Nothing. Nothing at all. Certainly she hadn’t been confusing a man she’d known for only hours with the husband whose death was still a raw wound.
That simple kiss had only been meant to wish Cole good luck, to thank him for risking his life to save the son who was her whole world. Anything else was unthinkable. It had been nothing more than a fleeting peck that meant less than when she’d kissed her father goodbye the last time he’d come for a visit.
It was only this horrible situation, not the man involved, that had dredged up this riot of emotion—and what she felt was nothing compared to the terror that weakened her knees each time she thought of what might be happening to Tyler.
For the third time since Cole had left she checked the borrowed cell phone for a signal. If she held it at exactly the right angle, the tiny screen showed one bar, so she tried to call the emergency operator again. But she couldn’t get the call to go through, no matter how she shifted her position.
Maybe if she made her way onto the rocky outcrop she’d seen, she could get an unobstructed signal. But climbing up would mean leaving the spot where she had promised Cole she would wait, the place where he had vowed to do his best to bring Tyler. It was the risk of somehow missing him, more than the idea of making noise that would attract the attention of the shooter, that kept her anchored in place.
Finally, though, she just had to stretch her cramped muscles, and as carefully as she could, she stretched her right leg, then stiffened as her foot bumped against something in the leaf litter near the rock’s base.
It was a cool night, far too cool for snakes to be active. But she must have disturbed a sleeping rattler, and at the sound of its distinctive warning, raw instinct took over, and she started racing for the outcrop.
She didn’t even realize she’d dropped the cell phone until it started ringing and the night erupted into gunfire.
* * *
COLE SILENTLY cursed himself for neglecting to warn Lisa to put the phone into silent mode, but he barely had time to finish the thought as a harsh burst of automatic gunfire split the night from somewhere off to his left.
Lisa! His every protective instinct urged him to go to her, even though training and common sense insisted that he first had to deal with the one threat within reach.
He did what he had to, striking his target like a guided missile and slamming the man’s head onto the ground with such speed and force that he was unconscious before he knew what hit him. Relieving the criminal of his handgun, Cole strained his ears for any sign of Evie. She might have stopped shooting to reload, or she could merely be waiting, listening as he was for any sign of movement.
Except in her case, she would be straining to hear signs of life from the woman she had surely shot down. The woman he should have safeguarded but had instead left behind him, a sitting target.
As he slipped through the darkness toward Lisa’s position, Cole was powerless to stop the waves of guilt rippling through him and the dread whispering that no matter how brave and determined Lisa was, she was no soldier. When that phone started ringing and the shooting began, instinct would have had her running like a rabbit—
a rabbit to be slaughtered in a hail of gunfire.
A nightmare image flashed through his brain, a vision of her crumpled body, blood flowing like dark streamers from half a dozen wounds. In that moment, he wanted nothing so much as to get his hands on Evie LeStrange, to rip the gun from her hands and beat her with it until he caved in her sadistic skull. As deeply ingrained in him as it was to never harm a female, this cruel creature was no woman, was barely even the same species as the beautiful and loving mother she had callously fired on.
Cole had been on missions when friends he’d lived with, fought with, bled with for years had made the final sacrifice. In the heat of battle, all emotion had to go on lockdown, had to give way to a mission that mattered more than any individual, or even the entire team.
But this time, he couldn’t do it, couldn’t make himself forget Lisa’s sweet kiss or the longing she’d awakened. As wrong as it had been to want her, the pain of her loss poured through him like an icy river, so stark and cold and real that he wanted to curse her for making him feel anything at all.
Wrenching himself back into the here and now, he reminded himself that right now Lisa’s son was the mission. If Tyler disappeared or died, her sacrifice would be for nothing.
Focusing on a goal helped Cole shake off his paralysis, and he forced himself to move on. His teeth gritted, he circled around to flank the woman with the AK-47, a gun in each of his hands and murder on his mind.
* * *
THROWING HERSELF to the ground as the first shots rang out, Lisa lay still, her heart pounding like a war drum as her nails dug into the hillside’s gritty soil. She felt as much as heard the deep thunk of bullets drilling the ground behind her, and her eyes clenched shut, her entire body tensing against the expectation that she would die at any second.
The impact never came, and the night once more fell silent. Except for the uncontrollable shaking that gripped her, Lisa couldn’t move, could barely breathe, could think of nothing but the way one misstep and an angry rattler had combined to save her life.
But only if she didn’t call attention to herself now.
As the seconds crawled past, she began to wonder if the shooter was coming this way to check for a body. Would they stop searching once they found the phone, or keep on going until they found her?
Desperately, she wished she had Cole by her side, if only so she could ask him what her next move should be. Even the thought of him somewhere nearby reassured her just a little. Refusing to consider the possibility that he might have been killed or injured, she instead imagined him, calm and strong and confident, as he drew a bead on the shooter. She pictured the scene in such vivid detail that she braced herself for the quick pop of his handgun.
Instead, she heard nothing but the stirring of a cool breeze and the rusted-hinge screeching of a distant owl. But she saw something when she dared to open her eyes again. A crescent moon had risen in the eastern sky.
Higher in elevation, since she’d made it halfway to the rocky outcrop, she made out something gleaming in the thin light. Something metallic, she was almost certain. Something like... Holding her breath, she dared to lift her head to look and saw that, yes, it was a bumper. The bumper of a vehicle parked perhaps a hundred yards from where Cole’s truck had ended up.
It had to be the stolen Explorer. And every cell and synapse in her screamed that Tyler was inside it, clutching his stuffed octopus as he waited for her to come find him.
Like a wind dispersing smoke, the thought cleared away all indecision. She had to get down to that vehicle. Had to save her son.
And somehow she had to do it without getting either of them killed.
Chapter Nine
“He jumped me, Evie! Wasn’t my fault! And the bastard’s got my gun!”
Cole swore when he heard the shouting and realized he hadn’t hit the tattooed kidnapper nearly hard enough. The terror in the man’s words also confirmed that the AK-47-toting “Evie” completely dominated her male partner—a role reversal that shattered Cole’s hopes that she might possess enough maternal instincts to protect a helpless child.
Ignoring the now-unarmed man blundering through the darkness, Cole continued moving toward a point between where Evie had been shooting and the spot where he’d left Lisa. The place where his target might be heading to confirm her kill.
If he had anything to say about it, Evie would die there, because he was far too angry to give a damn about staying out of trouble any longer.
A sound drew his attention, the subtle clatter of one pebble kicked against another. Zeroing in on it, he was soon rewarded with a glimpse of a curvy form he recognized as female.
Taking aim, he hesitated, wondering if Tattoo Man could possibly find his way back to the SUV and escape with Tyler if startled by the sound of gunfire. Quickly, he dismissed that concern, figu
ring he could head off the injured man before he got that far.
An instant before he squeezed the trigger, he caught the soft scent of vanilla on the breeze. Lisa’s scent, he realized, his heart flooding with relief that she was still alive and gratitude that he hadn’t shot her for a second time that day.
“Lisa,” he whispered as he moved toward her.
She gasped quietly before recovering and clutching his arm tightly. After giving it a squeeze, she let go and pointed off toward his right. “This way,” she murmured. “I saw where they’re parked.”
He nodded, knowing he couldn’t possibly leave her again. Even if he found a relatively safe place for her, now that she had spotted the Explorer, nothing he could say would prevent her from heading for her son the moment he was out of sight.
Better they should stay together, taking the chance on getting out of here with Tyler, than continue this deadly game of blind man’s bluff with a much better armed opponent.
An opponent who might well possess the cunning to stake out the Explorer and gun them down as they approached.
* * *
ALL LISA COULD THINK of was getting Tyler away from danger, holding her son in her arms and never letting go again. But every time it felt as if they were making headway, Cole clamped a firm hand on her forearm, forcing her to stop. She tried in vain to jerk free, wanting to scream that they had to hurry. They needed to run as fast as they could, not creep in the zigzagging course he insisted on, pausing every few feet to listen for any sign of pursuit.
But she didn’t say a word. She couldn’t, with the sound of the gunfire still ringing in her ears. Not to mention that if she argued with him, the sound would carry, drawing bullets as surely as the ringing phone had done.
After what felt like the longest, slowest walk of her life, she leaned toward him and whispered, “There,” then pointed out a distant, squared-off shape half-hidden by the tall weeds and the shrubs that screened it. Her heart seized when the rear door opened and a tiny silhouette emerged.
“M-mommy? Mommy, where are you?” As slurred and sleepy as the voice was, she knew Tyler when she heard him. Of all the times for him to wriggle out of his seat...
She struggled against Cole’s grip, her cry stopped by his hand across her mouth.
“Wait here while I get him,” he breathed into her ear. “This could be a trap.”
“No!” Even muffled, her cry drew unwanted attention, and she saw someone reach out, grab Tyler and drag him back inside the vehicle.
Releasing her, Cole took off running, making a beeline for the SUV as it roared to life. As Lisa watched in horror, he took aim at the windshield just as the Explorer swerved hard to the right.
He stood his ground but held his fire as the SUV kept coming, gathering speed as it raced toward him. He must be worried about hitting Tyler, she realized, because he waited, lining up his shot as the high beams nearly blinded both of them.
He finally pulled the trigger, then leaped to one side.
Lisa gasped as a thud told her that he hadn’t been quick enough. As he was knocked aside into the darkness, she raced toward him, intent on grabbing his gun and shooting the tires before the kidnappers could get away.
But they were gone before she reached him, bouncing toward the paved road and leaving behind a plume of dust.
She screamed “No!” as Tyler was stolen from her for a second time that day.
Cole’s groan dragged her attention from the disappearing taillights. Kneeling down beside him, she wiped away her blinding tears. “Are you all right?”
“Barely clipped my hip. I’ll be okay.” He struggled to his feet. “Which way did—”
“Back toward the road. Please—we have to catch up.”
He limped as they made their way back to his pickup. “Sorry, but we’re not going anywhere until I get that tire changed,” he said.
The air rushed from her lungs. But he was right. They would never catch up on a blown-out tire. Fighting back tears, she nodded. “Let me help.”
She heard another vehicle out on the road, but she couldn’t see it. Apparently the driver didn’t spot them, either, because the car rushed past without slowing.
Frowning at the receding sound, Cole hurried to get his spare and tools. Despite his injury, he insisted on doing the heavy lifting as they rushed through the task.
Once they finished, Lisa climbed in unassisted, forcing herself to use her injured arm. Rowdy leaped into her lap and snuggled against her, his blond tail wagging.
With a grunt of pain, Cole hoisted himself into his seat and fired up the engine.
“Sure you’re okay to drive?” she asked.
“I’ve got it,” he said. But when he put the truck in gear, though the engine revved, they didn’t budge.
“What’s wrong? Why aren’t we moving?” Every second they delayed was ripping her to pieces.
“Either the transmission’s gone out,” he said as he shifted into Reverse, “or—damn it. I think we’re hung up on something.”
She felt her hope shatter into a million pieces. “No! This can’t be happening.”
“Let me just try—” he shifted into Reverse “—backing
up. There.”
With a thump that shook the whole frame, the truck rolled off whatever had been holding it. Lisa had barely clicked her seat belt before they were bumping over the same rough ground they’d covered when they left the highway.
Once they reached the pavement, he mashed down on the gas. But all too soon, the truck began to shudder, and Cole furiously popped the steering wheel with the back of his hand as they lost speed.
“Damn it,” he said. “We must’ve done some serious damage when we ran off the road. I can’t even get it past forty. We’ll never catch them like this.”
Pain tore through Lisa’s center, agony so intense, she wanted to scream with it. There had to be some way to fix this, some way to get help—if only she hadn’t dropped the phone.
Of course, if she hadn’t, she would be dead. But if she lost her child, what would she have to live for anyway?
She clamped down on the destructive thinking. I won’t give up on you, Tyler. I promise you, I’ll find help. She saw it now, as clearly as if it were mapped out before her. The only option still left open.
“We’ll have to find a landline someplace,” she said, swallowing her grief, “contact the sheriff, and get him to send out cars and helicopters, whatever he can, before it’s too— Wait. What’s that up ahead?”
She stared in wonder at a pair of round lights, wreathed in smoke, one disk above the other. Beside it was a flashing red-and-white bar, also vertical.
“Car crash,” Cole said, coaxing a bit more speed from his shuddering pickup.
As soon as he spoke, her brain made sense of what she was seeing: the steaming wreckage of a sheriff’s car lying on its side, the slow pulse of its light bar like a beating heart.
* * *
“TRACE. WAKE up, Trace. Please talk to me.”
Trace didn’t want to wake up, not with his head pounding as if he’d gulped a fifth of vodka and his nose so stopped up, he was gasping through his mouth. But the frantic note in his wife’s voice convinced him that whatever she wanted, it was urgent. Besides, something wet was hitting his face, an annoying drip that had him turning his head to avoid it and forcing his eyes open.
What the hell was going on?
At the sight of Jill dangling from the car’s seat just above him, it all came rushing back. The dark shape shooting out of nowhere, headlights off and automatic gunfire blazing. The impact as it rammed them, pushing the cruiser off the road.
And somewhere in the background, the bitter taste of disappointment at the fact that it had been his ex and not his wife calling his name.
“I just radioed. Help’s coming,” Jill said as she fought to unlatch her seat belt.
A glimpse of white—the deployed side air bag that was now hanging limp above her—reminded him that her door had take
n the full force of the impact before their cruiser’s wheels left the pavement.
“Hurt?” he tried to ask her, but the word came out a grunt.
Apparently she understood him anyway. “I’m okay,” she told him, though even in this dim light he could see that her lip was bleeding. Dripping onto his face, which felt soaked already.
But then, he thought with a flash of irritation, Jill had always hated admitting she was sick or injured, had always stubbornly refused to give in to what she considered a sign of weakness. Apparently neither the beating Jimmy James Barlow had dished out, nor the miscarriage that followed had changed that about her. So why should he imagine a little thing like a major crash would do the trick?
Disentangling herself from her shoulder harness, she crawled down into the backseat behind him, then reached over it to squeeze his hand. “What about you, Trace? How bad is it? Do you want me to help you out of your belt?”
More than anything, he wanted to tell her that he was fine, too, wanted to ease the worry he heard in her voice. But for him, personal integrity had always meant a lot more than machismo, and that meant being honest with himself as well as others.
Besides, he had seen enough wrecks and attended enough first responder training sessions during his years with the department to know a thing or two about potential outcomes. And if Jill acted on impulse and emotion, and tried to move him instead of waiting for EMS to show up with their backboards and neck braces, things could get a whole lot worse than he sensed they were already.
“I’m not sure, hon,” he finally said, reverting to his pet name to blunt the answer to her question. “My head hurts pretty bad, but I’m more worried by what doesn’t. I can’t feel a damned thing below my chest.”
Chapter Ten
Colonel Drew Woodsen’s voice came through Cole’s cell phone like a buzz saw as his former commanding officer chewed through the same message he’d been trying to get across for the past three days, ever since Cole’s return to town with Lisa. “I know you’re a civilian now, but you’re worrying me, Sawyer. Get it through your thick head that you’re in no way responsible for anything to do with Staff Sergeant Meador’s family. And do it before you wreck your life.”
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