Mason

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Mason Page 16

by Delores Fossen


  “I went to your bedroom,” she reminded him. “I seduced you.”

  His eyebrow lifted, and he gave her the look that only he and the world’s greatest skeptic could have managed. “If I hadn’t wanted to get you in that bed, it wouldn’t have happened.” Another pause. His mouth tightened. “I didn’t want to hurt you, though.”

  “You didn’t,” she lied. Except it wasn’t even a lie. She’d hurt herself. Mason had spelled out the rules right from the beginning, and she’d still jumped in headfirst.

  “I hadn’t expected it to be, well, wow,” she mumbled.

  He flinched. “I’m not sure if that’s an insult or not,” he mumbled. “Because I always aim for wow.”

  She fought a smile, mainly because this wasn’t a smiling moment. Abbie gave her feelings some more thought and came to a frustrating decision. If she had to do it again, she wouldn’t change a thing.

  “I love you,” she repeated.

  He stared at her, cursed and stared some more.

  “And I don’t expect you to do anything about it,” she snapped. “Got that?”

  It was a good exit line, and one of Mason’s favorite shut-up-and-quit-arguing sayings, but it would have been better if she could have exited. But when she tried to storm off, Mason caught her by the arm. He did more of the staring. More cursing, too, and then he let go of her.

  “I can never give you what you want,” he said.

  It took a moment for the words to sink in. Well, this wasn’t the big surprise she was hoping for. The change of heart that she knew was a total long shot anyway. This was Mason being Mason, and if a woman played with fire, she should expect to get burned.

  Because she was mad at herself, and at him, and because she was feeling ornery, Abbie came up on her toes and kissed him. “Never is a long time, Mason.”

  There. Now, that was an exit line. But once again, it didn’t happen. That’s because Mason’s phone rang. And even though she’d already started to walk away, Mason’s question stopped her in her tracks.

  “Who is this?” he demanded.

  Abbie turned and saw his expression go from the question to the concern. No, make that fear.

  “What happened?” Mason asked, his voice louder now.

  Abbie could only stand there and wait. It seemed to take forever, but Mason finally pressed the end call button and then jabbed another on the keypad.

  “What’s wrong?” Abbie asked.

  Mason just shook his head. “The killer has Grayson’s wife and baby.”

  * * *

  “HOW THE HELL DID THIS happen?” Gage demanded the moment he stepped foot inside the ranch house.

  Mason didn’t fill his brother in as he’d done the others when they’d arrived in the family room. He let Kade give Gage the details so that he and Grayson could work out what needed to be done.

  The ranch house was chaotic with all the brothers and their spouses present and everyone talking at once. Everyone trying to figure out how to rescue Eve and baby Chet. There was just one big problem—they didn’t know where the kidnapper was holding them. And that problem was what had put the haunting look in Grayson’s eyes. Thank God the other children and their nannies had all gone upstairs, because this wasn’t something Mason wanted his nephews and nieces to witness.

  “I shouldn’t have left them in that hospital room,” Grayson repeated.

  “Hindsight’s twenty-twenty,” Mason reminded him. “You had no idea this was going to happen.”

  Especially because Grayson’s mind had been on his sick baby. Dr. Mickelson had wanted to keep baby Chet overnight for observation, and both Eve and Grayson had stayed by his side. Until a nurse had come running into the room to tell Grayson that Mel had phoned the hospital to tell them that Gage had been shot.

  “No cell reception in the hospital,” Grayson repeated.

  And that’s why he’d run outside to call and verify what’d happened. When he realized it was a ruse, a fake call, it’d been too late. Eve and Chet had been taken. No one had seen anybody or anything.

  “The killer will make some kind of ransom demand,” Mason reminded his brother. “He or she doesn’t get paid to hurt Eve or the baby. This is just to draw us out.”

  “Draw me out,” Abbie corrected. She was standing in the doorway, her hand gripping the jamb. Probably because she wasn’t too steady on her feet. “I’m the first name on Ford’s death list. I’m the one the killer wants.”

  “You don’t know that,” Mason fired back. But no one agreed with him. They couldn’t. Because Abbie’s name was first.

  She let go of the jamb, walked closer, her gaze nailed to Mason’s. “When he or she calls, I’ll be the ransom demand.”

  “To hell you will.” Mason went to her, grabbed her by the arm and pulled her out into the foyer. Of course, the nearly dozen Rylands and Bessie quit talking and focused on Mason and her.

  “If you go to meet this SOB, he or she will kill you,” Mason clarified, in case she hadn’t understood his objection.

  “And if I don’t go, he might hurt Eve and the baby.” She glanced over Mason’s shoulder to address Grayson.

  “The killer might do that anyway,” Grayson admitted.

  And Mason hated that he couldn’t control that, that he couldn’t stop it from happening. But what he could do was prevent Abbie from making herself a sacrificial lamb.

  She tipped her head to the equipment bag that Nate had brought with him. A bulletproof vest was lying on top of it. “I could wear that and go in armed. You and the others could be at a safe distance. Then, when Eve and the baby are away from there, you could get me out, too.”

  “Yeah, with lots of bullets flying. That’s not going to happen.”

  His cell phone rang, the sound shooting through the otherwise-silent room. Unknown Caller flashed across the screen, and he knew before he answered that this was the killer.

  “I’m sending you a picture,” the person immediately said. It was a man, but Mason didn’t recognize the voice. But it could be the person who’d fired the shots at the hospital.

  Mason put the call on Speaker so he could watch the image load. The others huddled around him to do the same. When the picture was ready, Mason’s heart dropped to his knees. He’d hoped and prayed that all of this could be explained away.

  But no.

  The picture was of Eve cradling her sleeping son in her arms while a man had a gun pointed at her head.

  Grayson cursed. “If you harm either of them—”

  “I have no intention of hurting them,” the man interrupted, “unless you give me a reason to do that.”

  “Where are you and what do you want?” Mason demanded. Beside him, Kade used his own phone to snap a picture of the image of Eve with her captor. No doubt to put it through the FBI’s facial recognition software, because he went running toward his laptop.

  Mason studied what he could see of the photo. Eve looked unharmed and was wearing a bulky down jacket that she’d used to tuck the baby inside. Good thing. Because Chet had a fever, the chilly night air wouldn’t help.

  “My demands are simple,” the man on the phone continued. “I want each of you to come to me. I’ll give you the location later, but the first person I want to see is Abbie Baker.”

  All eyes went to Abbie, and other than a slight intake of breath, she had no reaction. She’d already resigned herself to the demand, and that meant Mason had to change her mind. And the snake who was holding his sister-in-law and nephew.

  “Having Abbie won’t get you Ford’s money,” Mason pointed out. “Start with me and work your way down the list.”

  “Tempting,” the man said, with sarcasm dripping from his voice. “But Ford’s instructions were specific. Abbie first. The sheriff. Then you.”

  So it was about the money. Mason hadn’t thought otherwise, but it sickened him to hear it spelled out. “We can pay you whatever Ford arranged in his will.”

  “Perhaps, but I have to decline. My boss says it’s imper
ative that Ford’s wishes be carried out. And here’s how. Abbie will leave alone and walk to the end of the ranch road where someone will pick her up. If she’s followed or has anyone with her, Eve and the baby will be the ones who pay the price for you not following orders.”

  The color drained from Grayson’s face. Mason was sure he wasn’t faring much better. It sickened him to think of an innocent baby caught in the middle of all of this.

  “Why does Abbie have to go alone?” Grayson pressed. “The goal is to kill all of us.”

  “My boss wants you to arrive one at a time. I’m not sure why exactly, and with what I’m getting paid, I’m not going to ask. All will be revealed when you need to know.”

  And with that, he ended the call.

  Mason expected a flurry of questions and discussion, but everyone remained silent. And everyone continued to look at Abbie. She was no doubt about to remind them that she had volunteered to go, but Kade spoke before she could.

  “I’m running the picture now,” he explained, and that sent Gage and Nate heading in the direction of the computer. Grayson turned to go there as well, but his cell buzzed.

  “Is it the kidnapper?” Mason questioned.

  Grayson shook his head, answered the call on speaker. “Boone, this isn’t a good time.”

  “I know.” Boone’s voice was barely a whisper. “An armed man has Eve and the baby.”

  Hell. What was going on now? And how the devil had Boone gotten involved?

  “How do you know that?” Grayson asked, and yeah, he was suddenly suspicious.

  “Because I’m looking at them now.”

  Mason snapped his gaze toward the phone and listened.

  “Are they okay?” Grayson asked. “Have they been hurt?” He was on the verge of panicking, and Mason doubted he could do anything to calm him down.

  “They look fine. The baby’s asleep, and Eve’s just sitting there. The gunman is right behind her.”

  “Why are you there?” Mason wanted to know.

  “It’s not by accident. About a half hour ago, I got a call from a man who told me that if I’d come to the Ryland family cemetery, he’d let Eve and the baby go,” Boone continued. “I parked my truck up the road and walked here, so I could see what was going on.”

  “Where are they?” Grayson demanded.

  “By your mother’s grave. But don’t come,” Boone insisted. “Not just yet. The place has been booby-trapped. I can see wires on the ground, and I’m pretty sure those wires lead to some explosives.”

  Not good. That made a sneak attack a whole lot harder. Not impossible, though. Somehow, they had to figure out how to do this.

  Grayson had such a tight grip on the phone that Mason was surprised it didn’t shatter in his hand. “Is there just one gunman?”

  “Hard to tell. There could be others hiding behind the trees.”

  Yeah, and they had to anticipate that. But at least now they had a location, and that meant they could come up with a plan.

  “The gunman’s expecting me to show in fifteen minutes,” Boone added. “What should I do?”

  “Wait until you hear from me,” Grayson ordered. He slapped the phone shut and looked at each of them. “Arm yourselves. We’ll move on foot to the cemetery, but you’ll stay back. I’ll go in and try to negotiate their release.”

  The cemetery was a good mile and a half away. Still on Ryland land but outside the security fence that rimmed the ranch. And therefore not part of the surveillance system. No way to visually check what was going on. Plus, there was a problem with just driving in there—someone was no doubt watching the road.

  “I got an ID on the gunman,” Kade called out. “Sylvester Greer. He’s a pro.”

  Mason hadn’t expected anything less. “Any idea who hired him?”

  “None,” Kade answered. He hurried away from his computer and went to the weapons cabinet in the corner of the room. “But I’m betting we’ll find out before the night’s over.”

  Yeah, they would. But hopefully learning that wouldn’t come at a sky-high price.

  Like losing Eve.

  “The gunman told you not to come,” Mason reminded his brother.

  Grayson spared him a glance as he, too, went to the weapons cabinet and took out magazines of ammo that he shoved into his pockets. “Would you stay back if they had Abbie?”

  Mason hadn’t seen that question coming, but he knew the answer was no. He wouldn’t stay back. And he turned to let her know just that.

  But Abbie wasn’t there.

  He tore out of the room and into the foyer. “Abbie?” Mason shouted.

  No answer. And then he cursed when he looked at the equipment bag. The bulletproof vest was missing, and the front door was wide-open.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Abbie knew she didn’t have much time. Probably less than a minute. She’d left the moment Mason ended the call with Boone and then had sneaked past Rusty, who was standing guard on the side of the ranch house. But it wouldn’t be long before Mason or someone else realized she was missing, and they would try and stop her.

  The night air was chilly, and the wind whipped at her, but she ran through the pasture. Toward the cemetery. And she tried not to think about how Mason was going to react to her leaving.

  He wouldn’t like it, that’s for sure.

  But there’s no way she was going to put Grayson’s wife and son at further risk, and the Rylands were too heroic to toss her in the line of fire. That heroism could endanger Eve and the baby far more than necessary.

  All the danger and attacks had been leading up to this, and Abbie didn’t intend to let anyone else face down a killer who was aiming for her. Well, for starters. If Ford Herrington got his death wish, then all the Ryland males would soon be in the line of fire.

  Unless she could stop it.

  This wasn’t a suicide mission. That’s why she’d put on the bulletproof vest and had brought a gun with her. She didn’t have the aim of a professional hit man, but she had something that a hired gun didn’t—the will to end this before Mason or any other member of his family got hurt.

  That included Boone.

  Yes, it was a long shot, but if Boone or she could take out the gunman, then this would finally end tonight. And she did have a little time on that front. Ford wanted her to die in front of Boone, and that meant the gunman would wait for Boone to arrive before he started firing. The gunman didn’t know that Boone was already there, and unlike her, Boone had a deadly aim. If she could draw out the assassin, then maybe Boone could do the rest.

  Abbie ran faster but kept glancing over her shoulder. No sign of Mason yet. She didn’t have a clear view of the ranch road, but she couldn’t see headlights either. Maybe the car that was supposed to whisk her away hadn’t arrived yet.

  When she made it to the back of the pasture, she ducked behind one of the white wooden fence posts. It wasn’t wide enough to cover her, but it would have to do. She already had the gun drawn, but she got ready in case she had to take aim quickly. That would be a worst-case scenario, and it wouldn’t get Eve and the baby out of danger.

  She tried to pick through the darkness and the dense clump of trees so she could see the cemetery. Again, the angle was wrong. She couldn’t see Eve, the baby, Boone or any gunman. She spotted one lone marble headstone. An eerie sight in the milky moonlight, especially with the wind fanning the veiny tree branches above it. Ford was one sick man to want his death wish carried out here.

  Abbie levered herself up and heard the sound of footsteps. Not from the cemetery but from behind her. Before she could even look over her shoulder, someone grabbed her, hard, and shoved her to the ground.

  She turned, ready for a fight, but thanks to the moonlight she had no trouble seeing her attacker’s face.

  Mason.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he snarled.

  He was whispering, but Abbie could feel the anger in every muscle in his body. And there was a lot of him to feel because
he literally had her pinned to the ground.

  “I’m trying to save Eve and the baby,” she fired back.

  “This is not the way to do it.” Mason didn’t look at her. His gaze slashed all around them. With good reason. At least one gunman was out there, and he might see or hear the commotion.

  “Don’t move,” he ordered, and he looked behind him.

  Abbie did, too, and spotted several armed men making their way across the pasture. His brothers, no doubt. They were keeping low, but she could make out the silhouettes of their weapons.

  She put her mouth right next to Mason’s ear. “If the gunman sees all of you, he could hurt Eve. Let me go in there and try to defuse this.”

  “You can’t defuse it. This is a death trap, and Greer, the hired gun, doesn’t care a thimble of spit whether Eve and the baby get hurt in the cross fire.”

  Abbie wanted to argue. She definitely didn’t want to think of a baby in this kind of danger. But Mason was right. Ford had set up these rules, and he wouldn’t care who else died.

  Oh, God.

  What now?

  “You’re staying put,” Mason insisted as if he’d heard her unspoken question. “Kade and Gage will figure out how to disarm the booby traps.”

  That sounded like a good start, but Abbie had to shake her head. “When the car arrives to pick me up, the driver will tell the gunman I’m not there. He’ll be suspicious. And he’ll know we’re onto him.”

  “Then we have to work fast.” Mason didn’t hesitate, which meant he’d no doubt thought of this. “Any idea where Boone is?”

  She shook her head. “I can’t see Eve or the baby either.”

  “The picture of her and the baby was taken by my mother’s grave. It’s behind those.” He pointed toward the thick clump of trees that were only about twenty yards from the fence.

  Abbie groaned. If they were still there, it would be nearly impossible to sneak up on them. And that was no doubt the killer’s intention.

  “Wait here,” Mason told her. “And that’s an order. Move, and there’ll be hell to pay.”

  Abbie didn’t doubt that. But she wouldn’t stay hidden if there was some way she could help. Of course, the trick would be to figure out how to do that without putting anyone else in even more danger.

 

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