Cowboy In The Crossfire

by Robin Perini

  Amanda had seen Blake angry and frustrated, but she'd never seen the fury vibrating from within in quite this way. He paced the floor like a caged animal, stopping beside Leo, who lay huddled against the wall.

  Blake looked up at the ceiling, his fists white with tension. He took one shuddering breath, then another. She wouldn't have been surprised if he shoved his fist through the wall, but he just stood there, shaking, lines of pain etched in his face.

  "I need to get out of here," he said, his voice soft. "You don't want to be around me right now."

  "Don't push me away." Amanda struggled to stand, swaying slightly. She eased to him. He needed her. She didn't know what she could do, but she could be there for him.

  "Amanda--" he warned.

  She pressed against his body and wrapped her arms around him. "Let me be here for you."

  "I shouldn't have left her." Blake's tortured expression broke her heart. "When you told me about Kathy and Joey, I should have gotten her out of town."

  "You didn't know where this would lead. Neither of us did."

  "From the day I turned eighteen, I promised my dad that if anything happened to him I'd always take care of her. And I left her. I knew they would do anything. I should've sent you both away. I should have protected you all. I let this happen."

  Amanda lifted her face to his, her chin resting on his sweater. "I'm sorry."

  He paused and stared down at her, his gaze clearing for a moment. "This isn't your fault."

  The agony on his face broke her heart, but she could say nothing.

  "I can't believe she's gone."

  He buried his face in her hair, his body shuddering. He squeezed her and she hugged him, stroking his back, whispering to him, holding him tight.

  Eventually, after what seemed like hours, he raised his head, his eyes blazing. "I'll make them pay for this. Once we get Ethan back, they'll wish they'd never hurt you or my family."

  * * *

  THE DRAGONS ETCHED on the lieutenant's boots gave Johnson the creeps. They always had.

  "You killed her?" the lieutenant said. "In another burning building?"

  The cold look in their boss's eyes froze Johnson in place, a chill of foreboding settling over his heart.

  "Blake needed to be taught a lesson." Farraday, his partner, crossed his arms in challenge and faced down the man who'd recruited them. He didn't seem fazed. Didn't seem to mind the lieutenant's anger at all.

  Fool.

  "You screwed up!" The lieutenant strode to Farraday and grabbed his collar, looked at him in disgust and shoved him away. "I had a plan. A sophisticated plan. We hunt down the murderer of one of our own--his sister--and the sheriff who helped her escape. An ex-Austin cop who we couldn't prove was corrupt, but now we have the evidence. They were killed in the crossfire, and we're devastated because her innocent five-year-old son was killed, too." The lieutenant smiled. "It was perfect. Until you had to go off on your own and try to get creative."

  He paced back and forth. "Now it looks suspicious. The brass at Internal Affairs is curious. That bastard, Shaun O'Connor is getting close, and I can't block the investigation any longer without raising suspicion. Because you were too obvious, Farraday. A helicopter? Real subtle. You're leading them to us."

  Farraday shrugged. "I'll figure a way out of it."

  The lieutenant picked up the Colt .45 Farraday had stolen from the hotel room. He weighed the weapon in his hands.

  Oh, man. Johnson wanted to run, but his feet couldn't move. He'd seen that expression before. Once before. When he'd found out Vince was working with O'Connor.

  The lieutenant spun the gun's barrel. "Johnson here said you hurt the Hawthorne woman."

  "She deserved it." Farraday shrugged.

  The lieutenant cocked a brow.

  Farraday shrugged. "Okay, I knocked her around a little. Made my mark. I should have done more. I would have if Johnson hadn't been so squeamish."

  "At least Johnson is smart enough to be scared right now. I need Blake and Amanda to bring me that evidence. You just pissed off Blake Redmond. You're a liability, Farraday."

  The lieutenant pulled back the hammer on the Colt. He lifted Blake's weapon and before the cop could speak, took the head shot.

  The explosion sent brains spewing across the room.

  "I don't like stupid people," the lieutenant said. "Leave the mess. We'll pin it on Blake."

  A whimper sounded from the corner. "And shut him up. I have a call to make." He slammed out of the room.

  Johnson looked at his partner's body. Leave it? Did the lieutenant really think he could pin everything on Blake? Johnson grabbed a soda and a candy bar and strode over to the boy, offering it to the scared kid. Ethan shook his head, buried his face in his arms and rocked back and forth. "Go to Blake. Go to Blake," he whispered.

  Johnson didn't like killing old women and kids. Getting a few bad guys put away on less-than-kosher evidence and a few extra bucks for his kids' college funds wasn't worth this.

  His boss poked his head back into the room. "Johnson."

  He slowly turned and raised his gaze to deadly, cold eyes.

  "If you screw up again, I won't be so lenient."

  * * *

  THE HOTEL ROOM HAD closed in on Blake. He wanted to tear West Texas apart and find these guys. He wanted to see his mother's house for himself. He wanted to get Amanda out of this hotel room and far away from here.

  He couldn't do any of it. He was stuck, waiting for the men who'd killed his son and his mother to play cat and mouse.

  Regret suffocated him, smothering his heart. Maybe if he'd brought her with them... No, he couldn't let himself give in to the guilt. Not yet. He had to stay focused. He had to think of Ethan. His mom would have wanted him to save Amanda's son.

  She hovered in the door of the bathroom, her eyes red and haunted, the bruises turning darker with each passing hour.

  To distract himself, he filled another thin washrag with ice. He handed it to her.

  She accepted the ice pack from him and pressed it against the side of her face. "Why won't you talk to me? It's not good to keep it in."

  He gave her a sad smile. "What is there to say? They took Ethan, they killed Mom. Parris is probably dead. Smithson, too. And we have one lead. A pair of boots."

  She set the ice on the bathroom sink and walked over to him. "This isn't your fault."

  "They committed the murders, but I didn't stop them," Blake said softly. He let his hands drift over her soft curls. Why wasn't she railing against him, blaming him for her son? Why was she cuddled against him? It didn't make sense.

  A sharp knock pounded on the door. Blake tensed. He pushed Amanda into the bathroom. A pause, then two more knocks.

  He relaxed a bit. "It's Rafe."

  The ex-Green Beret could take her to safety. Blake would take the ransom call. Then he would finish this.

  With his Glock in one hand, Blake cracked open the door. The man outside nodded slightly, his visible eye studying Blake with a practiced gaze.

  "Blake Redmond?"

  He opened the door and let the other man in. Rafe hauled in a heavy duffel, scanned the room, then stared at Amanda. "Safest place," he said. "In the bathroom."

  "I want you to take her out of here, Rafe. Find a place to hide her."

  "No!" Amanda ran to Blake. "I'm not hiding while Ethan is in danger."

  Blake grabbed her. "I need you safe."

  "Logan ordered me to back you up," Rafe said. "There's at least three of them from what we can tell. Maybe more. You took out two in the chopper. Going in alone is suicide."

  "Gee, thanks, Rafe."

  The man smiled. "You're welcome. Besides, I brought a computer and secure internet access. Zane locked it down tight. They can't track it. Your lady can check out the emails. Maybe unlock that file."

  Blake didn't have much confidence she'd break the code. They needed Ethan for that. Vince knew what he'd done with the file. He didn't leave a message. Ethan was the key.


  Blake forced a look of confidence. "Things are looking up."

  A slight hope entered her eyes. He met Rafe's gaze. The man understood the truth. But at least the computer would keep Amanda occupied. And maybe they'd get lucky.

  "Set it up," Blake ordered Rafe.

  He heaved the duffel onto the bed and unzipped the bag. Blake glanced in and a deadly smile settled in the cold anger of his eyes. "Thank God for firepower."

  "That's not the good stuff," Rafe muttered as he took out the laptop. He pulled out several other electronic devices, too. One he attached to the phone. "This will record any conversations and give us the number and location of the originating call. As long as they're not bouncing signals everywhere."

  "It's so small," Amanda said.

  Rafe handed her the machine and hot spot. "Have at it."

  Blake kept glancing back at her while he and Rafe organized the weapons.

  "How's your focus?" Rafe asked softly.

  Blake pulled a box of ammo for his Glock and set it aside. "I'm fine."

  "I could take lead," Rafe commented. "Logan told me about your mother."

  "Would you let someone else take charge?"

  "Point."

  It didn't take long to organize the ammunition and equipment.

  Rafe settled down in the corner next to Leo and ruffled the dog's ears. "Once we know the plan, I'll find a way to get him to a vet." The dog licked Rafe's hand. "He's a good one."

  "Don't think about it," Blake said. "He belongs to Ethan."

  Amanda's fingers stilled on the keyboard. Blake touched her shoulder and squeezed lightly. She gave him a shallow smile.

  Blake didn't know how long he'd paced when the phone on the bed rang. Amanda looked at it and stilled. She walked over to the bed, her body curved into Blake's.

  He picked up the phone. "Redmond."

  "We have the boy. Bring the evidence and he lives. Play games with us, he dies."

  "How do I know he's okay?" Blake said.

  "You don't." The man laughed. "You'll hear from us." He hung up the phone.

  "Proof of life?" Rafe said as he fiddled with the recorder.

  Blake shook his head.

  "Damn." Rafe turned a few knobs. "Not long enough." He glanced at Amanda. "I'm sorry."

  Amanda sank to her knees. "I couldn't find anything in the emails. They're just jokes and chitchat. What are we going to do?"

  Blake wrapped his arms around her to prop her up. "We'll find him." He glanced at Rafe. "We need a way to open that file."

  "I'll call Zane. Maybe he's figured something out."

  Rafe dialed the computer expert and Blake pulled Amanda aside. "This is good. They'll call back with a location. A meet. We have more than we had before."

  Her distressed expression nearly drained his heart. He could see her desperation to believe, and the fear to allow herself to hope.

  Rafe turned and laid the phone on the bed.

  "I'm here, Rafe," Zane's gruff voice sounded through the phone.

  "They have the boy. They want the evidence. We're out of time."

  The man cursed. "I'm no closer. If I had a week...maybe."

  "Can you tell how many letters or numbers?" Blake asked.

  The sound of clicking keys funneled through the phone. They waited.

  Blake gripped Amanda's hand. "Well?"

  Zane bit out another curse. "Could be four. Could be twenty-four. I can't tell."

  Amanda sank to the floor against the wall, her forehead resting against her knees. He could see the last bit of optimism seeping out of her. "That's it, then," she muttered. "There's not a chance we'll figure out that password."

  "She's right," Rafe said quietly. "Even Zane thinks so."

  Another loud curse sounded through the phone. Rafe picked up the receiver. "Call us when you have something."

  Blake twisted his ball cap around. He looked at Rafe, then Amanda. "Okay, we work with what we have. They want evidence, we'll take them evidence."

  "What are you talking about?" Amanda stared at him as if he'd gone mad.

  Rafe grinned. "I like the way you think, brother."

  * * *

  AMANDA WALKED BY the phone and glared at it. She couldn't stand the waiting. She glanced at Blake. He'd slipped a knife into his boot and practiced again and again pulling the weapon out with ease.

  Most would think he was calm and all business. Not Amanda. She recognized the small tick in his jaw. A small shiver of unease skittered down her spine. He'd been quiet. Too quiet. Not that Blake was overly talkative, but there was a tension in him that made her nervous.

  A sharp knock prevented her from trying to reach out once more to the man she'd come to care for. No. Those words were too small for her feelings. She didn't want to say, much less think, the word though. Too many uncertainties.

  Blake palmed his Glock and peered through the peephole, then opened the door. Rafe walked in with a sack from an office supply store.

  "Did you find a vet?"

  "Leo will be fine. Doc is setting his leg. Doesn't look like internal injuries. He'll be playing with Ethan in no time."

  Rafe pulled out a folder of printed material, graph paper, pencils, pens, markers, file folders and a thumb drive and scattered them on the bed. "Logan sent us the Morelli case. We can dupe the evidence. They were into guns, money laundering, you name it. Not unlike our Austin cops."

  Amanda poked at the papers. "Will it fool them?"

  "Not for long." Blake ripped open the paper. "But we only need a few minutes. Once Rafe's in position, we take out the kidnappers and grab Ethan."

  "It's so risky," Amanda said, leafing through the graph paper.

  "Rafe and I were trained for this. And it's our only option unless you've remembered anything Ethan said that would help us with the password."

  She shook her head in frustration. "What can I do to help?"

  Blake passed her a handwritten spreadsheet. "Re-create this. It's evidence from a money-laundering case. Substitute random words for the names to keep it confusing. I'll package everything I can."

  Amanda took the papers and a pencil and settled on the bed to copy the lines of numbers.

  "I hope the head honcho is in town," Rafe said. "I'd like a shot at him."

  "Not before me," Blake said, his voice cold. "Even if he's not here, when we bring Ethan back to Amanda, he might be able to identify enough cops we can get someone to turn."

  Her pencil stilled. She couldn't have heard them right. She shot to her feet. "Are you crazy? You are not leaving me here."

  "It's too dangerous," Blake said, his voice low and urgent.

  She glanced over at Rafe, who muttered to himself as he organized supplies. She took Blake's hand. "He's my son. I'm going with you."

  "You'll get in the way. If I have to worry about you, I can't concentrate on protecting Ethan." He put his hands on her shoulders. "I can't risk being distracted."

  "What if something happens? There's only two of you."

  "Rafe and I can handle it. One of us will bring Ethan back to you. I promise."

  She leaned her forehead against him. "I have a bad feeling about this. We don't know how many there are. They're ruthless. I can cover you, Blake. Give me a gun. I know how to use it."

  The hotel phone rang.

  Rafe stilled and flipped a switch on the electronics. He nodded to Blake.

  "Redmond."

  "Let me talk to the woman."

  Blake motioned to Amanda. Try to keep them talking, he mouthed and placed an earpiece in his ear.

  "H-hello."

  "You have the evidence?" The man's voice was husky with a hint of a Southern drawl.

  "Y-yes."

  "Where did you find it?"

  "I got an email from Vince. There was a link to a file."

  A low curse sounded from the phone. "Always was a geek," the man muttered. "Bring me the file. I want a hard copy, all electronic copies and the location of the file. Don't try anything funny, or
your son dies."

  Blake grabbed the phone. "Where do you want me to meet you?"

  "Not you, Redmond. Hawthorne's sister. Only her. You bring backup, the boy dies. You call in the Feds, the boy dies."

  "You don't need her. I'll come alone."

  "She won't be able to lie to me." He paused. "And Redmond, we're watching you. We know you've got help in there. If you want to see the kid alive, you'll follow my instructions to the letter. I want to see Amanda Hawthorne at the corner of Main and Third in one hour. She comes alone."

  The phone clicked off.

  Blake slammed the receiver into the cradle.

  "I can't wait to get hold of this guy." Rafe's expression was dark, the patch over his eye making him scary. "They know I'm here. We've lost the element of surprise."

  Amanda walked between the two men. "He's my son. I can do this."

  Blake sighed and lifted her chin. "You're the bravest woman I know, but--"

  "No." She pushed at him. "I can do this. For Ethan."

  A knock sounded at the hotel room door.

  Blake eased toward it gun drawn. Rafe followed. With a quick nod at Amanda, she eased into the entryway of the bathroom. On signal, Blake threw open the door.

  A man stood in the doorway hands in the air, palms outstretched.

  "Johnson?"

  At Blake's incredulous voice, Amanda studied the man's face. He looked like a cop. Definitely.

  "Don't shoot," Johnson said.

  In one sharp move, Blake pinned the man to the open door. He patted him down and removed a knife and gun, handing them to Rafe.

  "Blake, I'm here to help."

  He spun Johnson around. "How did you know we were here?"

  Amanda squinted at the intruder's face, then her gaze raked up and down his clothes. She'd seen them before. The four-leaf clover patch on his sweater's elbow locked her gaze. It was him. It had to be. "Where's my son?" she screamed. "Where's Ethan?" She hurled herself toward him, but Blake held her back with one arm. She strained against his grip. "He took Ethan away."

  Johnson looked right, then left. "I don't have much time. Please, let me in. If only because we were undercover partners. You trusted me once."

  "Obviously a mistake."

  "I can help you get her son back."

  "You have one minute." Blake stepped aside, his Glock pointing at the man's head. "Kidnapping a kid, Johnson? That's lower than the scum you used to arrest."