed her hands, which were shaking even harder now, and despite her out-of-control heartbeat and breathing, she tried to tamp down her responses. Hard to do with that with those bullets eating their way through the car. Even if she managed to hotwire it, those bullets might have already disabled the engine.

  It took some doing, but she finally managed to get the panel off, and some wires spilled out.

  “Take the red one—” Tucker’s explanation was cut off by more shots.

  Different from those that had been coming at them.

  Laine hadn’t thought the noise from the gunfight could get any worse, but she’d obviously been wrong.

  She glanced out at Darren again to see if he was responsible for this new round of gunfire, but he was still in place against the antiques store. He was holding his gun in both hands against his chest with the barrel pointed up. The stance of a man who was waiting, not firing.