Cowboy Behind the Badge
Page 16
No sign of the shooter, though.
But the guy was still nearby because he sent a shot in Colt’s direction, pinning his brother down.
Tucker maneuvered Laine behind a stack of lumber and away from the stairs, in case someone tried to get to them from that direction. He inched his way toward the front, still looking for the idiot who’d tried to kill them. It sickened Tucker to think of the guy getting away or hurting Colt, but it sickened him even more that he or one of his cronies could already be in place to strike again.
Tucker hadn’t even gotten in place when he heard a strange sound. Not footsteps or gunshots, but almost a groaning noise. His gaze flew to Laine, praying he’d been wrong about the sound coming from her direction.
But he wasn’t wrong.
The groaning sound turned to a loud snap. The floor gave way, and Laine called out for Tucker as she fell through the broken wood.
Chapter Seventeen
Everything happened so fast. Much too fast for Laine to do anything to break her fall.
One second she was standing on the second story of Cooper’s future house, and the next she was slamming into the floor below her. She landed on her back, and with nothing to break her fall, she had her breath knocked right out of her.
The pain shot through her, and with her lungs clenched, she had to fight just to sit up.
“Laine?” Tucker shouted, and she could hear him running on the floor above.
But Laine also heard something else.
Movement to her right.
Despite the pain, she shifted her attention in that direction and saw something she definitely didn’t want to see. The same shadowy figure from the stairs at the McKinnon house.
He took aim at her.
Laine forced herself to move. Not easy to do with every muscle in her body aching, and maybe even a broken bone. Still, she moved. She scrambled behind a partial wall.
Barely in the nick of time.
A bullet came right at her.
The shot smacked into one of the wooden studs, rattling the wall and also rattling her even though the shot itself hardly made a sound. The gunman was now using a silencer. Maybe so that none of the McKinnons would know that she and Tucker were being attacked again.
This couldn’t be happening.
Tucker, his family and she were right back in the middle of danger. The only bright spot in it all was that the babies were at the safe house, far away from the bullets. She was thankful that Tucker had had the foresight to get them out of harm’s way.
Of course, he wouldn’t see it that way.
He’d see it as a failure on his part, since he hadn’t been able to protect everyone else. Her included. But she knew the only reason she was alive at all was because of Tucker.
“Laine?” Tucker shouted again.
She could tell he was at the top of the unfinished stairs. No railing. Just bare steps that jutted up to the opening that would become the landing. The shooter obviously could tell where Tucker was, too, because the next shot swished in his direction.
Laine nearly shouted for him to stay down, but she didn’t want to risk him answering, since it was clear the shooter was gunning for him.
She tested her legs, and even though she had cuts and bruises, there didn’t seem to be any broken bones, so she started moving. She inched her way along the partial wall, trying not to make a sound.
Above her, she heard Tucker moving again. At least she prayed it was Tucker. This monster could have brought more killers with him, and it was possible he had them close enough to go after Tucker again.
Still listening for any movement from their attacker, Laine reached the end of the wall, and she peered up at the gaping hole above her. It was the edge of the stairwell, and she could just make out Tucker. He had his gun aimed and his foot positioned as if he were about to make his way downstairs.
Laine shook her head, hoping he’d see her. She didn’t want him walking directly toward a killer, and she was certain he was nearby, ready to strike.
But Tucker didn’t stay put.
He paused when he landed on the first step. Paused again as he made his way down.
He was on the third step when the shot zinged through the air.
Even though the gunman was still using a silencer, there was no mistaking that the shooter had been aiming at Tucker, because the bullet bashed into the drywall right next to him, sending powdery dust raining down on her. Since she was dragging in air through her mouth, she dragged that in, too, and had to choke back a cough.
Two more shots came at Tucker. Then in the blink of an eye, the shooter’s direction changed.
The bullets started coming at her.
They went right through the drywall. Right at her. Laine was forced to scramble deeper into the house so she wouldn’t be hit.
There was no light in this part of the structure because of the exterior wall and floor above, so she crashed into some tools. The clanging noise was practically deafening.
But not loud enough for Laine to miss the sound of footsteps.
These weren’t coming from the stairs where she’d last seen Tucker. They were coming from behind her.
Laine didn’t bolt, though she had to hold herself back from doing just that. It was too dark for her to see much of anything, and if she ran, she could land right in the arms of a killer.
She felt around on the floor and located a screwdriver from the toppled tool case. It wasn’t much of a weapon, but it was better than nothing. So was the long nail she snatched up. Holding the screwdriver like a knife, Laine eased up a little, trying to sort through the murky shadows and spot the killer.
Nothing.
No footsteps, either, though it was hard to hear with her own heartbeat crashing in her ears.
“Laine?” Tucker said again.
It wasn’t a shout, but rather a whisper. She couldn’t pinpoint his exact position, but it sounded as if he was still near the stairs. It definitely hadn’t been Tucker’s footsteps that she’d heard earlier.
And that meant their attacker had moved closer.
Laine tried not to make a sound. Hard to do, though, since she was breathing through her mouth. She clamped her teeth over her bottom lip, prayed and glanced around, looking for the monster who’d put them in the middle of this nightmare.
Another sound.
More footsteps.
Definitely coming from the stairs. Either their attacker was going after Tucker or Tucker was trying to make his way downstairs to her.
Again, she nearly called out to warn him not to do anything that could get him killed, but the debate came to a crashing halt when she heard the next sound.
It was close.
Too close.
She reeled around, prepared to use the screwdriver to defend herself, but she didn’t get the chance. Someone from behind her knocked the screwdriver from her hand, hooked an arm around her neck and dragged her to her feet.
Laine wasn’t able to fight off the attack before she felt the barrel of a gun against her head.
* * *
TUCKER HEARD LAINE’S GASP, and he figured that wasn’t a good sign.
With his gun ready, he inched down the stairs. His instincts were yelling for him to get to her—fast—but it wouldn’t help either of them for him to go charging into a situation that could get them both killed.
He reached the bottom step, his gaze slashing from one side of the building to the other. No sign of the shooter or Laine. But he could hear her.
Quick jolts of breath.
She was obviously terrified, and that got him hurrying.
Tucker had to get to her.
With his shooting wrist bracketed with his hand, he moved to the left side of the stairs, keeping cover behind a
stack of building materials. Tucker’s heart went to the floor. He’d found Laine all right, and she was alive.
For now.
But she might not be for long if Tucker didn’t do something. The dirtwad holding a gun to her head could pull the trigger and kill her with one shot.
“Let her go,” Tucker ordered. He couldn’t see the person because of the spotty darkness, but he was pretty sure it was a man.
Maybe Hague or Darren.
However, it could also be just another hired gun like Buford. If so, then Rhonda could be calling the shots—literally.
Tucker inched closer but stopped when the person jammed the gun harder against Laine’s head. He had no trouble seeing her face. The ghost-white moon seemed to land on her like a spotlight, and he could see the absolute terror in her eyes.
He could also see something else.
She wasn’t surrendering. No, there was plenty of fight left in her body, and that could be a bad thing. He didn’t want her fighting back.
Not now, anyway.
After all, if this creep had wanted her dead, he would have already shot her. Tucker, too. And he hadn’t fired a shot. That meant he wanted something from both of them, and Tucker got a good idea of what that was when the man started to drag her back, deeper into the shadows.
He was kidnapping Laine.
“Stop,” Tucker warned him. He tested his theory that this guy wanted him alive by taking one step out from cover. He could always dive back if the creep fired.
But he didn’t.
“What do you want with us?” Tucker demanded.
Silence.
The guy just kept moving, although Laine wasn’t exactly cooperating. She was struggling. Well, she was until the guy whispered something in her ear. That stopped her. She practically froze. And there was probably only one reason for her to do that.
Her attacker had threated to shoot Tucker.
And he might try. But Tucker didn’t have any plans for Laine and him to die tonight. Or for Laine to be kidnapped by this trigger-happy nut job.
He hadn’t seen any unusual vehicles parked around the house or the ranch, but that didn’t mean this man didn’t have a car stashed somewhere. If he managed to get Laine away from there, God knew what he would do to her.
“You know I’m not just going to let you take her,” Tucker said, moving right along with them. “Just tell me what you want, and we can settle this right here, right now.”
Still nothing.
Hard to bargain with the devil when he didn’t know what the devil wanted. Of course, as long as he stayed quiet, Tucker didn’t know who he was dealing with. It could be either Darren or Hague, trying to conceal their identity.
So far, it was working.
The man dragged her toward one of the spaces where the windows would soon be. Right now, they were just giant holes, with plenty of space for someone to slip through. And that was obviously the plan, because while keeping a firm grip on Laine, he ducked down a little.
Just enough for the moonlight to glint across his face.
Martin Hague.
Tucker cursed. Hague wouldn’t exactly have been a formidable foe, if he hadn’t been armed. But that gun was the ultimate equalizer. Desperation, too. Tucker was betting Hague must have been desperate to come to the McKinnon ranch and pull a stunt like this.
“He told me he wouldn’t hurt you if I go with him,” Laine said.
“Yeah, right,” Tucker mumbled. “I’m thinking Hague’s not a credible source when it comes to a comment like that.”
Judging from Laine’s expression, she wasn’t buying it, either, but she didn’t exactly have a lot of options. She wasn’t armed, and even though Hague wasn’t a hulking brute like Buford, he was still bigger and stronger than her.
“Buford’s dead,” Tucker told Hague, just in case he didn’t know.
But obviously he did. There was still enough moonlight for Tucker to see that Hague didn’t even react to that. Too bad. Tucker had hoped it would shake him up enough to make a mistake. Any mistake.
All Tucker needed was one clean shot.
“You killed Buford,” Tucker concluded. “He was your own hired gun, and you made sure he was dead.”
Hague didn’t confirm or deny that. He just kept moving. A few more steps and he’d be at the window. If Tucker couldn’t talk him out of this before then, he’d have to take drastic measures.
Anything to stop Hague from leaving with Laine.
“I’m figuring you told Buford to set the explosives,” Tucker went on, hoping anything he said would slow the guy down or distract him. “They were small enough for him to have carried them in his pocket when he was running from the deputy and into my house. But he didn’t know you’d already given him poison that would kill him.”
Again, Hague didn’t confirm it. Not verbally, anyway. But he clearly wasn’t surprised by anything Tucker had said.
“What was Buford going to do—blackmail you or something?” Tucker asked. “Or maybe you were worried about that plea deal he tried to make before all hell broke loose.”
“Maybe,” Hague mumbled.
Since it was the first thing Hague had said to him since the whole ordeal had started, Tucker figured he’d hit a nerve. He took another swing at it.
“When you deal with criminals, it shouldn’t surprise you when one tries to backstab you. You hired Buford, Hines and the other gunmen. So what happened? Did Buford want more money from you to keep his mouth shut and to take the plea deal off the table?”
“Don’t know why you’d care,” Hague snarled.
“I care because I’m wearing a badge. And because you’re holding an innocent woman at gunpoint.”
“She’s not innocent!” Another nerve.
But Tucker didn’t like the result of this one that he’d managed to hit.
“She started all of this by sticking her nose where it didn’t belong,” Hague grumbled. “She should have never shown up at the baby farm.”
True, but if she hadn’t, the twins might not have been rescued. Of course, Laine was paying a high price for saving them, and Tucker didn’t doubt that she’d pay the ultimate price if it came down to it. There were a lot of lawmen who weren’t as brave as she was.
Hague’s grip tightened on Laine’s neck, and he dug the gun deeper into her temple. She made a sound of pain that she clearly tried to bite back. No doubt so it wouldn’t send Tucker into a rage. He wanted to think he wouldn’t do that, but it was Laine at the end of that gun barrel.
Laine made another small sound when Hague jerked her back, putting her in a choke hold. Tucker heard the sound of pain loud and clear, and it ate away at him. Hell. He couldn’t let Hague keep hurting her like this.
“Laine isn’t the reason your baby farm was closed down,” Tucker went on, though he figured it wouldn’t do any good. Still, he had to try. “You were breaking the law, and she was only doing her job.”
“She got in the way,” Hague fired back. “And now I’ll use her to fix what she messed up.”
That put some ice in his blood. “Use her how?”
“You’ll soon find out.” Hague lifted his left leg and put it through the window slot. “I’ll be in touch with the ransom demand.”
“What ransom?” Tucker snapped.
“The one you’ll pay if you want to get her back alive.”
Part of him wanted to believe this was for real, that Hague had no plans to kill them, that he could be appeased with just money. But Tucker couldn’t see how that would happen. Both Laine and he were loose ends, and even though he didn’t know Hague’s plan, he wouldn’t want to leave witnesses like them behind.
“Tell your brother and any of the others to back off,” Hague warned him. “If they don’t, I’ll hurt Laine.”
“Tell them!” Hague repeated, shouting this time. Mercy, the man was quickly losing control of his icy composure.
Not good.
Because in a fit of temper, Hague could start a gunfight that would get Laine killed.
“Colt, hold your fire,” Tucker called out.
Maybe his brother was close enough to hear him, and if he was, perhaps Colt would indeed hold his fire, unless he had the perfect kill shot aimed at Hague. That wouldn’t be easy with the darkness and with Hague gripping Laine so close to him. Still, it could happen, and Tucker had to hold on to that thought like a lifeline.
“I’m sorry,” Laine said, and Tucker knew she was talking to him.
He gave her his best flat bad-boy look to let her know an apology would just piss him off. But the look fell short when he saw her moving her left hand.
And Tucker saw what she was holding.
A nail.
Laine gave him a slight nod, and he knew then that she was about to do something that was a thousand steps past being dangerous.
“No,” Tucker mumbled.
But it was too late.
Tucker saw Laine draw back her hand and jam the nail into the side of Hague’s thigh. Before the man could even react—or pull the trigger—Tucker did the only thing he could do.
He launched himself at Hague and prayed he would be able to stop him in time.
Chapter Eighteen
It was all a blur of sounds and movements for Laine.
Hague howled in pain, cursing her in the same breath, and she felt his hand tense on the gun. Laine braced herself for him to pull the trigger.
But he didn’t get the chance to do that.
Hague was already off balance with his one leg out the window opening, but his precarious position got significantly worse when Tucker rammed full force into them.