Lock, Stock and McCullen (The Heroes of Horseshoe Creek Book 1)

by Rita Herron

  Whose voice was that?

  “Rose...Rose, it’s over. Come out now.”

  Where was Maddox?

  Clenching the umbrella with a white-knuckled grip, she waited, listening to his footsteps as he combed through the house.

  Suddenly the footsteps halted. The house grew eerily quiet. The wind whistled, then the voice again. “Rose...I know where you are now.”

  Trembling, she blinked back tears. He didn’t sound as if he was here to help her. He sounded...like the man who’d called her the night she’d escaped Thad.

  She looked down at the floor and saw a shadow in front of the door. He was outside the closet.

  He jiggled the doorknob, and she tried to hold it shut, but he yanked it open. Light seeped through the cracks, just enough for her to see the outline of his face.

  Except for a brief second, that face was much younger. It was the boy she’d seen outside the window in the swing.

  The one she’d played with as a child.

  “This is where you always liked to hide,” he said. “You were in there that night, weren’t you?”

  “Carl,” she rasped. Carl Redding. “You...were my friend.” Shock strained her lungs. “And your father...he was my father’s friend.”

  Only...now she remembered. She’d thought their parents were friends. But something had changed, they’d argued that night.

  Then he’d shot her parents...

  * * *

  MADDOX STIRRED FROM UNCONSCIOUSNESS, his head throbbing, dirt clogging his throat. He blinked to clear his vision and realized he was lying facedown.

  Where the hell was he?

  He mentally retraced the last few minutes before he’d lost consciousness. He’d been outside Rose’s house near the woods...then someone had shot at him.

  Panic seized him as the truth dawned. Dammit, the shooter had gotten the best of him. And now he was tied up on the floor of some...shed.

  Did the shooter have Rose now?

  He lifted his head and searched the darkness. His pulse pounded at the sight of a body in the corner. He watched to see if the man moved, but judging from the stench emanating from him, he was dead.

  Adrenaline surged through him, and he tried to push himself up, but his hands were bound behind his back, his feet tied. His head throbbed, and he spit blood from where he must have bitten his tongue when he was attacked.

  He had to get to Rose.

  He visually scanned the dark space, searching for an escape route. Old gardening tools had been jammed to one side. A workbench occupied another corner. A hoe stood by the door.

  If he could get to that door, maybe he could get out and save Rose.

  He looked around in search of his phone or gun, but they were nowhere to be seen.

  Frustration fueled his anger, and he used his elbows to drag himself across the floor. Wood splintered and cracked beneath him as his weight pressed against the loose boards, but he inched forward until he reached the hoe. Beside it, he spotted a small rake, and twisted sideways in an attempt to use it like a knife to cut the ropes on his hands.

  He tried sawing back and forth, but the ropes were thick, the blade of the rake dull. He twisted and turned his hands, yanking at the ropes, but they were tied so tightly he couldn’t budge the knot.

  The need to hurry gnawed at him as he searched for another tool to free himself. He didn’t see anything, so he decided to crawl over to the dead man. If he hadn’t been here long, maybe he had a phone or something sharp in his pocket.

  Of course if he had, he probably would have used it to escape himself.

  Still, he dragged himself toward the body, forcing himself to breathe out so he wouldn’t gag, as the stench of death grew stronger.

  Outside, a scream pierced the air.

  Maddox froze, his blood turning cold.

  Rose...

  God, what was that maniac doing to her?

  He moved as quickly as he could, gritting his teeth at the foul odor. The whites of the man’s eyes bugled in the dark, and blood had dried on his mouth.

  Good God. It was Marshal Norton.

  Maddox twisted sideways, determined to search his pocket, but his hand touched something sticky—more blood?

  Another scream from outside sent his heart into panic mode.

  The scent of smoke wafted through the shed, and he heard wood crackling. Smoke seeped through the cracks and filled the shed, and Maddox cursed.

  If he didn’t get untied, he was going to burn in here alive.

  Then Rose would be at the mercy of the man who wanted her dead...

  * * *

  ROSE CRIED OUT in horror as Carl spread gas along the shed and lit a match. He’d already burned down her house. Killed the Worthingtons.

  And her parents...no, his father had done that....

  She struggled with the ropes binding her arms and feet as he shoved her in the backseat of the sedan.

  “You can’t just leave him here to die,” Rose shouted. “And there’s a marshal after you. He’ll figure out who you are.”

  A sinister laugh rumbled from him. “That marshal won’t be a problem anymore,” he said. “He’s in there with your cowboy cop.”

  Horror washed over Rose at his words and the flames sprouting up at the door to the shed. If Maddox didn’t die of smoke inhalation first, he’d burn to death.

  “You hired Thad to kill me? What was your connection to him?”

  Carl made a low sound in his throat. “We met in the service and kept in touch.” A sinister smile tugged at his mouth. “Thad was a natural sniper. Amazing how he enjoyed the work when I couldn’t wait to get out.”

  “You rescued him after I shot him,” Rose said, piecing together the facts. “You helped clean up the cabin and got him medical care, didn’t you?”

  Carl shrugged. “What else could I do? He hadn’t finished the job.”

  Rose’s head reeled. “And your father had connections to get him treated for the gunshot wound?”

  “Actually I took care of it,” Carl said. “I was a medic in the military.”

  “If you saved people then, how can you kill me now?”

  His eyes narrowed, turmoil darkening them. “It’s not what I wanted, Rose. But my family will lose everything if I don’t.” He stiffened. “In the military, I was taught to do what I had to do to protect my country. And my country is my family.”

  She would admire his loyalty if it wasn’t so misplaced.

  “Please, Carl, let me go.”

  “I can’t do that, Rose.” He reached for her again, but she lunged toward the door to jump out.

  He raised the pistol and whipped her across the face. Pain slammed into her jaw and screamed through her head, and she fell backward into the seat.

  Back into the dark.

  Some time later Rose woke to the rumbling of the car. It bounced over a rut, gravel churning, then she slid sideways as they swerved to the right and the car barreled up a hill.

  She had no idea how long they’d been traveling or where they were.

  Fear choked her. Though she remembered seeing Carl light the shed on fire, was it possible Maddox had escaped? Or was he...dead?

  The car screeched to a stop, and she pitched forward and nearly fell to the floor, but caught herself with her feet. Before she could sit up, Carl swung the back door open and dragged her out of the car. She kicked and struggled, but he shook her hard.

  “There’s no use fighting, Rose. Cooperate and I might let you live.”

  “Like you did the Worthingtons?”

  “All they had to do was tell me where the money was.”

  “What money?” Rose cried.

  “The money they stole from my father.”

  Rose’s pulse stuttered. “I don’t believe you.”

  Carl grabbed her arm and yanked her toward a rustic-looking cabin nestled in the woods by the river. Deep pockets of rocks and boulders made up the rugged landscape, hiding the location.

  He shoved her forward,
pushing her over the rugged terrain until they reached the cabin, then he forced her inside. Rose expected it to be completely rustic inside, but the place actually looked nice, homey, lived-in.

  Not a place to die at the hands of a cold-blooded killer.

  He shoved her onto the floor by the fireplace.

  Adrenaline spiked her anger. “Why didn’t you just leave me there to die with Maddox?”

  “Because you know too much. You saw my father that night with your parents.”

  “He shot them. But I don’t understand why.”

  “It was your father’s fault.” Carl began to pace in front of the fireplace, his face tight with agitation.

  “How was it his fault?”

  Carl glared at her. “My father was the head of a drug company. Your dad worked for him.”

  That part of the past was a blur. Then again, she’d been only four at the time, Carl older, maybe eight.

  “What happened?”

  Carl slumped onto the couch to face her, his hand still clenching the gun. “My father patented a new drug they’d been testing for mood disorders, but your father found flaws in the study. Hell, he was an accountant. He wasn’t supposed to look into the research at all. The company was about to go public with this new drug, and Dad would have lost a fortune if your father had questioned it.”

  “So your dad was going to sell a drug under false pretenses?” Rose said, not bothering to hide the derision from her voice.

  “Dad planned to rectify the problems after the deal went through, but your father threatened to blow the whistle. So my father offered your dad a big payout to keep quiet.”

  Nausea bubbled in Rose’s throat. “My father took a bribe to keep quiet?”

  “It was a lot of money,” Carl said. “I guess he wanted to be able to take care of you and your mother.”

  “If my dad took the money, why did your father kill him?”

  Carl vaulted to his feet, then scraped a hand through his hair, agitated. “What difference does it make now?”

  “You and your father destroyed my life,” Rose said. “At least I deserve to know the whole story before I die.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Maddox crawled toward the door, then managed to get up on his knees and push against it with his body, hoping to open it. But it didn’t budge.

  He staggered as smoke choked him, but mustered up all his strength and rammed the door with his shoulder. The wood cracked, but felt hot.

  Dammit, the boards were rotting and would catch fast.

  Was there another way out?

  He shuffled toward the back, but the ropes around his feet made him clumsy and he fell. Cursing, he shoved himself back up to his feet and made it a little farther, when the front side of the shed erupted into flames.

  Knowing he needed to hurry, he scooted as fast as he could, but when he managed to reach the wall, he didn’t see another door.

  Frustration made him twist and jerk at the ropes, but nothing worked, and the smoke was growing thicker, the smell of burning wood becoming stronger as heat seared his skin.

  Rose’s sweet face the night before when they’d made love taunted him. She was too beautiful to die.

  Rage churned through him, and he banged against a loose board in the wall. He used his shoulder to ram it over and over until the wood splintered. He slammed it again, hitting it with as much force as he could, then again until he busted through the wood.

  Loose boards scratched his face as he dove to the ground below, and he rolled across the ground to put some distance between him and the shed. Flames shot from the structure and smoke curled into the sky.

  The sound of a motor rumbling broke into the night, then headlights dotted the dirt. A van barreled over the terrain and roared to a stop.

  Hoberman and the CSI team piled out. Relieved to see them, Maddox crawled to his knees and yelled Hoberman’s name. “I’m over here!”

  The sound of wood burning and popping filled the air, drowning out his voice.

  He staggered as he tried to stand and shuffled to the right in the clearing so Hoberman could see him. “Over here! Untie me!”

  Hoberman jogged toward him. “What happened?”

  “Marshal Norton is dead inside. Another man ambushed us. He took Rose. We have to hurry!”

  Hoberman made quick work of untying the ropes. “Where were they going?”

  “I don’t know.” Maddox gestured toward the burning shed. “Marshal Norton’s body is in there.” Maddox headed back toward the building. “I’ve got to get him out.”

  “Wait, McCullen, a fire engine is on its way.”

  But Maddox ran toward the shed and tore through the back. Flames were spreading along the floor toward the body, but he yanked the man by the feet and dragged him to the edge, where he’d splintered the wood. Hoberman rushed to help him, and they hauled the man through the hole in the wall and dragged him near the river.

  The wail of a siren screamed, coming closer, and one of Hoberman’s team approached them. “They’ll work on the fire. What do you want us to do?”

  Maddox wiped sweat and soot from his face with his sleeve. “This is the house where Rose lived until she was four. Her parents were shot inside. I need you to process it for prints, DNA, whatever forensics you can find. Everything that’s happened is connected to those murders.”

  “We’ll get right on it.” The team retrieved their crime kits and strode toward the old house.

  Maddox kneeled beside the body. “I’m going to call the Marshals Service and see what I can find out. Norton must have stumbled on to the truth, and the killer got worried he was going to get caught.”

  He just wished to hell he knew what that truth was.

  Maybe someone at the Marshals Service did.

  He punched the number, identified himself and explained that he’d found Marshal Norton dead. “It’s important I talk to someone who knows about the case he was working on,” Maddox said. “The suspect has taken a hostage. Finding him is the only way to save the woman’s life.”

  * * *

  “IT WAS YOUR mother’s fault,” Carl told Rose.

  Rose glared at him. “You’re blaming my mother because your father was a liar and planned to cheat people.”

  “I told you my father was going to fix the problem with the drug. But your mother found out about the deal and convinced your father to go to the police. When Dad confronted him, they fought and the gun went off. Your mother tried to break it up, and they fought, too, and...he shot her.”

  Carl’s voice cracked. “Dad didn’t go there to kill them. He only wanted to stop them from ruining the deal.”

  “It doesn’t justify murder,” Rose said, seething.

  Carl threw his hands up, his voice angry. “I told you it was an accident.”

  “I saw him yank my mother by the hair and put the gun to her head,” Rose shouted. “That was no accident. And he would have killed me if he’d found me. But the police showed up and saved me, and then the Worthingtons kidnapped me and ran.”

  “Yeah, he was on their tail, but they had an accident and you all wound up in the hospital. With all the staff around, he couldn’t get near you.”

  Norton had mentioned the accident. She rubbed the scar again. That was when she’d gotten the scar.

  “So your father has been looking for them ever since?”

  “At first he did, but when they didn’t come forward and you didn’t remember, he let it go. He thought it was all right.”

  Rose twisted, sickened by what he was saying. They had played together as children yet she didn’t know this man. “So why come after me now?”

  Carl paced again, one hand running back and forth over his neck, the other waving the gun. “Because Dad is about to be honored with a humanitarian award for his work.”

  Reality dawned, ugly and cold. “And he was afraid I’d recognize him and destroy his career.”

  “He did good work,” Carl shouted. “He fixed the problems wit
h that original drug and took care of the side effects.”

  “And paid anyone who’d suffered from the side effects to keep quiet?” Rose asked.

  Carl shrugged. “I told you he did good things. He shouldn’t have to pay for a mistake he made when he was young. But that damned Marshal Norton, he came around asking questions. For some reason, he decided to look into the old case, your parents’ case, because that flyer of you on the milk carton surfaced. When he showed up at my father’s asking questions, he got nervous. If the marshal convinced the Worthingtons to come forward with the truth, he would have been exposed.”

  “Your father ruined all our lives—mine, my parents’, the Worthingtons’—because of his lies and greed,” Rose cried. “He committed murder, and now you have blood on your hands. The blood of that marshal, and the Worthingtons.” And maybe Maddox’s.

  God, she hoped he wasn’t dead...

  Carl scrubbed his hand through his hair. “I won’t let you or anyone else ruin our family’s name and what my father has built.”

  “Because you’re a selfish, greedy bastard,” Rose said in disgust. Confusion swirled in her head. “You have plenty of money. So why would you care about the money you claim my father took?”

  “Because it links your parents’ murder back to my father. If that marshal found that out, so could someone else.”

  “How could they link cash back to him?”

  “It wasn’t just cash,” Carl growled. “Your father had a tape of their conversation. He put the money with that tape for safekeeping, but that night he refused to reveal where he’d hidden it.”

  Rose couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact that her father had practically blackmailed Carl’s dad. But if she found that tape she’d have proof that Mr. Redding had murdered her parents.

  Carl waved the gun at her again. “Where is it, Rose? I turned that old house inside out searching for it. And it wasn’t at the Worthingtons’.” He leaned over, hands on his knees, and pushed his face into hers. “Where is it, Rose? Where would your father have hidden it? Did you have a special toy that he could have hidden the tape inside?”

  A toy? A vision of her stuffed animals torn apart with the stuffing spilling out flashed back. Had Carl split them open in search of the tape and the money? “If he did, I didn’t know anything about it.”