Hearts on the Line

by Margaret Daley

  Quinn, still towering over her, scanned the table, the food lovingly prepared by Becca’s hands, the bouquet of daisies in a vase in the middle. Their cheerful yellow color mocked him.

  He collapsed into the chair next to Becca. “I’m sorry. I overreacted. I’d blame it on the lack of sleep, but I’d be lying. My life has been so disrupted for the past few months because of Escalante. To think he has deliberately targeted you was just too much.”

  Becca grasped his hand nearest her, cupping both hers around his. “He wants to rattle my cage.”

  “Has he?” Losing concentration because of Escalante’s ploy could be dangerous for her.

  “I’m concerned. I’d be a fool not to be. But by contacting me he could make a mistake. He’s getting bold slashing tires, taunting the police. He thinks he’s invincible. He isn’t. I’ve dealt with criminals like him before and that can be their downfall.”

  Although his stomach constricted in a huge lump, he glanced at his plate full of delicious food and said, “Let’s finish. I don’t want all your hard work to go to waste.”

  She released his hand and turned to her meal. “The one good thing about this dinner is that it can easily be reheated.”

  He chuckled. “Who gets the leftovers, you or me?”

  “I like the tile you picked out for your countertop,” Quinn said as he drove out of the store’s parking lot.

  To be honest, Becca hadn’t put much thought into her selection. All that was on her mind was the fact that the officers who had talked to her neighbors had come up with a report of a black Jeep Cherokee seen parked on her street around the time she’d left the note with a vague description of a dark-haired man sitting in its front seat as if waiting on someone. It had to be Escalante. Driving a black Jeep.

  “Becca?”

  The question in Quinn’s voice pulled her away from her thoughts. “Yes?”

  “You haven’t said two words since I picked you up.”

  “Yes, I have.”

  He gave her an exasperating glance. “You know what I mean. Something up with the case?”

  She sighed, not wanting to keep anything from Quinn that might save his life. “A black Jeep Cherokee was seen on my street about the time I left the note on your truck.”

  “So you think that’s what Escalante is driving.”

  “Yes. At least I hope so. It will help us in our search.”

  Quinn peered at the rearview mirror. “Then I think Escalante is following us.”

  Becca swiveled around and stared out the back window. Sure enough, several cars back was a black Jeep. Excitement gripped her. She fumbled for her cell and placed a call to Sam, reporting the vehicle behind them.

  As she flipped her phone close, Quinn swerved across a lane of traffic and made a sharp turn to the right. “What are you doing?”

  “Seeing if that’s Escalante.”

  Becca’s mouth hung open for a few seconds before she snapped it closed and followed the line of traffic behind them in the side mirror. The black Jeep made the same turn and was now a hundred feet behind them. When Quinn sped up, so did the Jeep. Quinn flew down several back streets while Becca was on the phone again to inform Sam of this recent development. As she was giving her partner their latest location, the vehicle behind them decelerated, then turned at the next intersection.

  Quinn tightened his grasp on the steering wheel, slowed and made a U-turn. “He isn’t getting away from us.”

  He headed for the street that the Jeep had just taken. Becca grabbed her gun from her waist, wanting to be prepared in case they caught whoever had been following them.

  As they headed up into the mountains toward Cripple Creek, the winding road underscored the danger in this pursuit. Quinn shouldn’t be involved, and yet Becca knew he would never halt until they either lost the Jeep or stopped it. The sheer determination in his expression reflected how she felt, and she understood what was going through Quinn right now. His family had been threatened—as he had—and he wasn’t going to let Escalante get away.

  NINE

  The screech of the tires as Quinn sped around a curve filled the truck. Becca’s hand on the door handle tightened, and she gritted her teeth so hard that her whole jaw ached.

  “Where’s the backup?” Quinn asked as he maneuvered another sharp series of curves.

  “Coming.” Becca peered behind them and saw a glimpse of a black-and-white not far away.

  The hard planes of Quinn’s face emphasized the intense concentration it took to stay on the mountain road. Becca stared out the side window at the sheer drop hundreds of feet into the tops of a forest of trees.

  The truck hugged the shoulder dangerously close to the edge. Lord, help us. Becca said the prayer over and over as they took one bend in the road after another, trying to keep the black Jeep in sight.

  On a straightaway Quinn gunned his truck, his tires chewing up the asphalt. Becca kept her gaze trained on the road up ahead as it climbed upward, trying to find the Jeep. It couldn’t be that far in front of them, but it was nowhere to be seen. Two squad cars roared up behind them.

  “I think we’ve lost him,” Becca finally said as they began their ascent.

  “No, I’m not giving up. He couldn’t have just vanished.”

  “Maybe one of the turnoffs we went by?”

  The truck slowed. Frowning, Quinn glanced down at his instrument panel. “I’m out of gas. I just filled up. I don’t understand.” He steered the truck toward a turnout and came to a halt.

  One of the black-and-whites raced on by while the other stopped. Becca and Quinn clambered from the truck and met the officer halfway between the two vehicles.

  “Is there a problem?” the police office asked.

  Quinn squatted down and examined the underside of his truck. “Yeah, my gas tank has a leak in it.”

  Becca inspected where Quinn pointed. “I don’t believe in coincidences.”

  “Neither do I. Escalante wanted us to follow him for a short time. He’s enjoying taunting us.”

  Sam pulled up in his car a few minutes later after Quinn had placed a call to his auto club. Becca had sent the other squad car on to keep looking for the black Jeep. She gave the officer her cell number in case he discovered anything.

  When Sam joined them by the mountain road, he said, “So far the officers haven’t found anything. We’re going to start searching all the side roads off this one from here back.”

  “Isn’t one of the properties we’re interested in along this road?” Becca shielded her eyes against the glare of the sun.

  “That’s the first place we’ll visit.” Sam turned to Quinn. “Can you wait by yourself for the tow truck? I need Becca to come with me.”

  “I can’t talk you into letting me tag along?”

  Becca said no at the same time as Sam did.

  Quinn’s fierce features stressed his displeasure at their answer. “If it hadn’t been for me, you wouldn’t have this lead.”

  “And we appreciate it. But, Quinn, you have to let Becca and me do our job without worrying about a civilian getting caught up in a shootout.”

  “Shootout,” Quinn murmured, a closed expression descending.

  Becca knew what was going through his mind in that exact moment. He was thinking about Maggie’s death and comparing her and his dead fiancée’s jobs.

  “So I’m supposed to go about my day as though nothing is happening?” Quinn stood in front of her, blocking her path.

  “Yes. Let me do my job. I’m good at it. We’ll find Escalante. His boldness may be his downfall.”

  “I’ll have my cell. I’ll be at your house working after I get my truck towed. Please keep me informed or…” His voice thickened. He averted his gaze for a few seconds, then directed the full impact of his look into her eyes. “Be careful.”

  Hidden in a line of trees later that same day, Becca spied the cabin through binoculars with the black Jeep parked around back. No movement. Based on Alessandro’s description, the
two officers staking out the property thought Escalante was inside. She felt in her gut they were right. To make everything legal and aboveboard, Sam was securing a search warrant before they went in. This gave them time to arrange everything. Slowly the tactical team was moving into place, surrounding the cabin, setting up a perimeter.

  Sunlight streamed down through the branches of the aspen and pines, heating the back of her neck. Sweat beaded on her forehead. Even in the cooler mountain air, the day was hotter than usual. Was it an omen?

  She itched to end this once and for all. But so much of police work required patience and the ability to wait. Keeping the binoculars trained on the front of the cabin, she thought back to the night before with Quinn at his house. She’d been so tempted to ask him if she could stay to protect him from Escalante. She didn’t. But when she’d left, she’d worried the whole way home about him being alone with that monster running loose. The first thing she’d done when she’d entered her house was call him to make sure he was still all right.

  He hadn’t said anything about her unexpected call, but she had known he realized why she had phoned him. Hanging up, she had sat for a long time, staring into space. Then it had hit her. She had fallen in love with Quinn and that wasn’t going to go away. The feeling had thrilled and frightened her—still did. How had it happened so quickly? She’d dated Sam a long time and had never felt that way about him.

  “I’ve got it,” Sam said, slipping in next to her. He patted his pocket.

  The few windows there were in the cabin were covered, giving no visual into the place. The snipers were situated with their guns ready if needed.

  “Command has decided we’re moving in.” Sam shifted next to Becca, getting more comfortable as they waited. “They don’t think Escalante knows we’re out here. We’ll wait until after they have secured the place.”

  “I’m not so sure about that,” Becca said, the feeling in her gut intensifying. But the SWAT team knew the risk and had decided this was the best course of action. Time would tell.

  Becca watched as the tactical team ran forward in a crouch toward the cabin, maneuvering themselves yard by yard closer to the log structure, hiding behind whatever cover there was—an old rusty car, a pine tree, a bush. Swinging the binoculars toward the front facade, she saw the barrel of a rifle appear in one of the two windows at the same time as several shots were fired at the members of the team, sending dirt flying at their feet. A bullet hit one officer in the leg. Sanders collapsed to the ground, dragging himself behind a tree. He was now pinned down.

  “He knew,” Sam muttered.

  It made sense, Becca thought, following the SWAT team’s retreat, checking on the wounded officer, who gave a thumbs-up sign while he pressed his hand into his thigh. Sanders would need help soon. Time was running out. “We’ve been out here in full force for half an hour, assessing the situation, getting into place. If I was a killer, running for my life, I would be checking the terrain every so often, especially when we gave chase earlier this morning.”

  “I guess we’ll go to Plan B. Negotiating.”

  The knot in her stomach blossomed, seemingly taking over her whole body. Escalante wanted the man she loved to pay with his death. The fallen officer could bleed to death if not rescued soon. So much was at stake. She had to do what she could. “There’s a phone line into the cabin. Does anyone know the number?”

  Sam withdrew his notepad and read it off. “I’ll be back in a sec. I’ll check in with command to see if this is what they want to do next.”

  Situated a hundred and fifty yards away, dressed in her body armor and mostly protected by the cover of a ridge, Becca felt relatively safe, but sweat still encased her. This could be a long siege. She couldn’t picture Escalante walking out on his own.

  “Make the call,” Sam said, coming back. “They’re willing to try negotiating while they come up with another plan. Sanders won’t last long.”

  Becca punched in the numbers and waited while it rang. When someone picked up but didn’t say anything, she went into her spiel. “This is Becca Hilliard with the Colorado Springs Police Department. We have a warrant for your arrest, Escalante. We are not leaving here without you.” She shifted to get a better view on the cabin to see if there was any activity.

  Heavy breathing sounded through the line, then a deep, gravelly voice said, “You won’t take me alive. I have nothing to lose.”

  At the same time as she heard a shot she felt something pierce through her body armor. For a few seconds she didn’t realize what had happened, then she looked down and saw the hole in her armor. Pain spread through her left shoulder, causing her to drop her phone. She sank against the ridge, the grass pressed into her right cheek.

  From the cell next to her, she heard Escalante’s laugh. “That one is for Quinn.” Then the phone connection was severed.

  Sam was at her side, hunched low. “He has armor-piercing bullets!”

  She gave her partner a weak smile. “So it would seem.”

  “Got to get you out of here.” Sam scanned the area, but a frown furrowed his forehead. “I can’t risk moving you back behind the outer perimeter. Not only does he have armor-piercing bullets, he shoots like a sniper. We’re all pinned down.”

  Pain clouded her mind as she compressed her right hand over the wound. Blood oozed between her fingers. “Then I’ve got to try to get him out of the cabin.” Light-headed, she tried to lift her cell, but Sam stopped her.

  “You heard him.” He took the phone. “I’ll call—”

  An explosion rocked the ground, a deafening sound seemed to suck the air away. Becca inched up to see the cabin engulfed in flames, a column of black smoke billowing into the sky.

  “He blew himself up,” she gasped, the vision of the fire spinning before her eyes.

  Escalante had followed them this morning! Tampered with his gas tank!

  Quinn pounded the nail in with more force than was needed, but he had to do something to rid himself of the anger inside. Escalante was dragging Becca into the middle of his plot to seek revenge against the two families. And Quinn’s feelings were the reason why. Somehow the man had seen what Quinn had been trying to deny to himself, to others. He was falling in love with Becca and he shouldn’t. The reasons it wouldn’t work between them were still there and now Becca was in danger.

  Being surrounded by Becca’s things made his resolve to put some distance between them waver. On the desk across the kitchen sat a picture of her and her siblings. Glancing back at it, he zeroed in on her huge smile, which dominated the photo. His pulse rate sped as his truck had earlier this morning when Escalante was within his reach. Yeah, he was gonna back off, Quinn thought sarcastically.

  Taking a survey of the half-finished room, with part of the cabinets in and part not, he laughed, no humor in the sound. Working for the lady was going to make it difficult. At least she was usually at work. He would just have to make a point to be long gone by the time she was due home. No more waiting around for her to appear. No more dinners—well, after the rehearsal dinner next week since he’d already invited her.

  Yep, when Colleen’s wedding was over, he would hurry and complete the renovation project in record time. After all, he had a lot of work at Montgomery Construction that needed his attention. His dad could go back into retirement. He could take over the hospital wing’s construction.

  But then you can’t do what you love best, a little voice sounded off in his mind. Okay, so he liked renovation projects. He’d just have to find another one with a little old lady who didn’t look like dynamite in a sundress, in a navy blue pantsuit.

  He started to pound another nail when his cell buzzed. Putting his hammer on the counter, he flipped open his phone and practically growled, “Montgomery here.”

  “Quinn, this is Sam.”

  The urgency in his friend’s voice alerted Quinn, drawing him up. “Yeah?”

  “Becca is on the way to Vance Memorial. She was shot while we were closing in on Escal
ante.”

  “How bad?” His grip on his phone threatened to snap it in two.

  “She’s lost a lot of blood. Not sure.”

  “I’m on my way,” Quinn said, striding toward the back door while he talked.

  He closed his cell and stuffed it into the front pocket of his jeans. Quickening his step, he rounded Becca’s house and climbed into his truck. Fumbling to insert his key, he dropped it. The pounding of his heart thundered in his mind as though a hammer was striking against his skull. For a few seconds his vision blurred, and he groped for the key chain. Finally the haze cleared and he snatched it up and started the truck.

  Please, Lord, don’t take Becca away. I can’t lose another one. Please watch over her and take care of her.

  Seated next to Becca’s hospital bed in the dim light, Quinn waited for her to wake up. After the surgery to repair her shoulder, she’d been sleeping off the effects of the anesthesia, giving him time to do a lot of thinking. None of it good. Even though Escalante was dead from the explosion, that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be another time that Becca’s life would be placed in jeopardy. She was a homicide detective and on the negotiation team for the department, both dangerous assignments—like the bomb squad.

  “Son?”

  Quinn jerked his head up and looked toward the door. “Dad, what are you doing here?”

  “Checking on Becca and you. How’s she doing?” Leaning heavily on his cane, his father moved farther into the room until he stood at the end of the bed.

  “She should be fine. No permanent damage—this time.”

  Joe quirked an eyebrow. “Meaning?”

  “What about next time?”

  “You’re thinking about Maggie.”

  “Wouldn’t you?”

  “Not the same, son.”

  Quinn buried his face in his hands, slowly scrubbing them down it. “I can’t do this a second time.”