Before Harlan could stop him, Farris ripped out of Harlan’s grip and, screaming, lunged for Caitlyn.
Just as a shot blasted the night air.
* * *
THE SHOT CAME so close to Caitlyn’s right ear that she felt the heat from the bullet. And the deafening noise. God, it was awful. The pain stabbed through her head, and she would have fallen to her knees if Curtis hadn’t kept a death grip choke hold around her neck.
But Farris was the one who dropped to his knees.
With his gaze frozen on her, he slipped to the ground. “I’ll always love you,” Farris said.
Even though the pain made everything sound like a roar, she somehow managed to hear the words. Sickening words from a sick man.
Farris reached out as if he might try to touch her, but Curtis kicked at him, his boot connecting with Farris’s hand. Grunting in pain, Farris pulled back his hand and clutched it to his chest.
Where the bullet had slammed into him.
“Goodbye, Caitlyn,” Farris mumbled, and he slumped into a heap.
Caitlyn didn’t have to feel his pulse to know he was dead. She could see it on his now lifeless face. There was no way she could feel sorry for him. Not after everything he’d done, but she was also painfully aware that the biggest threat wasn’t Farris.
But rather Curtis.
Now that he’d killed Farris and confessed to Sherry’s murder, there was no way he’d let them walk out of there alive. Of course, there was no way she and Harlan would just stand by while he shot them either. But Curtis was the one with the gun.
There was a rustling sound to her left, and while keeping her firmly in his grip, Curtis pivoted in that direction. Harlan moved, too. Toward his gun on the ground next to Farris.
“If you pick it up, she dies,” Curtis warned him.
Harlan stopped, but the rustling sound didn’t.
“Henry?” Curtis called out.
“Not Henry,” the person answered.
Slade.
Caitlyn felt instant relief followed by instant fear. Slade sounded close. Very close. And that meant he could be hurt. It was bad enough that she and Harlan were in danger—Declan, too—but she didn’t want to add any more of Harlan’s family members to the mix.
“Who are you?” Curtis demanded.
“Marshal Slade Becker. And I’m guessing you’re about to be dead.”
That didn’t help with her fear. Yes, Slade was likely a good shot, but Curtis’s gun was still pressed right to her head. Worse, at any second he could turn that gun on Harlan.
Curtis dragged her toward a tree until his back was right up against it. That would make it much harder for Slade to get off a shot.
And that meant this was likely a standoff.
“Where’s Declan?” Harlan called out to his brother. He didn’t take his attention off her, and his body was in a position as if he was primed and ready for a fight.
“Safe and with Clayton. He’s a little groggy from being drugged, but he’ll be okay. We’ve cuffed the kidnapper.”
Caitlyn had no idea if that was true, but prayed it was, because it meant Curtis had no backup.
Curtis reacted to what Slade had said by cursing and digging the gun barrel into the side of her head. She felt the skin break and the sting of pain. Felt the warm blood, too.
But the worst was seeing Harlan’s reaction.
Anger seemed to jolt through his entire body, and she shook her head, praying he wouldn’t do anything that would get him killed.
“They found a guy at the morgue, and he had a bag of explosives with him,” Slade continued, his voice calm as if discussing the weather. “I’m guessing so he could blow up the place with Sherry’s body inside. The sheriff called in a SWAT team and they have him surrounded.”
“Shut up!” Curtis yelled. He cursed and shoved her forward. “Caitlyn’s coming with me, and you’ll both back off because if you don’t, she dies.”
This couldn’t play out in her favor. Either Harlan would get shot trying to stop Curtis, or if Curtis did manage to take her, she wouldn’t live long. She, Harlan and now Slade were the ultimate loose ends.
Maybe even Declan, too.
She had to do something to stop this from becoming worse than it already was. But what? Hard to do much of anything when she didn’t have a weapon and Curtis was bigger and stronger than she was.
“I’ll go with him.” She kept her gaze pinned to Harlan when she said that and hoped he would get out of the way when Curtis started shooting.
And he would shoot.
Maybe in the next second or two. He was probably counting on the shots to draw out Slade, since Harlan’s brother wouldn’t be able to return fire as long as she was Curtis’s human shield.
“I’m going to hold you to that dinner date,” Caitlyn added.
She saw surprise flash through Harlan’s eyes, and she also felt Curtis move the gun away from her head.
Mercy.
He was taking aim at Harlan.
Harlan reacted, already moving down and to the side. Or rather trying to do that so he could scoop up his gun. But she knew there wasn’t enough time, because Curtis already had him in his sights.
Caitlyn screamed at the top of her lungs and twisted her body so that she could shove her side against Curtis. It didn’t knock him down, but it did cause his hand to move at the exact moment that he pulled the trigger.
The bullet flew past Harlan and smacked into the tree next to him.
Harlan didn’t waste any time, and he didn’t stoop to pick up his gun. He came right at them, looking very much like a linebacker going after an opposing player. Caitlyn tried to grab Curtis’s hand to stop him from firing again.
But she failed.
Curtis pulled the trigger not once but twice, both shots blasting so close to her ear that it drowned out all other sounds. Including whatever Harlan said to her. While he ran toward them, she saw his mouth moving, almost as if he were speaking in slow motion, but she couldn’t make out a word.
But she sure felt the impact of Harlan tackling Curtis.
Harlan was a big man, and all those solid muscles plowed right into them. All three went to the ground so hard that Caitlyn could have sworn she saw stars. The pain would have been well worth it.
If Curtis hadn’t managed to get off another shot.
Caitlyn couldn’t see where the bullet landed, but she prayed it hadn’t hit Harlan.
She rammed her elbow into Curtis’s stomach and felt the small victory when he yelped in pain. But her victory was short-lived, because he fired again.
And then he bashed the gun against the side of her head.
It was as if her brain exploded, and Caitlyn had no choice but to quit fighting. The only thing she could do was try to get out of the mix so she’d have a better chance of grabbing that gun from Curtis.
She twisted and turned. Tried to maneuver her body to the side. But she was pinned between them, and she caught the blows coming from both men’s fists. It was obvious that Harlan was trying to fight around her, but Curtis kept shoving her right at Harlan’s fist.
Caitlyn felt a hard jolt, and for a moment she thought she’d been punched again. But this was no punch. Someone took her by the shoulder, his grip hard and bruising, and he yanked her from the middle of the fight. She caught a glimpse of Slade’s face before he slung her on the ground behind him and went after Curtis.
Not that Harlan needed his help.
With her out of the way, Harlan clamped on to Curtis’s right wrist and slammed his hand against the tree. The gun finally went flying. But before it even fell, Harlan landed a crushing blow to Curtis’s jaw. His head flopped back and his body went limp.
Caitlyn’s vision was still blurred from the punches she’d taken. H
er hearing sucked, too, because of the bullets fired so close to her ear. But she could see and hear enough to know that this fight was over. Farris was dead and Harlan hauled Curtis to his feet and bashed him into the tree.
Slade pulled a pair of plastic cuffs from his pocket and used them to restrain the man.
“I’ll transport him in my vehicle and call the sheriff to see if they have the situation at the morgue contained,” Slade volunteered. He looked back at her. “You okay?”
“Fine,” she lied. She tried to get up, but her legs were just too wobbly. Caitlyn decided to sit there for a few seconds and catch her breath.
The danger had passed, yes, but it would take a lifetime or two to forget how close they’d all come to dying tonight.
“You should probably run her by the hospital,” Slade suggested to Harlan.
Harlan’s gaze snapped to her, and she could have sworn the color drained from his face. She must have looked pretty bad for him to have that reaction, and he hurried to help her to her feet.
“Were you shot?” But he didn’t wait for her to answer. He shoved her hair from her face and looked her over.
“Not shot,” she assured him. However, her panic soon mimicked his when she saw the blood trickling down the side of his head. “Were you?”
He shook his head, snapped her to him and hugged her. It was a little too hard, considering that every part of her was hurting, but Caitlyn didn’t pull away. That hug was exactly what she needed.
“This isn’t over,” Curtis snarled. The look he gave them all could have frozen Hades.
“Sure looks like it’s over to me,” Harlan snarled right back.
Slade grabbed Curtis and got him moving.
“If you arrest me, he dies,” Curtis shouted over his shoulder.
That stopped Slade in his tracks, and he turned and stared at the man. “What the hell does that mean?”
Harlan moved closer, and because he still had her in his grip, Caitlyn got her legs working so she could move, too. This was probably some last-ditch ploy from Curtis to get them to release him, but Caitlyn was positive that wasn’t going to happen. Curtis had killed at least two people and had attempted to kill them. The only place he was going was to jail.
But still Curtis smiled.
Definitely not the expression she’d expected, and an icy chill went through her that was bone deep.
“I have an insurance policy.” Curtis’s smile widened. “If you arrest me, he dies.”
No. That icy chill got significantly worse. “Who dies?” Caitlyn managed to ask.
“Kirby, of course. Must have forgotten to mention that I sent a hired gun to the ranch.” Curtis met Harlan’s stare head-on. “And if he doesn’t get a call from me in the next few minutes, his orders are to start shooting.”
Chapter Eighteen
Harlan couldn’t get his body to move fast enough. He whipped out his phone and punched in the number of the ranch office. The chief hand, Cutter, should have answered the landline, but it rang several times before the answering machine kicked in.
Hell.
He tried Wyatt’s cell next because his brother was supposed to be inside the ranch house with Kirby and Stella. But again it rang only once and then went to voice mail.
There could have been a dozen reasons for Wyatt and Cutter not to answer, but Harlan could think of only one very bad one.
The ranch was under attack. His family could need immediate help, and here he was a good forty-five minutes out.
“I’ll phone Sheriff Geary,” Slade volunteered. He kept a firm grip on Curtis and made the call so he could get some backup out to the ranch. Still, it would take the sheriff at least twenty minutes to arrive.
“My hired gun will be mighty hard to see in the dark,” Curtis bragged. “No telling how many places he could hide on a ranch and wait to ambush any- and everyone. You can get all the lawmen you know out there on foot, and it won’t save Kirby because you can’t kill what you can’t see.”
It took every ounce of Harlan’s restraint not to knock this guy’s teeth down his throat. “Call off your man,” Harlan demanded.
“Not a chance.” Any sign of gloating disappeared, and the eyes of a killer stared back at Harlan. “If I have to rot in a jail cell, then it’ll help knowing that you’ve lost someone you love.”
That did it. Harlan caught Curtis’s shoulder and bashed him into a tree. “Call off your man,” he repeated, and to get his point across he gave Curtis another hard knock.
Curtis laughed. “You think I can file charges for brutality? Heck, might even get the case thrown out because you beat a confession out of me.”
Not a chance, and while he would like to add more bruises and maybe a broken bone or two to Curtis’s injuries, it was clear this conversation was getting them nowhere fast.
“The sheriff’s on his way out to the ranch,” Slade relayed to Harlan. “He’ll try to contact Wyatt and the others, too.”
It was a good start, but not nearly good enough. Harlan needed a vehicle, and unfortunately his truck was literally in a bog.
“What about a chopper?” Caitlyn asked. “Do the marshals have one?”
Harlan shook his head. “The nearest one is in San Antonio, and the sheriff doesn’t have one either.” They were looking at an hour, maybe longer because it would take an approval higher than Saul to get a chopper in the air.
Kirby, Stella and God knew who else could be dead by then.
Caitlyn snapped her fingers, took his phone and started punching in numbers. “I’m calling my old boss” was all she said.
Harlan wasn’t sure she’d get anywhere with this call, but one thing good came out of it. For the first time since his arrest, Curtis actually looked concerned that his plan might not work.
“No time to explain,” Caitlyn said the moment her boss answered. She was talking so fast that her words ran together. “But you know all those favors you owe me—well, I’m cashing in. I need the news chopper in the air now. Get it out to the Blue Creek Ranch near Maverick Springs.” She paused. “Yes, that’s the place. Put on the search-and-find lights. There’s a gunman on the loose out there, and people are in danger.”
Harlan hadn’t realized he was holding his breath until she hit the end-call button and handed him back his phone. “He’s on the way out there.”
Good. Though a reporter probably wouldn’t have a way to take out the gunman, at least the lights might help pinpoint the guy’s location.
“My truck’s that way, parked just up the road,” Slade said, tipping his head in that direction and tossing Harlan his keys. “Take Caitlyn with you and leave now. Clayton, Declan and I will take this piece of slime and catch up with you.”
Harlan didn’t refuse his brother’s offer, and even though Caitlyn didn’t appear to be in any shape to run, he didn’t want to leave her alone there with Farris’s body. And he damn sure didn’t want her having to ride back to Maverick Springs with the man who’d just tried to murder her.
“Curtis could be lying,” Caitlyn said when he caught her hand and got them moving.
Yeah. And Harlan had to remind himself that a lone hired gun would be seriously outnumbered by Wyatt and the other ranch hands. Plus, the security system would have alerted them that they had an intruder trying to break into the house.
Well, unless Curtis had somehow managed to take that out, too.
But Harlan didn’t allow himself to go there. He just ran, and when it was clear that Caitlyn wasn’t going to be able to keep up with him, he scooped her up in his arms and ran as fast as he could.
His lungs were burning when he finally reached Slade’s truck, and he practically shoved Caitlyn inside. She clearly had injuries on her face and arms, and he prayed he wasn’t making things worse with his rough treatment.
&nb
sp; “Give me your phone,” she insisted. “I’ll keep calling while you drive.” But she didn’t wait for him to hand her the phone—she yanked it from his pocket.
“Try Dallas first. His number should be in there because I called him earlier.” He started the engine and drove out of there fast.
Thank God there was no traffic at this hour. No rain or fog either. Of course, he’d be driving like a crazy man, so that created more than enough obstacles in their path.
Every passing second seemed to take hours, and with each of those seconds, his worries skyrocketed. Even if Caitlyn and he got there before the gunman could start shooting, that would only put her right back in danger. He couldn’t do that to her, but he had to help his family.
Caitlyn scrolled through the recently called numbers, located Dallas’s and pressed the button. Harlan heard the call go to voice mail. His nerves were already shot, and that sure didn’t help.
“Who should I try next?” she asked.
Harlan mentally went through the possibilities. “Try the house’s landline,” he finally said, and he rattled off the number.
He heard the rings from the other end of the line. And he prayed and waited. He stopped counting at five rings and was ready to tell her to hang up and call someone else. But then Harlan heard a voice.
Stella.
“Who’s there?” Stella demanded.
Caitlyn hit the button to put the call on speaker. “It’s me, Harlan. What’s going on?”
“Maybe some trouble,” the woman immediately answered. Her voice was a whisper. “Somebody set off that new security alarm, and Cutter, Dallas and Wyatt are out there trying to figure who it is.”
So unless this was a horrible coincidence, Curtis hadn’t been bluffing. He had indeed sent someone. Even though he was already speeding, Harlan went even faster, and prayed the miles would disappear between him and the ranch.
“It’s a gunman hired by Curtis Newell,” Harlan told her, “and he has orders to shoot up the place.”
“Great day in the morning.” Stella also mumbled something he didn’t catch. “I doubt Wyatt and the others will answer their phones. Probably got the ringers off. What should I do, Harlan? It’s dark out there, and trying to find a gunman would be like looking for a needle in a haystack.”
OUTLAW LAWMAN Page 18
