Two Cowboys in Her Crosshairs [Hellfire Ranch] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour)

Home > Other > Two Cowboys in Her Crosshairs [Hellfire Ranch] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) > Page 23
Two Cowboys in Her Crosshairs [Hellfire Ranch] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 23

by Jennifer August


  “I guess.”

  Hudson skirted the couch and stared out the large picture window as they went to the living room. No sign of Olivia or Jake’s truck. Nothing moved at all. Not even the leaves of the three full oak trees stirred.

  “Maybe we ought to close the curtains,” he said. “That’s an awfully wide-open view in and out.”

  Jake looked then shook his head. “I don’t want to shut ourselves in, Hud. We’re already confined here. No sense closing off the view and make us both miserable.”

  “Good point.”

  Jake dug out the game while Hudson scooped the magazines from the tabletop. They sat on the sofa, and Hudson yelped as his phone poked him. He pulled it out and tossed it on the coffee table next to the mound of wooden letter tiles.

  “Get your seven,” Jake said and started culling out his own.

  Hudson stared intently at the blank backs of the tiles. He usually got stuck with crappy combinations like z, x, p, v, and three i’s. He plucked his tiles with great care and flipped them over onto his rack.

  “Damn it,” he muttered. No z or v, but he ended up with two w’s and two u’s.

  Jake grinned and started to put down a word when the front door opened.

  Hudson didn’t recognize the name or the man who stepped through the doorway. He did recognize the lethality of the snub-nosed pistol in his hand.

  “Fischer,” Jake said. “You son of a bitch.”

  Hudson sucked in a breath. This is the guy we’ve been chasing? He wouldn’t have looked twice at the little man on the street. The only outstanding features on him were dark, bushy eyebrows. Fischer was a good six inches shorter than his six three and at least thirty pounds lighter. He wondered if he could rush him and give Jake a chance to take him down.

  “Sit tight,” Jake muttered as if he’d read his mind.

  Hud’s eyes flicked to his phone sitting in the middle of the table.

  Fischer shut the door and locked it but kept his gaze and gun muzzle trained on them. “I’ve been called worse, Logan. Throw me the phone.”

  Hud twitched as Jake hesitated. Fischer lifted a brow and swung the gun up. “I will kill your friend. Three, two—”

  Jake swept the phone up and flung it at Fischer, who brushed it aside.

  “Temper, temper.”

  Jake edged forward, but Fischer centered the barrel on his chest. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Remember I’m a certified marksman, Jake. I can take both of you out with killshots in less than two seconds. Far faster than either of you can get to me.”

  “What do you want?” Jake asked.

  “Sit down for starters.”

  Hud looked at Jake. Rage poured off of him like rain off a flat rock. He gripped Jake’s arm and urged him down to the sofa.

  “Good boys,” Fischer mocked. “You’ll stay alive longer if you follow directions.”

  Jake’s muscle tensed, and Hud clamped his arm down even more. “Knock it off,” he warned.

  “I have a few questions for you,” Fischer said. He stood over them but just off to the side. Hud didn’t have a clear enough angle to tackle him before he could shoot. He would bide his time and take the little bastard out the second he let his guard down.

  “Fuck you,” Jake said.

  Fischer lifted a brow. “I capped Shag with one shot, Jake. Pow.” He flicked the gun. “Right through the back of his head.” His eyes glittered with anticipation. “I won’t hesitate to do it again.”

  “You killed him?” Jake asked.

  “Yep.”

  “You son of a bitch. Why?”

  The brown-toothed smile reappeared. “Because I wanted to.”

  Jake’s body tensed. Hud hoped he’d be able to keep his temper in check until the right moment.

  “You need answers or you wouldn’t be here,” Jake said. “Kill me and you don’t get what you’re after.”

  Fischer nodded. “Excellent point.” The gun swung in Hud’s direction. “But your friend here is expendable. Shall I demonstrate?”

  Jake shrugged. “Same concept, you little fucker. Kill him and all my motivation for helping goes out the window. And I’ll take great pleasure in ripping your head from your body and shoving it up your ass.”

  “Don’t push it, Logan,” Fischer snarled. “I’ve gotten this far without you. I figure I have a few hours before anyone would discover your bodies. Plenty of time to find what I want.”

  Hud shifted closer to the edge of the couch. Just a few more inches and he’d be able to launch himself low and hard. With any luck the blow would send Fischer’s head slamming to the ground and at least knock him out. Preferably it would kill him.

  “It’s not here,” Jake said.

  Fury mottled Fischer’s face an unattractive purple and brown. He really did look like some sort of plague rat. His nostrils flared, and his thin lips flattened into nonexistence. “What’s not?”

  “The statue. It’s not here.”

  Fischer’s blue eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. “Where is it?”

  “Olivia took it to town. I’m sure you’ve been watching down there, haven’t you, Fischer? You’ve had to have seen all the activity. We’ve got the Feds and Texas Rangers down here.” Jake lifted a palm. “They’re all looking for you. Trying to blow up a federal employee is seriously frowned on.”

  Hudson inhaled as a sudden thought struck him. “That’s what’s wrong. Where’s Sam?”

  Fischer didn’t look at him. “If you mean that busty blonde cop stationed at the end of your driveway, I took care of her.”

  Hudson half rose, but the gun focused on his forehead.

  “Sit the fuck down,” Fischer snapped.

  “Where is she?” Hudson demanded again.

  Fischer ignored him. “I was pretty pissed that I missed Martinez that night. I knew I should have stuck around to make sure.”

  “Sloppy work gets sloppy results,” Jake said.

  “No problem. I’ll find her.” He grinned suddenly, and Hudson went cold. Pure evil glinted from his brown teeth. “And now that I know where the statue is, I don’t need either one of you.”

  * * * *

  Olivia held on to the dashboard with one hand as Tag tore up the black-tar road heading to the Hellfire Ranch. A dark, sick feeling balled in her stomach.

  “Can’t you go any faster?” she asked.

  “I’m doing ninety as it is. This old truck can’t handle anything faster. It’s a state vehicle, you know.” Tag tossed an equally stormy look her way. “I want this bastard, too.”

  “I know, sorry.”

  Dust from the sides of the road kicked up as they roared past, and Olivia thought she saw a very startled deer jump back into the safety of the trees. She twisted to look and nearly conked her forehead on the butt of Tag’s rifle.

  He had two of them in his truck. One was a standard double-barrel shotgun. The other was a sleek and powerful rifle with a scope. Her palms itched to grab hold of it and examine the high-quality craftsmanship a little closer.

  The truck’s throaty engine powered down as Tag let off the accelerator. “We’re about a quarter mile out,” he told her.

  She leaned forward and scanned the area to the left where the cutoff to the ranch started.

  “Damn,” Tag muttered a second later. They pulled off the road and behind the deputy’s car.

  He jumped from the truck and rushed forward with his gun drawn. Olivia ran just a few feet behind him.

  “Be careful,” she whispered.

  Tag’s face was tight and full of fear as he approached the car. Cautiously he peered inside. His shoulders slumped then he whirled around. “Empty.” His green gaze swept the brush and trees standing sentry at the gate. “Where is she?”

  Olivia followed his line of sight and came up empty. She looked inside the car. A half-full cup of coffee was in the console. The keys were in the ignition. The car’s radio handset dangled from the dash onto the floorboard. The computer was up and running. It looked
like the deputy had merely stepped away.

  Olivia stepped back and squinted at the ground near the driver’s door. The Texas sun baked the ground, but some scuffs in the sand showed more than one set of prints. “Damn,” she muttered and bent down. “I can’t tell which prints are yours, hers, or mine.”

  Tag knelt beside her. He placed a fingertip next to a crisscross pattern that ended in a rounded heel. “That’s an athletic shoe,” he said. “Sam and I are both wearing flat-soled shoes. Lift your foot.”

  She lost her balance as she complied. Her hand hit the passenger door with a loud thump.

  “It’s not the same as yours,” he said. “Small though, and Fischer fits that bill.” He rose and nodded toward the gate. “The tracks lead that way.”

  Olivia followed him to barrier and peered through. The shoe impressions were barely visible, and she couldn’t be sure they were the same. “How’d he get through?”

  “Maybe he climbed over. It’s meant to keep cattle in and out, not necessarily people,” Tag replied. “God damn it, where is Sam?” He snatched his hat off and beat it against his leg.

  Olivia gripped his arm. “We’ll find her. Doesn’t look like any foul play happened. No sign of a struggle, no blood. Not like—” Horrified by her near gaffe, she clamped her mouth shut.

  Tag’s brow furrowed. “Not like Wallace,” he finished for her.

  “Yeah,” she mumbled. “Sorry.”

  The sheriff straightened. “We need to move her car so we can get up to the ranch. We’ll need to proceed with caution.”

  She nodded. “We should be able to get close enough to see what’s going on. I wish I had keys,” she said. “The mudroom door on the side is probably open. They go in and out of there a lot.”

  Tag shook his head. “I told them to lock up tight.”

  Olivia managed a small grin. “They’re tough cowboys, remember? With all the police protection, I bet they felt invulnerable. They probably didn’t have one single damn lock thrown. Fischer got in somehow.”

  He nodded. “Yep, you’ve got them pegged all right. Okay, let me move the car.”

  He slid into the driver’s seat, and Olivia waited on the side of the drive. He started the engine then began backing up. Olivia heard a strange noise then a loud thump. She waved her hands frantically just as Tag let out a startled exclamation. He jammed the car into park and jumped out. He met her at the trunk where more thumps emanated.

  Tag handed Olivia the keys and drew his service revolver. He pointed it at the trunk. “Open it up. Nice and easy. Keep your hand on the lid, but be ready to drop if I yell.”

  She nodded and fitted the key into the lock. The lid swung up slowly, but she heard the muffled yells and thrashing from inside.

  She let the hot metal slide all the way up. Deputy Sam Carson stared up at her with hazy eyes. The tall woman’s lean body scrunched nearly in half. Her wrists and ankles were bound with duct tape. Another two strips crossed her mouth.

  “Sam!” Tag hollered as he holstered his weapon.

  He shoved Olivia aside and reached in to pull the deputy out. He set her against the bumper and worked at the bindings on her hands.

  Sam shook like a drenched terrier. Sweat matted her blonde hair to her forehead, and her face held an unhealthy shade of red. Olivia ran to the front of the car and grabbed the coffee.

  She returned just as Tag bent to slice through the tape at the deputy’s feet.

  “Want me to get that off your mouth?” she asked.

  Sam’s eyes still held an unfocused look, so Olivia gently cupped her hand around the coffee then gently worked the duct tape off her face.

  “Drink some of the coffee,” she ordered Sam. “You’re dehydrated from being in the trunk.”

  Sam nodded and lifted the cup. Her eyes drifted closed as she downed it.

  Tag wrapped his arm around her waist then gently pushed her hair back. “Are you all right? Did he hurt you?”

  The deputy shuddered. “No,” she said. Her voice shook as much as she did. “He could have killed me, though. I don’t know why he didn’t.” She closed her eyes around tears, but they fell anyway.

  Tag wiped them away. “Don’t cry.”

  She gave a watery laugh. “Too late. But if you tell anyone, I’ll deny it.”

  Olivia was relieved by the retort. That meant Sam was recovering. “I hate to break this up, but we still have to get to the ranch. Did he say anything to you about what he was going to do?”

  “No. He was cold and to the point.” She grimaced and shame covered her face. “I’m sorry, Tag. He got the drop on me. Walked right up and shoved his gun against my temple.”

  “It’s okay. You’re alive and that’s what matters.” Tag shoved away from the car. “I want you to stay here and wait for the ranger. Ryan should be here within the hour.”

  Sam’s expression went mutinous. “I want to go with you. I owe that little bastard for sticking me in there.”

  “Stay here, Sam,” Tag ordered. “I need you here.”

  She looked like she wanted to argue but didn’t. Instead she squared her shoulders and downed the rest of the coffee. “God, that tastes awful. All right. Go on up.” She touched his arm but encompassed them both in her sweeping hazel glance. “Be careful. He might not have killed me, but I don’t think he would have hesitated to do so.”

  Olivia nodded then trotted to the truck. She climbed inside and waited impatiently while Tag said something else to Sam. The deputy’s face softened for a moment then closed as she pushed away from the car.

  “Ready?” he asked as he started the engine.

  Olivia set her jaw. “Hell yeah.”

  The gate swung open, and Tag eased the truck through the opening and up the dirt road. The engine rumbled loudly as they passed the corral. The cows stirred and tromped back and forth.

  Hopefully they made enough noise to cover the sound of the truck.

  “Stop here,” Olivia said when the edge of the house came into view.

  They crept from the truck and left both doors open.

  “I’m going to check the side door,” Tag whispered at her ear.

  She nodded and pointed toward the front of the house. He jerked his head once in agreement.

  Olivia used the large trees for cover as she darted from trunk to trunk. When she reached the final tree, she peered around and through the large picture window.

  Terror washed over her.

  Jake and Hudson were seated on the couch. She could tell by the stiff set of their shoulders they were furious. Fischer stood just to the right. He must have been out of striking distance because she was pretty damn sure one of the men would have taken him down if possible.

  Fischer also held a gun. He swung it toward Hud and grinned with malevolence. Olivia’s heart stopped.

  No!

  She had to do something. He was going to kill them both.

  Busting in without a weapon was stupid and dangerous, but maybe it would distract Fischer enough for Jake and Hud to act. But what if the door was locked?

  Fischer shifted backward and turned sideways, giving her an unobstructed view of his body. The gun’s aim moved to Jake, who leaned indolently against the couch.

  Tag hadn’t yet returned, but she didn’t know if he’d made it inside either. She only had one chance and couldn’t risk it on the door. Olivia sprinted back to the truck and snatched the high-powered rifle from the gun rack.

  She didn’t slow as she raced toward the house. Olivia stayed behind the tree line until she had a clear view of Fischer.

  She blinked and focused on his head, but it wobbled left to right. Sweat dampened her palms as fear raced through her. She had only one shot, and if she missed, it could be disastrous.

  Fischer’s shoulder bunched with lethal intent.

  She was out of time.

  Olivia peered through the scope and centered Fischer’s head in its magnified sight.

  She eased her finger around the trigger and squeezed.


  Chapter Sixteen

  “I can’t believe you shot him,” Jake said to Olivia.

  He hugged her tight. Mostly to reassure himself they were both still alive. He needed to feel her softness against him. Jake’s nerves were still as rattled as they’d been three hours earlier when her shot pierced the window and took down Fischer.

  “Good going, Livvie,” Hudson murmured.

  Jake looked down at his friend. He sat on the couch with his hands clasped loosely between his spread legs. He had a bemused expression on his face but didn’t seem overly upset.

  Olivia hugged him back then sat down next to Hudson. She laced her arm through his and patted the sofa. “Come down here,” she ordered Jake. “I want to feel both of you next to me.”

  Jake obediently sat.

  “Tell me again what happened, Olivia,” Boone said. He sat in the chair on the left.

  Jake stroked the inside of her wrist. Her pulsed raced beneath his fingertips. “Do we have to do this again?” he asked. “Right now?”

  Boone stared back. “Yes, we do.” He lifted a brow at Olivia. “Again.”

  “It’s okay,” she murmured. As Olivia recounted her tale from finding the deputy in the trunk to shooting Fischer, Jake continued to caress her. Gradually the rapid thrumming settled down.

  “And you were aiming for his head?” Boone asked.

  She sighed. “Yes.”

  The Fed looked at Jake and smiled then turned to study the blood-spattered chair Fischer had once occupied. “I didn’t know shoulder wounds could bleed so much.”

  Hudson laughed. It was the first sound he’d made in quite some time. “You’ve obviously never been sliced by the horns of a bull.”

  “Ah, yeah, I can definitely say that hasn’t happened.” Boone lifted a brow. “I don’t plan on it either.” He flipped his notebook closed and stood.

  “You did good, Martinez.”

  She snorted. “Are you kidding? I was aiming for his head and barely nicked his shoulder.” Fear chased over her face. Her fingernails dug into Jake’s arm. “I could have just as easily shot Jake or Hud.”

 

‹ Prev