Rachel was almost too afraid to speak.
Almost.
“You didn’t just pick the prison transport at random because of opportunity,” she realized aloud. “You targeted it specifically.”
“After John was killed, Tracy Markinson went through an internal investigation. He was cleared. I knew it was only a matter of time until he was shuffled around. So I waited and waited. And then, poof. There he was, tasked with transporting some prisoners. It was like the stars aligned.”
Rachel still didn’t understand. “Why did you wait? If you were so hell-bent on killing him, why not go to his house? Or get him when he left work one day? Why kill all those men?”
Marcus shook his head. He had the gall to tsk at her.
“Because no one will hear what you’re trying to say if you aren’t loud, Ms. Roberts,” he said as casually as could be. “And nothing is louder than kidnapping a van full of men and holding them hostage.”
Rachel felt sick to her stomach. “You never planned on letting them go, did you?” Her voice was a whisper. “No matter what the sheriff did that day. You just wanted to punish one man. And then, what? Embarrass the department?”
“I wanted them to know what feeling helpless was really like,” he said simply. “But I couldn’t do that if they were all good men, now could I? That’s why I waited for a transport. I needed someone who was good. Someone they would fight for. Someone like my brother.”
Rachel thought she couldn’t have felt any worse than she already had. But she was mistaken. Her face turned hot, her hands fisted on reflex, and the only reason she didn’t cry was that the rage building within her was too quick. “You needed my husband.”
Marcus nodded again. “Tracy was the target, but David was the message. They were both dead before you even knew they’d been taken.” He shrugged. “Everything else after that? That was just for show, wasting time while I tried to get my affairs in order. That’s when Dane showed up. Luckily, I’d planned ahead. Paid a doctor on standby just in case things—”
“Get out,” Rachel interrupted.
It was like she was out of her own body, listening in from somewhere else. Her voice was unrecognizable even to her own ears. Menacing. Angry. Violent. She was seeing red. Blood red.
“Get out,” she repeated. Marcus raised his eyebrow. He started to smile. Rachel took a step forward. “Get. Out.”
His smile wiped clean. He studied her expression, her body.
“Listen here...” he started. It was his stance that changed now. He hadn’t expected her to bite. He’d expected her to sit still and listen. To be the audience to his grand tale. To ask questions he wanted to answer.
He was grossly mistaken.
Rachel took another step closer. Every muscle in her body was coiling. Like a snake ready to strike. Then she was yelling. “Get out! Get out! Get out!”
With adrenaline coursing through her veins, she grabbed the box closest to her, lifted it and swung it around. It was too heavy to reach him, but it still sounded bad as it slammed to the floor in front of him.
“What’s going on?” the man behind Marcus asked. His hand was on the butt of his gun. Rachel didn’t care. She wasn’t going to just stand around and do exactly what the man wanted. She couldn’t. Not when he’d just admitted to killing her husband and then playing with their hope just to prove some kind of misguided point.
Not after he’d used David’s goodness to justify killing him.
No.
She wasn’t going to just stand there and take any of the man’s madness.
Rachel opened her mouth to repeat her command, but Marcus held up his hand.
“We’re going to leave Ms. Roberts alone for a while,” he said, already moving out of the shed. “I think she needs some time to cool down.”
Rachel felt all the sorrow and pain of David’s death washing over her again. This time the rage of knowing his killer and the motive behind it was hot on its heels.
If Marcus stayed any longer, he would meet someone that even Rachel hadn’t known existed.
A widow looking to avenge the man she’d sworn to love forever.
Or maybe Marcus did know exactly what was coming and how dangerous it was.
Without another word, look or evil little smile, he shut the door. The sound of scraping filled the shed as he put whatever had blocked the door before in front of it again.
For what felt like forever Rachel stayed in the middle of the shed, hands balled at her sides and rage pulsing through her body.
Then, slowly, it started to drain.
When it was gone, Rachel did the only thing she could.
She cried.
Chapter Nineteen
Tucker Hughes refused to say anything to Dane and Chance. He clammed up so fast that Dane was almost afraid he had passed out. But then he’d looked Dane in the eye.
That was when they both knew that they both knew.
Tucker had illegally adopted Marcus Highland’s nephew and had been raising him for almost a decade.
The million-dollar question was why.
Dane didn’t get to ask it, though. Not before chaos broke out. Not before two men were able to take Rachel straight from the hospital without any pushback. The only silver lining to the situation was that Rachel had managed to once again keep Lonnie out of harm’s way the best she could.
Though, instead of pretending like he was okay, this time Lonnie had been shaken. He’d cried as he’d relayed the conversation back to Dane.
“It’s my fault,” he had said once a search of the hospital had turned up empty. If Lonnie hadn’t been there, Dane would have hopped in his car and joined the motorcade of law enforcement that hit the streets. “I—I should have gone with them the first time. They wouldn’t have taken her!”
Dane had been fighting anger at himself and anger at the men who’d taken Rachel. He was fighting fear, too. Worry that they would hurt her—or worse—had nearly overwhelmed him, but he knew that losing focus would only make matters more difficult. He had placed his hands on the boy’s shoulders and knelt in front of him.
“Rachel made a choice,” he said sternly. “Those men, those bad men, wanted to take you. She decided she wasn’t going to let them. It was the right choice and one I would have made, too. There was nothing you could have done contrary to that. So stop blaming yourself and let’s figure this out.”
Lonnie had calmed down enough to get the rest of what the man had said out.
“Marnie is the neighbor,” Dane had translated for Chance. “She’s Rachel’s friend, too. But I don’t know who June—” Dane had jumped up like he’d been shocked. “June is Rachel’s cat! They’re at her house!”
After that Dane had taken Lonnie to the lobby with Suzy and a local police officer. The former had her phone out and was rerouting available deputies to Rachel’s house. It was a plan he’d called off once they were in Chance’s car.
“Last time we were in a hostage situation with Marcus Highland and his group, we ended up trying to overwhelm them with our numbers,” he had said once she picked up. “I don’t want to do that again.”
Suzy had trusted his judgment. “Tell us what you want to do and we’ll follow you.”
It was like a bad case of déjà vu, but Dane had told them what he thought would be the best plan.
Now, less than an hour later, Dane and Chance were at Marnie’s house. Her green Beetle was in the driveway, but there was no other sign that anyone else was in the vicinity. Still Dane and Chance searched the house quickly and quietly. But only after they’d broken the front door lock off and let themselves in.
Dane would pay for it later.
“Marcus doesn’t leave hostages alive long,” Dane said, once they were done. He nodded toward the woods. “This cuts through to the side of Rachel’s house. Maybe a three-minute jog.
Once we hit the creek it’ll be a hundred or so yards after that.”
“Are we going to wait for backup to get here?” Chance had his gun out, checking it.
“No,” Dane replied on reflex. “At least, I’m not. Wyatt made the decision to try to kill her the other day because she wasn’t essential to their goal. They want Lonnie. Not her. I don’t want to chance Marcus remembering that, either.”
Chance nodded. “I’m not trying to talk you out of it, Dane. We both know how good a shot I am. I’m all the backup you need.” The cowboy flashed a quick grin. Dane returned it.
“Thanks,” he had to say. “I mean it.”
Chance nodded again. His expression hardened. He looked to the woods. It was go-time.
Dane led the way, wordlessly going into the trees. He had walked the Roberts’s property enough with David through the years to be familiar with the land that butted up to it. The woods weren’t so dense that they couldn’t pass through, but they were thick enough that they could use the surroundings for cover if needed.
Which meant so could the men who had Rachel.
Dane took the direct path between Marnie’s house and Rachel’s, deciding to cut down on time. He didn’t know what the play was anymore. If the goal was to get Lonnie, would they use Rachel as leverage? Or was she bait?
Either way, Dane was done waiting around and asking questions.
A soft buzz in his pocket made Dane pause. He pulled his phone out. It was a text from Suzy. It made his blood run cold. He stopped in his tracks.
“What is it?” Chance asked at his side, voice low.
Dane cussed beneath his breath. “They can’t find Lonnie.” He said a few more really bad words. Chance joined in.
“There’s no way they would already be at Rachel’s house, then,” the cowboy pointed out. “Which means, not only do we have a lead, but—”
“Not all of their men are at the house,” Dane finished.
He didn’t want to point out there was a good chance they wouldn’t go back to Rachel’s if they had what they wanted. Who they wanted.
“We need to hurry, regardless,” Dane said.
“Don’t worry, after we get Rachel we’ll get Lonnie back, too,” Chance assured him.
Dane nodded. He started forward again. “You’re damn straight we will.”
The two of them hustled until they hit the creek. Dane walked into the water, holding his cell phone and gun above his chest. He didn’t think the water was deep enough to go over his head, but it had been a while since he’d swam there. The last thing they needed was to be soaking wet from head to toe and trying to be stealthy.
The water was cold but stayed beneath his ribs. Still not the best conditions for sneaking around, but he wasn’t about to waste time trying to find a dry place to cross. Once they were on the other side, Dane kicked off as much excess water as he could and stopped within the cover of a group of trees.
“In a few more yards we’ll be able to see the house,” he said, nodding in the direction he meant. “It’s the side of the house with an elevated deck that leads to a sliding-glass door that opens into the kitchen. If anyone is on that side of the house and looks out, we’ll be spotted plain as day once we leave the trees.”
Dane tapped the tree trunk with his index finger. “This is the house.” He tapped off to the side. “This is us.” He traced a half moon above both. “I’m going to use the trees we’re in now as cover and run to this tree line that umbrellas the house. From there it’s a straight shot to the back door. There’s no cover between that tree line and there, but the only windows that have a clear shot of the space between are in the laundry room and a bathroom. Hopefully no one is in either one and looking outside.”
“They won’t be if I make them look somewhere else,” Chance said with a sly smile. He tapped the bark that would be the front yard. “We should disable any vehicles just in case anyone tries to run. I can do that and also look out for anyone who might show up. I can also make some noise to draw their attention. It might be enough to get you in the house without anyone noticing.”
“It also puts the spotlight on you,” Dane said. “With no backup.”
Chance thumped the brim of his hat. “Good thing I’m a great shot.” He sobered when Dane didn’t laugh. “If Marcus Highland is the one calling the shots and he has Lonnie now, then the window to get Rachel might be closing fast. This is our best plan, boss.”
The last time Dane had made a plan, his best friend had been killed. Now there was more on the line. Rachel, Lonnie, Marnie and Chance. The woman he loved, the kid they’d do anything to save, a young woman who meant a lot to Rachel, and a close friend who meant a lot to Dane.
Worry and fear tried to push their way deeper into him. But this time Dane wasn’t going to second-guess himself.
“At least it’s not storming,” he said, pulling his gun up.
Chance nodded. “There is that.”
They shared a look that was their version of saying “good luck” and went in opposite directions. Dane followed the trees for a couple hundred yards before they started to thin out. He sprinted to the cover of the next tree line, following it until the back of the house was in view.
No one was in the yard as far as he could see. And even if they had been, a car alarm started going off at the front of the house. Chance.
Dane took a quick breath.
It was now or never.
He held his gun tight and started to run for the back door. The layout of the house in front of him was already pulled up in his mind. Once he stepped through the door, he would be in tight quarters. He’d have to shoot fast if anyone tried to attack. Then he’d have to—
A banging sound pulled Dane’s attention to his left. A few feet from the corner of the house was a shed. He’d never seen it before. Rachel must have gotten it recently. It looked brand-new.
Dane switched gears, falling back enough to get a better view of the shed door. Or where the door should have been. A metal container was pushed against it, blocking the bottom half.
And someone was banging on the other side of the door. Even from this distance he saw the force of it shake the structure.
Rachel.
Dane kept his gun high as he ran full-tilt toward the shed. He moved around the side, ready to shoot any guards that might be around, but came up empty. Whoever was in the shed was all-out throwing themselves at the door. Dane holstered his gun and focused on the container. It was an industrial toolbox. One he recognized as David’s. The last time Dane had seen it, it had been in the garage collecting dust.
Dane didn’t want to call out to whoever was inside for fear it would give away his location. Instead he planted his feet and bent to get a better hold on the toolbox. Even empty, the container was extremely heavy. Definitely a good makeshift lock for a door that opened outward. It took a few grunts and pushes before the toolbox budged, but once he had a good momentum, it was easier to clear the door. Though it scraped something awful against the shed’s exterior.
The banging stopped.
Dane pulled out his gun again.
Slowly he opened the door.
“Ahhh!”
Something flew at Dane’s head. He dodged to the side, barely missing it. Then Dane was looking at Rachel.
It was like every part of him had been reborn.
Rachel dropped the book in her hand and ran at him. He lowered his gun and pulled her into an embrace he felt in his bones.
“I’m so glad you’re okay,” he said into her hair. He squeezed once and then pulled away. “Are you okay?” Once again her eyes were swollen and red. She’d been crying. He caught one of her hands. Her knuckles were freshly bloodied. No doubt trying to get out.
Rachel nodded.
“Dane, Marcus is alive,” she whispered. “He came to talk to me. There was a man with a gun with him
. He was also at the hospital with... I’m assuming, Levi. I think Levi and Overalls are in the house, but I haven’t seen either of them. Did Lonnie get away?”
Dane nodded but knew his expression had only soured. Rachel tilted her head to the side.
“He was okay, but a few minutes ago I got a message that he had disappeared.”
Rachel tensed. “Do you think they’re coming back here with him?”
“If Marcus is in the house, I have to imagine so.”
Rachel nodded.
“Marnie has to be in there, too. We have to get inside,” she said decisively. “We have to end this.”
The car alarm stopped.
Dane shook his head. “It’s too dangerous. Backup is going to Marnie’s.” He felt his jaw harden. “I didn’t want to repeat what happened last time.”
Rachel grabbed his hand.
“Dane, Marcus told me...” She hesitated.
“What?”
Denim-blue eyes bored into his.
“Dane, he said he killed David and the rest of the men before he ever even called the department. There was nothing you or anyone could have done to save them.” She squeezed his hand. “They were already gone.”
Dane knew he should have felt some small part of relief. His decision to storm Marcus’s hideout when his gut told him something was wrong had plagued him for years. He’d gone over that plan thousands of times in painstaking detail. He’d worked through even more what-ifs and any and all plans he could come up with instead. He’d lost sleep, lost confidence, and lost some of his sanity since then. Just trying to understand what had gone wrong. Why he couldn’t save his friend.
Now he knew why.
David had already been dead.
That should have made Dane feel some kind of closure, yet all it did was make him mad.
The Negotiation Page 15