Texas Holiday Hideout

by Virginia Vaughan

  Miles scrubbed a hand over his jaw. This was getting out of control. He still didn’t want to admit this had been a planned attack against Melissa and Dylan. Something about this incident didn’t sit right with him. If this had been the work of Shearer’s men, why all the drawn-out drama of luring or placing Dylan in that pen? Why not just start shooting and take them both out? This didn’t seem like the tactic of a trained assassin like Richard Kirby, or a mob boss like Max Shearer. But his brother was right. The latch on that gate was high. Too high for Dylan to have opened it himself. And if it had been opened, a three-year-old certainly wouldn’t have closed and latched the gate behind him. Someone had either lured him into that pen, or placed him there and then closed the gate behind them. Hopefully, Dylan would be able to tell them what happened once he calmed down, but it wouldn’t hurt to have this Dr. Singer checked out. “Do you have his contact info?” Josh asked Paul.

  “He gave me his card the first day he arrived. It’s back at the Silver Star, but I believe his offices were on the south end of town right at the county line.”

  “I’ll issue a BOLO for him. If any of my deputies see him, they’ll let me know. I’ll also have Cecile pick up the boys and question them again. I can’t imagine that any of them are involved, but if they were on the property, I want to know for certain that this wasn’t them.”

  “Thanks, Josh.” Miles hated to think that the very kids his brothers were mentoring had a hand in trying to harm Melissa or Dylan, and he couldn’t think of one reason why they would. But he couldn’t discount the fact that they’d been there on the property both times when she’d come close to dying and that they would have had the opportunity to grab Dylan and place him inside that pen. Dylan might not have even cried out if one of them approached him because he’d seen them before.

  All he wanted to know was if whoever had done this was somehow connected to Shearer and if his men had somehow found Melissa.

  Miles’s father took the moment to place his hand on his shoulder. “Don’t you worry, son. We’ll look after Melissa. No one is going to harm her while she’s at the Silver Star.”

  He should have been annoyed at his family’s insistence on butting into his business, but he wasn’t. His dad’s words comforted him and gave him the reassurance he needed that he’d made the right choice in bringing her here. Anyone of his family, including his mother and sister, would protect Melissa and Dylan from any attacks with a fierce determination no bad guy had ever seen before.

  But his train of thought brought him back to the same place. What connection would a group of teenage delinquents or a country veterinarian have with a mob boss or a paid assassin?

  * * *

  Miles helped Melissa into the car. She was still groggy from the pain meds, but they seemed to be helping to make her more comfortable. He assisted buckling her into her seat and she gave him a soft smile. He smoothed back her hair. He knew she was anxious to get back to the house to check on Dylan. Whether or not it had been an attack, it had shaken him and made him realize that he’d become too distracted by this lovely brunette and her son to be able to do his job properly. He had to back away, distance himself from her, but that was going to be difficult to do when his family believed that he was married to her.

  He started the SUV and headed to the Silver Star. Night had fallen and the road they were on was nearly deserted. Melissa dozed in the seat beside him while he worked on filtering the day’s events through his brain.

  Headlights in his rearview mirror caught his eye and he glanced behind him. A car was approaching quickly. Its headlights were on bright and it wasn’t slowing down. He gripped the steering wheel and glanced over to see Melissa was still dozing. His senses went on alert, but he reminded himself not to overreact. It was probably nothing. Probably just kids out for a joyride.

  Miles stepped off the accelerator to slow the SUV so the other driver could pass them, but the driver didn’t seem to take the hint.

  “What’s happening?” Melissa asked, raising her head from the seat and rubbing sleep from her eyes.

  “Someone’s behind us and they’re not going around.”

  She glanced back and her face paled. “Is it them?”

  His gut was telling him it was but he didn’t want to jump to conclusions. “It’s more likely that it’s just some kids messing with us.”

  He sped up and the car sped up, too, finally swerving to pass them, but as the car came closer, he had a bad feeling.

  “Hang on,” he shouted at Melissa as he floored the accelerator and took off. The car followed suit.

  Melissa’s voice was frantic as she shouted out details of what they were doing. “The passenger window is coming down and the passenger is leaning out. Miles, he has a gun.”

  “Brace yourself,” Miles shouted as gunfire filled the air. A bullet blasted through the back window.

  “Get down.”

  Melissa crouched down as much as she could as Miles did his best to keep the car out of firing range. He swerved in front of the car and tried to run them off the road while the other car continued speeding up. The passenger leaned out again and fired another round of blasts and he heard the ding of the bullets hitting metal. They had to get away from this car before the shooter managed to hit one of the tires or, worse, one of them.

  He grabbed the phone from its cradle on the dash and handed it to Melissa. “Call Josh or Paul or whoever you can find. Tell them we’re on Boyce Cannon Road and need help.”

  He glanced into the side mirror and caught a good look at the shooter just as he leaned out of the window of the car and fired, causing the side mirror to fly off the car. Whoever this guy was, he wasn’t a great shot.

  This blitz attack made no sense to him. Why not target them while they were getting in or out of the car, rather than while they were driving down the road? High-speed targets were a lot harder to hit, especially if you weren’t a skilled shooter. Maybe they wanted it to look like an accident, but that would be difficult to do given all the bullet holes.

  The driver sped up again and the shooter fired but the shots missed. Something didn’t seem right about all of this, but one thing was for certain...

  They’d definitely been found by someone who wanted them dead.

  The shooter fired again and the bullet whizzed past Miles’s head and slammed through the windshield. Miles jerked the steering wheel instinctively and lost control of the car. Melissa screamed as they smashed into a tree. Miles’s head slammed against the steering wheel and blinding pain shot through him as they jerked to a stop. He tried to open his eyes and reach for his weapon, but his vision was blurry and he couldn’t reach his gun. Melissa was beside him, but she’d stopped screaming. He turned his head and saw her head lowered. She was unconscious. He glanced through the shattered windshield and spotted the bright red of brake lights as their attackers stopped then turned around. And he heard the sound of muffled yelling from his brother through his cell phone, but he couldn’t respond as darkness pulled him away.

  * * *

  Melissa’s head was pounding when she opened her eyes. At first her vision was blurry, but as she tried to focus she realized what was wrong. They’d crashed the car. She tried to turn her head and saw Miles leaning against the steering wheel. He was unconscious and blood was oozing down his face from a gash on his forehead, but at least he was still breathing. She unbuckled and leaned over to try to wake him. She took a moment to be thankful Dylan hadn’t been with them.

  But what had happened? Why had Miles become so distracted? Then she remembered. Someone had been following them. Someone had shot at them and Miles had lost control of the car.

  Alertness flooded her and she turned to look out the windows. A car was stopped several feet away, only the headlights visible in the darkness. What were they doing? Waiting to see if they’d survived the crash?

  She shook Miles’s shoulder and cal
led his name. The last thing she remembered was being on the phone with Paul. She couldn’t recall what she’d said to him—if he knew where they were and what was going on. She glanced around and found the phone on the floorboard.

  Miles began to groan and move. She shook his shoulder again. “Miles, wake up. Wake up! We’re in trouble.”

  But he didn’t wake up, not completely. His eyes fluttered but didn’t open. She didn’t know what to do so she grabbed the phone again and dialed Paul’s number. He picked up quickly.

  “Paul, you have to help us. We’re in trouble.”

  “Melissa? What happened?”

  “Someone was shooting at us. We crashed. Miles is unconscious. I think the person is still out there. I see a car that’s just sitting.”

  “I’m already in my truck. Tell me where you are.”

  “I don’t know. We were heading back to the ranch from the hospital. I don’t know the names of the roads.” Then she recalled the name Miles had mentioned. “I think Miles said we were on Boyce Cannon Road.”

  “Hang on. I’m minutes away. Stay on the line with me.”

  She felt better having a connection and knowing someone was coming to help, but it didn’t ease her fears when a car approached. At first, she hoped it was Paul, but it was too soon, and surely he would have said something. She glanced out the window and spotted a car slowing down. Someone trying to help them? She didn’t know. She got out and walked around the side of the car.

  “What’s happening?” Paul’s voice asked her.

  “Someone’s here. Another car just pulled up and stopped a few hundred feet away. Is it you?”

  “No, it’s not. What are they doing? It’s probably someone stopping to help.”

  She walked toward the car and the door opened, but when the man exited the car, she spotted a gun in his hand. He raised it and fired.

  Melissa screamed, dropped the phone and ran back toward the SUV, hiding behind the vehicle as the man approached. The clomping of his boots against the asphalt made an eerie sound. She needed Miles to wake up now. Why hadn’t she grabbed his gun? Paul’s voice was still yelling at her, but then the man stepped on and crushed the phone, ending the call.

  “What do you want?” Melissa screamed. “Why are you doing this?”

  No response. She glanced around and saw him approaching from the left, so she moved the other way, sliding around the SUV to the driver’s-side window. Looking inside, she saw Miles was still unconscious. She shook his shoulder again, trying to wake him. He groaned and the man turned and headed toward her. She tried to grab the gun at Miles’s side holster but the way he was hunched over, she couldn’t reach it. Maybe that was for the best—it wasn’t like she knew much about how to use it. All she could do was hope that Paul would arrive before this man reached her.

  She moved away from the vehicle and slid to the ground, wiggling beneath the SUV. He would find her and there was nowhere to run. She would never make it to the woods before he shot her, and besides, she couldn’t leave Miles alone. He would kill him for sure.

  It’s you he’s after, not Miles, she reminded herself. Maybe he would be safer if she ran.

  God, please let Paul arrive soon.

  She saw the man’s boots as he walked around the SUV and she willed her heart to stop hammering against her chest before he heard it. It was so loud. She couldn’t breathe, the fear was pressing on her so hard.

  He stopped at the driver’s door and was probably checking Miles to see if he was breathing. He was going to find her! He had to know she had nowhere to run.

  Suddenly, the door jerked open, knocking the man to the ground. Miles jumped on top of him and wrestled for the gun in his hand. The man kicked at Miles and tossed him backward, away from him. He started to raise the gun when a pair of headlights shone from around the corner and blinded him. He swore and ran back toward the car, hopping inside. Both cars roared away as Paul’s truck screeched to a stop and he jumped out.

  Melissa crawled out from under the SUV and rushed to Miles, who was conscious but still bleeding.

  “Are you both all right?” Paul asked.

  Miles nodded but grunted. “I’m fine.” He glanced at Melissa and concern rocked his expression. “Are you?”

  She nodded quickly to alleviate his fears. “I’m okay.” Either the painkillers she’d taken for her broken arm were still working or else the adrenaline rushing through her was dulling the pain.

  Paul pulled out his phone and made a call, grunting in frustration when it went to voice mail. “Josh isn’t answering.”

  “Try Cecile,” Miles suggested. “She’ll know where he is.”

  He made the call and alerted Cecile to the situation, then called for an ambulance.

  “I don’t need an ambulance,” Miles insisted, ordering him to end that call. “I’m fine.”

  “You hit your head,” Melissa responded. “You lost consciousness and were out for a couple of minutes, at least. You should get checked out.”

  He pushed to his feet, using the SUV for support. “I said I’m fine.” He walked toward Paul’s truck and opened the door, sliding inside.

  Melissa glanced at Paul, who nodded for her to follow him. “He’s probably just beating himself up that he got knocked out when you needed him.”

  She crawled in beside Miles while Paul remained outside, obviously to give them some privacy. She placed a comforting hand on his arm. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine.” He pulled off his button-up shirt, wadded it up and pressed it against his forehead where the gash was bleeding. Blood already stained his T-shirt.

  “I was scared. I thought he was going to kill us both.”

  “I’m sorry he got the jump on me. That shouldn’t have happened.”

  “It’s not your fault. I understand that things happen.”

  “Things don’t just happen, Melissa. They can’t. It’s my job to make sure they don’t. You don’t seem to get that. When things just happen, people die. People I’m supposed to protect. I failed you today.”

  She touched his arm again and leaned her head against his shoulder. “I don’t feel like you failed me. I’m still here. I’m safe.”

  “You’re not safe. They know where you are. Don’t you see? You’ve been compromised. I can’t deny it any longer.” He rapped his hand against the dashboard. “I was a fool to believe you were ever really safe.”

  “You were trying to do the right thing. I understand that. I’m glad you brought us here. Dylan and I have needed this break.”

  “Yeah, well, break is over. It’s time to get you somewhere safe.”

  * * *

  Paul climbed into the truck and started the engine. “I’m taking you to the ER. You at least need to have that gash stitched up.”

  Miles started to protest only to have his brother give him a don’t-mess-with-me look. Finally, Miles nodded his agreement. “Fine, but I’m not staying overnight.”

  He grabbed Melissa’s hand and clung to it and she seemed to understand his concern. He wasn’t going to leave her side again, even for medical attention. He was going to stay with her until this was finished. It didn’t matter that it hadn’t been his choice to be knocked out.

  “Dylan!”

  Miles grabbed Paul’s phone. If Shearer’s men knew to find them on the road to the hospital, then they knew about the Silver Star, too. They could go after her son. “Who’s at the ranch?”

  “Just Mom and Dad when I left. They were watching Dylan.”

  Miles pressed the icon to call, and his dad answered. “Has anyone been there? Have you seen anything? A strange car? Someone sneaking around?”

  “No, why?”

  “Where are you?”

  “We’re inside the house.”

  “Good. Stay there. Lock the doors and grab one of the rifles.”

/>   “What’s happening?”

  “Someone just ran me and Melissa off the road and tried to kill us. We’re concerned he might try to go after Dylan next.”

  He heard his dad’s voice turn to hardened determination. “Well, he’ll have to get through us first. Are you both okay?”

  “We’re fine. Paul is taking me to the ER to get a wound stitched up, but we’re good. Have you spoken to Josh? We can’t get him on the phone.”

  “I haven’t. I’ll keep trying to call him.”

  He ended the call and handed the phone back to his brother, then slid his arm around Melissa and pulled her close to him. Fear was reverberating off her, but the scent of her berry-scented shampoo sent his senses reeling. He’d nearly lost her, nearly cost her her life. He had to do better for her and Dylan. He’d never lost a witness and he wouldn’t start with her. It wasn’t just his professional pride. This case mattered more to him than anything had before. And that was why he needed to be at his very best. He’d gotten too close to her for his own good. He’d been too unguarded. That’s why this guy had been able to ambush them without him seeing it coming. It had been a rookie mistake that nearly cost them both their lives. It couldn’t happen again.

  With the way she melted into his arms, he knew keeping his professional distance wasn’t going to be easy. But his heart wasn’t what was important. Keeping her safe and alive was priority number one. Any foolish dreams he had about a life with her and Dylan didn’t—couldn’t—matter. They were impossible dreams, anyway. She would always be in danger and he could never be with her while she was. He would have to leave his job as a marshal and enter WITSEC with her and he didn’t think he could ever give up being a marshal.

  Josh arrived at the ER while a doctor was stitching up Miles’s head. “What happened?”

  “Someone was firing at us. He hit the windshield, and my hand jerked on the steering wheel until I drove us into a tree.”

  “Did you get a description of the guy or of the car? Did you recognize the shooter?”