Santa Assignment

by Delores Fossen

  "I heard the report," Garrett explained, weaving in between some cars. He was definitely speeding, but Brayden was thankful for it. "You're sure it was Hyatt who took Ashley?"

  "Positive. I doubt he'll go to his brother's house, but I'm guessing Trevor will know where he is."

  "Might be fun getting Trevor to turn into a chatterbox." Garrett tipped his head to the blood on Brayden's coat. "How bad are you hurt?"

  "It looks worse than it is."

  "Good. Because it looks like you're wearing about a half pint of A-Positive." Garrett paused long enough to take a curve on what had to be two wheels. "Did Hyatt hurt Ashley?"

  Before he could answer, Brayden had to push aside some gut-wrenching images. Images of her fighting for his life, and hers, in the parking lot. "He hit her with the stun gun, but he didn't shoot her."

  At least, Hyatt hadn't done that in the parking lot. Hell, he could have done anything to her afterward. It'd been fifteen minutes, maybe twenty. That was a lifetime for a criminal to carry a victim to a secondary crime scene.

  "Don't go there," Garrett warned. "Keep those negative thoughts out of your head because I need you fully functioning here."

  "Oh, I'm functioning all right. Full throttle."

  "Well, you might want to lighten up on that throttle some. And remember, if this requires a little muscle, that's where I come in. I don't want you losing your badge over this."

  "What about your badge?" Brayden countered.

  Garrett dismissed that with a shrug. "People expect me to act like a thug. It's my whole badass, Lethal Weapon image. You, on the other hand, are not badass material. Not even close."

  Wrong. He was. Well, he was where Ashley and his baby were concerned. His body was practically begging for a fight.

  Garrett pulled to a loud stop in front of Trevor Chapman's house, and they both barreled out of the car. The noise must have alerted Trevor because he opened his front door and stepped onto the porch.

  "What's this—"

  That was as much as Trevor got out. Garrett hooked his arm around the man and shoved him inside.

  "Where's Hyatt?" Brayden demanded, shutting the door behind them.

  "I don't think I like your tone." He slung off Garrett's grip. "And I know I don't like being manhandled."

  "Where's Hyatt!" Brayden repeated.

  And it wasn't a request.

  Maybe it was the brutal tone or Garrett's menacing scowl, but fear crept into Trevor's eyes. "I don't know where he is. What happened?"

  Brayden wasn't even sure he could say the words, but somehow he got them out. "He kidnapped Ashley."

  No outraged gasp or look of stunned surprise. But there was something. Some heated emotion. Nothing wussy. Nothing light. This emotion was deep, and Brayden thought the man might actually be angry.

  "Did you tell him that you saw Ashley at headquarters?" Brayden demanded.

  "I might have mentioned it."

  Garrett latched onto a handful of Trevor's shirt and slammed his back against the wall. "Anything else you might have mentioned to Hyatt?"

  "Maybe. Maybe I said something about her having a doctor's appointment today." With his eyes dark, he looked at Brayden. "I overheard Ashley and you talking when you were in the interview room."

  It took every ounce of Brayden's self-control not to launch himself at the man. Trevor might not have been the one to kidnap Ashley, but he'd damn well given his brother the information necessary to do it.

  Brayden took a step closer until he was right in Trevor's face. It took a moment to unclench his teeth so he could speak. "Now, let's try this again. Where's Hyatt?"

  "I told you I don't know. And this is police harassment." His eyes narrowed. "I expected better from SAPD's leading Boy Scout. Does the Chief know you're here, Lieutenant?"

  Garrett tightened the grip he had on Trevor's shirt and did another body slam into the wall. It rattled some nearby paintings. "If you don't tell us where your scum-ball brother is, it'll be more than just harassment. Hyatt shot a cop and tried to kill him. You said it yourself—Brayden's the Boy Scout of the department. But guess what? I'm not."

  Trevor volleyed uneasy glances at both of them. What Brayden didn't see was that click of fear and desperation. That look of absolute panic to indicate that Trevor believed he might not live through this.

  Tired of wasting time, Brayden pulled out his weapon, the metal rasping against his leather holster. He put his gun to Trevor's head. Hard. So that it dug into his skin.

  "Talk," Brayden demanded.

  The click of fear happened almost immediately, as Brayden figured it would. He saw it in Trevor's eyes. The man gave an awkward nod. "He rented a house on Natchitoches Road. Just outside the city limits."

  "Be more specific," Brayden insisted.

  "It's a couple of miles from the race track. It's not easy to get to, lots of turns, and I'm not even sure if he's there. He didn't let me in on his plans."

  Brayden reholstered his gun. "Stay here with him," he told Garrett. "Make sure he doesn't try to warn his brother."

  Garrett nodded. "Please tell me you're not going out there alone?"

  He was. There was no other choice. "Call for silent backup. No one moves in unless I order it. Trevor here will provide you with directions—accurate directions—to Hyatt's house. Call me when you have them, but I want to get a head start. I also want side roads or any other access route I can use to get to this house."

  Brayden started for the door, adding his last instruction from over his shoulder. "If Trevor refuses to cooperate, I'll be back to beat the information out of him."

  And in his state of mind, that wasn't a bluff.

  Chapter Fourteen

  "Bet you were surprised to see me today, huh?" Hyatt taunted. "Ho, ho, ho."

  Ashley ignored him. Just as she'd ignored the other caustic remarks he'd tossed at her over the past forty-five minutes. She'd ignored him and remained quiet. Trying not to react, trying not to move a muscle. Even though she was almost positive she could move now.

  Best to let him think she was still incapacitated.

  She carefully watched where he was driving. Committing each turn to memory. He'd backtracked a couple of times, probably to make sure they weren't being followed, and now they were out of the city limits on a two-lane road with rolling hills and thick trees.

  And virtually no other traffic or houses.

  Since Hyatt was speeding, at least seventy miles an hour, that made it impossible for her to jump out of the car. But eventually he'd have to slow down. Or stop. And that's when she would make her move. Because somehow she had to get away, and she'd need to find her way back to the main highway when that happened.

  And it would happen.

  It had to happen. She couldn't die. Not here. Not like this. Because if so, her baby would die, too. And maybe even Colton.

  Maybe Brayden was already dead.

  After all, Hyatt had shot him. There'd been blood. She'd seen the blood.

  Ashley couldn't help it. That brought on the tears, and she choked back a sob. Crying definitely wouldn't help. Right now, she had to concentrate on escaping. Then, she could make sure Brayden was all right.

  "I'd just about given up hope of finding you," Hyatt commented in a discussing-the-weather tone. "Well, maybe given up isn't the right word. I would never have given up. Old scores have to be settled."

  Yes. She knew about old scores. Hyatt had killed Dana. He'd hurt Brayden. One way or another, he'd pay for both. She would see to it.

  Hyatt slowed, shoving his foot hard against the brakes. Ashley fastened her attention on the turn just ahead. A sharp turn. Which would no doubt require him to slow down even more. She inched her hand toward the door handle.

  So she'd be ready.

  The moment he made the turn, she'd bolt out of the car and start running. The woods were close to the road and thick enough that she might be able to make it behind some trees before he fired at her.

  Might.


  It wasn't a guarantee, but then nothing was at this point. Too bad he'd tossed her purse into the back seat. Not only was her phone in there, but she had some pepper spray, as well. Either would have come in handy.

  Hyatt approached the turn, slowing down even more. Ashley moved her hand closer to the handle. She adjusted her feet slightly so she could barrel out.

  "Don't even think about it," Hyatt said. He followed up that threat by whipping out the gun from the jacket of his Santa suit. He aimed it right at her.

  Ashley mentally cursed.

  So much for her ruse of not being able to move.

  "I figure you got the feeling back in your arms and legs at least a half hour ago," Hyatt explained. "The stun gun wasn't that powerful. Only about 70,000 volts. Definitely not strong enough to do any permanent damage. Just enough to restrain you for a little while."

  Even though that might be a lie, Ashley clung to that. Maybe the jolt hadn't hurt her baby.

  Without lowering his gun, Hyatt made the turn. And Ashley watched her escape plan fade away.

  "I have other things in mind for you," Hyatt went on. "Like for starters, a discussion. We'll rehash old times, specifically the trial."

  "And then you'll kill me."

  He shrugged. "Perhaps."

  There was no perhaps to it. Hyatt was obviously insane. He'd shot a cop in broad daylight and then kidnapped her. Definitely not the actions of a reasonable man. It was her guess that he planned to torture her, kill her and then go back on the run.

  "Why did you kill Dana?" Ashley asked. Not that she expected an answer. And she certainly didn't expect the question to help dissolve the obvious hatred he had for her. "I was your lawyer, not her. She had nothing to do with you being sentenced for a crime you committed."

  For the first time since they'd begun this nightmarish trip, she saw something hesitant in his body language. Definitely not the cocky demeanor he'd had so far.

  Hyatt shook his head. "I didn't kill her."

  Almost certainly a lie.

  "Actually, Dana was okay, even if she was married to a cop," he continued. "She got Trevor off with just parole. Gotta admire that about her."

  That okay part didn't mean Hyatt hadn't shot Dana by mistake. Maybe he'd expected her and not Dana to step out of that car.

  "Parole," Hyatt repeated. "Nice ending to that story, huh? But mine wasn't so nice, thanks to you and your little chat with the D.A."

  "That chat was routine, and he came to me, not the other way around. I didn't bargain."

  "I don't believe you. You got me a felony conviction. Five years in jail—"

  "Not a harsh sentence for attempted murder."

  "You see, that's where we disagree. It was harsh all right because it caused the board of directors to oust me as CEO of the family business. Not that I blame them. After all, they couldn't have their CEO out of commission for five years while doing time. Hardly conducive to good business."

  "Hardly," Ashley mumbled sarcastically.

  He laughed. "Love your sense of humor. Always have. But that particular love won't get you off the hook, darling. Because the person I blame for all of this is you."

  "Is that so?"

  "I should never have been tried for attempted murder. If I'd attempted to kill Miles, he'd be rotting in the ground right now. And I wouldn't have chosen to do it with my fists, either. I simply wanted to express my disappointment at the way he backstabbed Trevor and me on that business deal."

  "I think you got your point across. He was in a coma for two days and had twenty-three stitches."

  "Yeah. I made my point." Another chuckle. "Old score settled."

  Was it really? Or perhaps a more reasonable explanation was that Hyatt hadn't been able to find Miles so he could finish the job. After all, Miles had been in hiding, too. That had probably saved them both.

  Until now, that is.

  "Of course, now I have another little problem." With the gun still in his hand, Hyatt gave the rearview mirror an adjustment. "If O'Malley's alive, I think he might know that I'm the one who took you. I'd hoped for incognito status, but once again I have you to thank for screwing up my life."

  Hyatt made yet another turn. This time, down a narrow country road. He drove to the end, less than a mile, and brought the car to a stop in front of a modest one-story brick house. Ashley knew if he was able to get her inside, her chances of survival would decrease significantly.

  But then, her chances weren't very good if she made a run for it.

  Not with that gun still aimed at her.

  Without taking his gaze off her, Hyatt opened his car door and planted one foot on the ground. "Let's go over the rules so there's no misunderstanding. You'll get out, without trying to escape or do anything else to upset me, and then you'll walk into the house. Because you see, even though it's not my first choice of how things should happen, I will shoot you, Ashley. Understand?"

  She nodded. Not that her nod was a compliance. Because she fully intended to do something, and it would almost certainly upset him.

  "Open your door," he instructed, walking around the front of the car toward her.

  She did. Slowly. Her muscles felt unsteady, probably a leftover effect of the stun gun, but she forced herself to move, to concentrate. Thankfully, the chilly winter air helped. The wind gusted against her face.

  Ashley glanced around. There was a cluster of oaks on the right side of the house. Unfortunately, they were at least twenty yards away.

  Too far.

  Hyatt would easily get off a shot if she tried to run there.

  Behind her, also to her right, there was an old-fashioned well. One made of stone and mortar and topped with a crumbling wooden roof. It wasn't very wide, but if she could get to it, it would at least provide her with some protection.

  Temporary protection.

  Under the circumstances, that was the most she could hope for.

  Ashley stepped out of the car. Again, slowly. While she checked the ground around her feet. It was littered with limestone rocks. Some were small enough that she'd be able to lift them. She mentally chose the one closest to her right hand and came up with a plan.

  A risky plan.

  She'd drop down, grab the rock, and when Hyatt rushed around to her side of the car, she would hit him with it. After that, she'd get behind the well and then do whatever it took to get away.

  Whatever it took could encompass a lot.

  Ashley left the car door open, in case she had to use it for cover. And she prepared herself for the fight.

  "On the count of three," she mumbled to herself.

  "Get moving," Hyatt ordered.

  One.

  Two.

  And she saw the movement. The shadowy figure in the trees to her right.

  Brayden.

  Mercy, it was Brayden. Alive.

  Relief flooded through her.

  But for only a split second.

  Because Hyatt must have seen the movement, too. He turned toward Brayden and fired.

  * * *

  BRAYDEN DROPPED to the ground, praying that Ashley would do the same. Praying that she could somehow get herself out of Hyatt's line of fire.

  She did.

  Ashley grabbed a chunk of limestone and took cover behind the car door. It wasn't enough. Not nearly enough because Hyatt lunged across the hood toward her.

  Brayden fired. And cursed when Hyatt rolled to the side just in time to avoid being hit. The man dropped down onto the other side of the car. Away from Ashley. But also away from Brayden's bullets.

  Brayden hadn't wanted it to come down to this, and he certainly hadn't intended for Hyatt to spot him so soon. He'd wanted to get Ashley out of the way first. Perhaps give her a signal to drop down, so he'd be able to get in a better position and have a cleaner shot at Hyatt.

  But that hadn't happened.

  Now, Ashley was in more danger than she had been just moments earlier.

  Hell.

  Fearing that Hyatt would shoo
t her from beneath the car, Brayden came out of cover again. A lure. To draw Hyatt's attention to him.

  "Chapman, throw down your weapon and surrender," Brayden yelled.

  Not that he expected Hyatt Chapman to do that any time soon. But he wanted the man's focus away from Ashley.

  It worked.

  Instead of firing beneath the car, Hyatt popped up, fired at Brayden, and ducked right back down again.

  Brayden did some ducking of his own, throwing himself back to the ground. Thankfully so did Ashley. Keeping low, she scrambled toward the well and dived behind it. All things considered, it was probably the best spot in the yard for her. But with Hyatt so close, it still wasn't safe.

  While keeping his weapon aimed and ready to fire, Brayden inched closer and peered through a patch of dried weeds. He could see the car, easily. And he could see Ashley. She was pressed against the well with rocks in each hand. But he couldn't tell where Hyatt was. He certainly didn't want the man racing around the back of the car to get to Ashley. If so, she'd be trapped, with no place to run or hide.

  That couldn't happen.

  "Other officers are already on the way," Brayden informed Hyatt, hoping it would cause the man to fire again. "You can't escape."

  Hyatt stayed put. "Wanta make a bet? The cops haven't been able to find me in two and a half years."

  "I found you," he pointed out.

  "Blind luck."

  "No luck involved. Your brother told me exactly where you were." Brayden crawled forward. "Trevor was very cooperative. In fact, so cooperative that I'm thinking about giving him a good citizenship award or something."

  Silence.

  Dead silence.

  Maybe Hyatt was seething about his brother's possible betrayal. If so, that anger might cause him to make a mistake.

  "Did you hurt Trevor?" Hyatt demanded.

  Brayden inched closer before he answered. "I didn't have to. He got scared and talked. He doesn't want to be an accessory to another felony."

  "Liar!" Hyatt's voice was still resounding through the air when he darted out of cover and fired.

  The shot came close. Too close. It smashed into the weeds just to the right of Brayden's head. However, the close call gave him exactly the information he needed. Hyatt was on the side of the driver's door.