by Sarina Wilde
“The place looks deserted,” Adam observed as they entered the farmyard.
“Yeah, but logic tells me you wouldn’t keep paying for utilities on a place you never use.”
“True.” Adam pushed the shift to park and cut the engine. “Let’s look around. I don’t want to spend too much time out here if they apprehend Shelby at home, but by the same token, if he’s holding these women anywhere, this seems the most logical place.
Kevin peered out the passenger window toward the house. “Why don’t we split up, so it goes faster? I’ll take the house, you go to the barn.”
“Sounds good.”
They exited the car with their hands on their weapons. Adam scanned the area, looking for places not only where Shelby might hide someone, but also where he might hide. Adam waited while Kevin headed toward the house then strode quickly to the barn. The paint on the old wooden building had faded and peeled over the years though the structure seemed to be in good repair.
Despite the deserted air to the whole farm, Adam couldn’t shake the feeling something wasn’t quite right. The silence was too complete. He glanced over his shoulder, saw his partner walk up the steps and knock on the door. Adam waited, but no one answered. Kevin tried the door and found it locked. When he moved away to check in the windows, Adam turned back to the barn.
The big double sliding doors in the front were locked with a chain and padlock. Around the side was a smaller door that looked as if it led into what might once have been a milking parlor. He jiggled the knob then peered in the windows along the outside wall, seeing nothing but the old milking stalls, metal bars separating one from the other. Dust and dirt made it difficult to see much, but what was visible appeared to be vacant. The concrete pad in this portion of the barn would have made hiding anyone nearly impossible anyway.
He stood back and gazed upward. Dairy barns almost always had enormous hay lofts, especially the older ones. Converting them into a livable area was possible, but making such a location secure enough to hide someone for years seemed improbable. He might have dismissed the idea of a bunker earlier, but something along those lines seemed far more likely in this location.
The silence continued to creep him out, not even the birds or bugs seemed to be making a sound.
Adam started toward the rear of the barn then stopped when his cell phone vibrated. He pulled it from his pocket, saw the station number on the display and answered.
“Heller.”
“I thought I told you to call me when you got there,” Sarge barked.
“Ramsey’s phone died.”
“Yours works. Never mind. I got a call from our patrol unit. No one’s at Shelby’s address in town.”
Adam’s gaze shifted. Everything still appeared deserted, but his unease grew. “Ramsey’s taking a look around the house.” He turned and headed back to his partner. “Let me find him and I’ll call you back. If you don’t hear from me in the next five minutes…send backup.”
He didn’t wait for a reply, just punched End and slid the phone back into his pocket. If Shelby wasn’t at home, chances were he was either in transit…or already here. Adam’s brain started turning in different directions now, targeted more toward where Shelby might be hiding…and if he could be armed.
Casting his gaze back and forth across the empty farmyard, Adam palmed his weapon and jogged toward the house. Kevin must be around back. If Shelby was already here, he had any number of places to hide his vehicle or he’d parked somewhere else on the property and returned on foot. And if he was here, chances were more than good Shelby knew two police officers were too. As he moved along the side of the house, he called softly, “Ramsey?”
Kevin hurried from around back, his weapon already in his hand too. “What’s up?”
“Shelby’s not at his house.”
Kevin nodded. “I just spotted a vehicle matching his around behind the equipment shed in back, so I came to warn you.” He looked along the house’s side. “The house has a cellar. Outside doors are in back—padlocked—but it doesn’t mean there’s not an entrance inside. In looking through the windows, there’s a door in the kitchen that’s either a pantry or the cellar access. Anything in the barn?”
“I didn’t get to the back before Sarge called, but it looks as though the lower level’s locked tight. I couldn’t see inside the main part of the barn, but there’s an old milking parlor on the opposite side—it’s vacant. The loft and the main barn below are still question marks.”
“I’m in a similar situation here. The house has an upstairs and a cellar. I haven’t been able to get in either one.” Kevin met his gaze and held it. “I think we need backup and I think we need to stick together while we continue our search.”
“Can we claim exigent circumstances?”
Kevin nodded. “I’m good with that. If Addy Brown’s here, we need to find her and not wait for a warrant.”
Adam put in the call to their sergeant. They were now working in conjunction with Adam’s old department, but they were a small force, so Sarge would be dispatching most of the backup from downtown.
“Don’t wait. But be aware, Shelby does have a concealed-carry permit, so expect him to be armed. You’re also dealing with a farm. Chances are excellent there’s at least one rifle on the place and he knows how to use it.”
Adam slipped the phone back in his pocket and nodded to Kevin. “You want to go in the front or the back?”
“Front. If Shelby has a rifle, there’s too much open space and woods behind the house where he would have an unobstructed view. The barn limits the angles.”
“It also gives him a vantage from which to hide.”
“True. I’ve got your back while you get the door open.”
“On three.”
They moved in unison along the front of the house, Adam keeping an eye on what might be behind them as he knew Kevin watched the barn and the areas around it. They reached the steps and Adam heard three things almost simultaneously—a thud, a grunt and the crack of a pistol. Kevin’s dead weight crashed into him before Adam’s head slammed against the stair railing.
Adam fought for balance, crouching and spinning. As soon as his gaze caught sunlight reflecting on metal, he raised his weapon. There was no time to think. At the same time he squeezed off a three-shot burst, a white-hot poker pierced his thigh. Pain nearly made him puke, but he had to get Kevin. With his gun still raised toward the rear corner of the barn, Adam watched for any signs another shot was imminent.
This was no time to be cautious, he had to get Kevin moved out of harm’s way. Wrapping his fingers in his partner’s pant leg, Adam dragged Kevin backward, using the house for shelter. Not the best solution, but if he hadn’t hit Shelby and the man were able to move, they were no better than sitting ducks. He darted a glance at Kevin, didn’t see any exit wound, so he rolled him over, half afraid of what he might see, but other than a cut near his hairline, he saw no bullet wound, then he spotted the flattened and distorted slug embedded in his vest.
Fingers shaking, Adam checked his pulse, his breath hitching when he found the steady beat. Although unconscious, it appeared Kevin was not in immediate danger. Pain clouded Adam’s vision as he scooted flush with the corner of the house and peered around. Everything was still. Nothing moved, not even a breeze. He needed to call, to let their backup know Shelby was armed.
Adam had to move his injured leg so he could get his hand in his pocket and grab his cell. His heart dropped to his feet when he saw the crack in the case. Fuck! Somehow in everything that had happened, his phone had gotten enough damage he couldn’t get it to work. That left the radio in their car.
The wound in his leg wasn’t just oozing blood, it soaked his pant leg. Before he made an attempt to get to the radio, he had to stop the bleeding. Adam yanked off his tie then grabbed the shoulder seam of his dress shirt and jerked, relieved to hear it rip. With one eye on the barn and his weapon where he could grab it in a hurry, he explored the wound on his leg. An entr
ance wound, but no exit wound. He folded the sleeve into a pad, wrapped the tie two times around and tied it off as tightly as he could.
Beside him, Kevin groaned.
“Easy, babe,” Adam muttered. “Stay put. I’ve got to get to the car radio. My phone’s busted.”
He started to ease forward when Kevin grabbed him. “No.”
“I got to, man. We can’t let backup drive into an ambush. Can you cover me? Don’t aim. Just fire a couple shots in that direction to keep him from taking aim at me.”
Kevin nodded, but he didn’t let go. They stared into each other’s eyes. Adam blinked at the emotion he saw there.
“Don’t you die,” Kevin whispered.
Adam swallowed, grabbed Kevin’s neck and pulled him in for a quick, hard kiss. “No fuckin’ way are you getting’ rid of me that easy.”
He rolled to his feet and heard Kevin move into position behind him. With a deep breath, Adam lurched across the gap between the house and their car, but the only gunfire he heard was from Kevin firing toward the barn. He rolled against the sedan’s side and looked back. Kevin gave him a nod. As soon as Adam opened the door, Kevin fired another shot.
Adam grabbed the mic and pulled it next to him. “Any units responding to ten-five-seven-nine Hyde Cemetery Road, suspect is armed. Approach with caution. Officers down. Need ambulances.”
He heard the acknowledgement from a dispatcher, followed by a rebroadcast of his transmission. Adam leaned back against the car, staring over at Kevin for an instant. He wanted to be there with him, without the few yards separating them, but he couldn’t press his luck. Blood had already soaked through his makeshift bandage, the pain now making him feel lightheaded and sick. Raising his gaze again, his eyes widened. Grady Shelby was coming around the back corner of the house, blood staining his shirt, and the wild look in his eyes showing he’d lost touch with reality.
Even worse, his gun was pointed at Kevin’s head and Kevin was so intent on the barn, he had no idea Shelby was there. Adam raised his weapon. For an instant, his partner’s eyes widened at the gun barrel that had to look as if it pointed directly at him.
“Duck!” Adam yelled and fired.
Chapter Eleven
Jill had a few minutes to spare after arriving at the hospital, so she stopped by the employees’ lounge and logged on to the computer. Her email showed there was still no response from Adam.
That didn’t make sense. By this time he should have gotten her message. Uneasiness gnawed at the pit of her stomach. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed the general number. She needed to talk to a warm body.
“Detective Younger.”
Good, somebody she knew. “Hey, Andy. It’s Jill Ramsey. I’ve been trying to reach Kevin, but I think his phone must be dead, ‘cause it keeps throwing me into voicemail. You wouldn’t happen to have Hell’s number would you?”
“Sure thing, Jill.” He rattled off the number and she let out a relieved breath.
“Thanks, Andy. I owe you one.” As soon as she’d disconnected, she dialed Adam’s cell phone then cursed under her breath as she was thrown once more into voicemail. She shoved her phone in her scrubs pocket with a shaky hand, her heart pounding. What were the odds that both of them would be out and unreachable by cell?
She needed to report to the ER or she’d be late. Jill hurried along the corridor, already making up her mind to find the attending physician right away. She needed a few minutes to make one more phone call to the sergeant. It might make Kevin and Adam angry, but if she didn’t talk to someone, she’d never be able to concentrate on work.
* * * * *
As he stared into Adam’s pistol bore, Kevin’s heart nearly stopped, but he did what his partner ordered without question. An instant later, a bullet whined over his head from behind him, slamming into the sedan not more than a foot wide of where Adam was. Gun in hand, Kevin rolled over, fighting back the nausea the movement caused, and watched as Grady Shelby dropped his pistol and collapsed to the ground, a hole in the middle of his forehead.
Shelby was dead. There was nothing more to be done for him, but he could help Hell. Slowly, painfully, Kevin hauled himself to his feet. Swaying, he stuck his hand out and used the house to balance before staggering the few yards it took him to reach Adam. His partner’s pallor alarmed him. The cloth he’d used to cover his leg wound was already saturated with blood.
Shock glazed Adam’s gaze, but his grip was still firm. “Is he…?”
“Dead. You saved my ass—twice. I’m getting the first-aid kit so we’ll get some clean pads and more pressure on your wound.”
“Help’s coming.”
“Lie still.”
Kevin’s head and chest pulsed with pain, sending sharp tentacles throughout his entire body. Best-case scenario, he figured he had a concussion and bruised ribs, but Adam worried him. He’d lost a lot of blood—most of it from trying to save them both from Shelby. He dropped the first aid kit on the ground, carelessly hauling pads out and slapping them on top of what Hell had already put on.
“Put your hand over it tightly. Can you do that?”
Hell blinked in acknowledgement. Kevin grabbed the mic, radioing in to let them know they’d taken out Shelby.
“The scene’s secure. We need an ambulance in here. Quickly!”
“Find Addy,” Hell muttered when Kevin turned back to him.
“No. It can wait until everyone gets here. I’m not leaving you, damn it.” Kevin blinked, trying to clear his vision enough so he could get the knot out of Adam’s tie. “I’m getting fresh stuff on here. Keep the pressure on while I get a dressing ready.”
“Not dying. Find her.”
Kevin leaned his shoulder against the sedan’s door, fighting dizziness and a heaving stomach as he slid his hand behind Hell’s neck. “I can’t leave, Hell, even if I were willing. I can barely stand. Let me do what I can.” He shifted Hell’s hand and applied clean pads to the wound. “Put the pressure back on.”
Hell pressed, wincing with his own pain, while Kevin pulled his belt free and jacked it tight around Adam’s thigh above the wound. That would hold. Fingers still shaking, he wrapped gauze around his leg to hold the pads in place. At last, from down the road, he heard the whine of multiple sirens. “They’ll be here in a minute.”
Hell grabbed his hand and squeezed. “Ride with me. Hate fucking hospitals. Such a pussy.”
Kevin brought Adam’s bloodstained hand to his mouth, pressing against it before he said, “You’re so far from being a pussy it’s not even funny. Shut up, Hell. I’ll go with you. They’ll make me.”
Too dizzy and nauseous to remain crouched next to him, Kevin flopped onto his butt, wincing at the jarring it sent through his chest and head. Tires sprayed gravel, sirens cut off and police and medical personal swarmed around the area. Stretchers appeared. Kevin tried to wave them away from him, but Sarge appeared and cut off his protests.
“You’re both going on stretchers in ambulances. Hell’s bled like a stuck pig and if you don’t have some cracked ribs after taking a slug to the vest, I’ll kiss your ass on Main Street and invite the chief to watch.”
Kevin’s eyes kept going to where they were working on Hell. “He’s okay, right?”
“You worry about you. I came over to let you know we backtracked Shelby’s blood trail and found a door inside the barn leading to an underground holding area.”
Kevin turned his head, groaning when pain pumped through his skull. “Addy?”
“They’re bringing her out now…under her own power. You did good, Ramsey. You and Hell saved her.”
Kevin sagged back against the stretcher, still straining to catch at least one glimpse of the teenager. At last he saw her. Her eyes were wide and she looked shaky and overwhelmed. But she was alive. She was alive. Kevin shut his eyes, not even trying to hide the tears trickling down his cheeks.
* * * * *
Two nurses and docs were in a huddle when Jill neared the work area in the center of the t
reatment rooms. As soon as Beth saw Jill, her friend touched the arm of the primary attending physician. All it took was one look at his expression and she knew. She had good reason for her uneasiness. Jill shook her head and took a step back.
“No.”
Ty Radcliffe hurried over, pulling her into his lean frame. Kevin. Adam. Both?
“Are they dead?” It hurt to utter those three words, but she didn’t want it sugarcoated or couched in any polite phrases. Her heart thumped, while she waited for the news she never wanted to hear.
“Not dead. Both officers are alive.” Her knees started to give out on her in relief. “Sit, Jill,” Radcliffe ordered.
As she did, what he’d said dawned on her. Adam. “Both officers? A car accident?”
“No. Shooting. I don’t know exact injuries yet. The paramedics made the connection and radioed in case you were working. A suspect opened fire on them, had them pinned down.”
Gunshot wounds. Oh God. Kevin didn’t always wear his vest. If they weren’t suspecting… “What’s their ETA?”
“Fifteen minutes. They were on a farm north of town. A third ambulance is bringing in the missing girl, Addy Brown.”
Jill stared at Dr. Radcliffe. “Alive?”
“We’re getting more information on injuries,” Beth called over to them.
Jill took a deep breath and joined them. The triage nurse had already coordinated treatment for the incoming patients. They would need a surgical team for a gunshot wound to the thigh, X-rays for a possible concussion and chest trauma. It looked as though they wanted the girl treated as a rape victim.
“What’s the chest trauma?” Jill asked.
“Bruising, possible rib fractures. That’s Kevin, Jill,” the triage nurse informed her. “He had a vest on. He was lucky.”
She sat down hard in a nearby chair, fighting to maintain her composure—and her consciousness—while her head swam with dizziness. Someone had shot him in the chest. His vest had absorbed the impact, changing what would likely have been a life-threatening bullet into bruised or cracked ribs.