Okay. So, maybe she did know the reasons for his second and third thoughts.
“I’m wrong for you,” he corrected. Then shrugged. “That doesn’t stop me from wanting you.”
The corner of her mouth lifted, and she pushed her tousled hair from her face. Sexy hair, he noticed. Actually, everything about her fell into that category, including her generous curves and that welcoming smile that she no doubt hadn’t meant to be so welcoming.
She stood, went closer, took the cup from him and had a huge sip of his coffee. “What do you want me to say? That I can be content living in a place like Mustang Ridge? That I’m not a city girl?”
“Nothing wrong with being those things,” Royce admitted. “But if we were looking for something long-term, it might be a problem.”
She stared at him. “Long-term?”
He let his gaze drift to her stomach. “Oh. That kind of long-term.” She shook her head. “I don’t want you to feel trapped.”
Like your father.
She didn’t say the words, but it was there in her tone and the look she gave him. “What? You don’t think I’d be a good dad?” he asked.
“No. You would be,” she quickly answered. “I’m just not sure it’d be fair to put you in that position.”
“Fair?” For some reason, that riled him. “Sophie, none of this was fair. Your brother drugged us, and if he hadn’t done that, we probably wouldn’t have had unprotected sex.”
“If that’s what happened.” Sophie dropped a kiss on his forehead.
Sophie had another sip of his coffee before she tipped her head to the papers.
“Anything?” she asked.
So sex, possible future sex and long-term plans were no longer the topic of discussion. Royce figured he should feel relieved, but he knew it was just delaying the inevitable. Eventually, they’d have those test results, and even if they were negative, the attraction sure wasn’t going to dim.
“According to Agent Ryland at the FBI,” he explained after he collected his thoughts, “Milton Wells from Investacorp doesn’t exist. A dummy name for a dummy company.”
She stared at the papers a moment and then huffed. “So, he could be anyone?”
“Yeah. But he’d still have to be someone your father knows since they signed the papers together. By the way, I tried to call him this morning, but the call went straight to voice mail.”
That in itself wasn’t suspicious. After all, it was early. But there was something about her father that bothered him.
“I talked to Billy this morning, too,” Royce continued. “Neither your father nor brother has called the sheriff’s office to find out where you are.”
Royce was about to ask if that was out of the ordinary, but he could tell from the concern in her eyes that it was.
She shook her head. “Maybe Lott is with them, and they don’t want to call because he might learn where I am.”
That was possible. Lott would definitely go to her family or Travis to find out where she was. Still, if Sophie was his family member and essentially missing, he’d be out looking for her.
Blowing out a long, weary breath, she sank down onto the foot of the bed. “I have to at least consider my father and brother are suspects.”
Royce settled for a nod. He was doing more than considering it because they both had strong motives.
Money, and lots of it.
If Sophie was dead and out of the way, Eldon would have the money to pay off the loan shark and revive the ranch. Stanton and he might also be nursing some ill feelings about being completely cut out of Diane Conway’s will. But what didn’t fit in that scenario was the fact that Stanton had drugged Sophie and him.
His phone buzzed, cutting off that thought, and Royce recognized the number when he glanced at the screen.
Special Agent Kade Ryland.
Royce had already spoken to the man twice this morning, but he was anxious to hear if the agent had found anything out about Milton Wells. Sophie was clearly anxious, too, because she moved closer to the phone, and Royce put the call on Speaker.
“Deputy McCall,” Ryland greeted. “Hope you’re sitting down for this, but the order to take Ms. Conway into protective custody has been pulled.”
Royce could see the relief go through her. It went through him, too. “Thank you,” he said to the agent.
“Don’t thank me. Lott pulled the order himself.”
That took away a little of Royce’s relief. “Why?” he asked suspiciously.
“Lott says it’s no longer necessary. He said he found proof of who’s been trying to kill you and Ms. Conway, and he’s on his way now to Mustang Ridge to make an arrest.”
Sophie leaned on the desk and sank down onto the edge of it. “Who is Lott arresting?” Since her voice had little sound, Royce repeated the question so the agent could hear it.
Agent Ryland cleared his throat first. “Sophie’s father, Eldon Conway. Lott’s picking him up at the ranch and taking him to the Mustang Ridge jail.”
* * *
Sophie tried to tamp down the feeling of panic, but she was failing big-time.
Not long before Agent Ryland’s call, she’d accepted that her father and brother could be suspects. Or so she thought she had. But it cut her to the core to know that Lott claimed to have proof of her father’s guilt when her father had been the one person she’d tried to protect.
“We’ll get to the bottom of this,” Royce said to her. He’d already given her various assurances of that as they’d thrown their things into the SUV and started the drive back to Mustang Ridge.
Sophie hoped that was possible. “Even if Lott found the incriminating papers for the land deal, what kind of proof could there be that my father tried to kill us?”
Royce glanced at her, and Sophie saw the sympathy in his eyes. A stark contrast to the look he’d given her the night before. He also didn’t hesitate, which meant he’d given this some thought.
“Jimmy Haggard, the gunman I questioned, could have named your father,” Royce offered.
“But wouldn’t Jake have told you?” she asked.
He shook his head. “The Rangers took him into custody late yesterday. Haggard could have worked out some kind of plea deal with them.”
“And Haggard could have lied to save his own skin.”
Royce reached across the seat, caught her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
It helped.
Well, it helped as much as something like that could. But what would help even more was speaking to her father and hearing him say he had nothing to do with this. So far, she’d had zero luck with that, since her father wasn’t answering his phone. That wasn’t so unusual, though, since he often forgot to carry his cell with him and the snowstorm might have interfered with service.
“Maybe it wasn’t a deal that Haggard struck,” she said, more to herself than Royce. She was thinking out loud, trying to make sense of this. “Maybe it was Travis. Or Stanton.”
Royce squeezed her hand again. “You’ll drive yourself crazy by guessing like this. In a half hour or so, we’ll know for sure.”
That was an optimistic timetable because the snowy roads would certainly slow them down. Sophie refused to think of what would happen if they couldn’t get through.
There was little traffic on the interstate, probably because the snowplows were still out, but Royce kept glancing at the side mirrors. No doubt to make sure they weren’t being followed. Maybe that meant he didn’t believe her father was guilty.
Royce took out his phone and pressed in some numbers. Since it was on Speaker, a few seconds later Sophie heard Billy answer.
“Any sign of Lott yet?” Royce asked the deputy.
“None, but then the roads are still pretty bad here. Might take him a while to get out to t
he Conway ranch and then back here to the sheriff’s office.” Billy paused. “You had a chance to talk to Eldon?”
“Not yet. Sophie’s tried to call him a couple of times.”
Yes, and she’d try again when Royce finished this call. She didn’t want her father to try to run from Lott, but she didn’t want the agent to spring an arrest on her father, either.
“I’ll let you know the minute they arrive,” Billy assured him. Royce clicked the end call button, handed the phone to her and took the turn off the interstate.
The ramp was mostly clear of the snow, but Royce had to slow down the moment he got onto the two lane road that would take them back to town. It would be slow going, and that didn’t do much to steady her nerves.
Sophie tried to call her father again but got the same results. It went to voice mail. It was the same when she tried to contact Stanton. Like before, she left messages for them to call her and she gave the number of the prepaid cell phone.
“Nothing,” she relayed to Royce.
She took a deep breath, trying to concentrate on keeping watch, but the dizziness hit her. Not an overwhelming sensation, but Sophie did touch her hand to her head.
“What’s wrong?” Royce immediately asked.
Thankfully, the dizziness went as quickly as it came. “I’m okay,” she assured him. “I’ll get something to eat when we get to Mustang Ridge.”
Royce gave her another concerned glance, but he didn’t voice what they were both thinking. She really needed to get her hands on a pregnancy test—soon. But for now, Sophie had more immediate concerns.
She looked down at the phone that she still had in her hand and groaned when she saw they no longer had service. A dead zone. So, even if her father got her message, he might not be able to call her back right away.
Even though Royce didn’t make a sound, Sophie heard the change in his breathing, and her gaze snapped to him. He was volleying glances into the side and rearview mirrors, and she looked behind them to see what had garnered his attention.
A semitruck.
It wasn’t unusual for commercial trucks to be traveling here since the road led to several small towns, but it was obvious that Royce had an uneasy feeling about it.
“A problem?” she asked.
Royce shook his head. “I’m not sure.”
He kept watch. So did Sophie. And she soon saw what had put the concern on Royce’s face. The truck was going too fast, and the road was icy and narrow. Passing them wouldn’t be safe.
Royce tapped his brakes, no doubt to make sure the driver of the semi saw them. But the driver didn’t slow down. He continued to barrel at them. Closer. And closer.
“Hell,” Royce growled. “Make sure your seat belt is on.”
The warning barely had time to register in Sophie’s mind when she felt the jolt that slung her body forward.
The truck plowed right into the back of their SUV.
16
Royce tried to brace himself for the impact, but there was no way to do that with the huge truck crashing into them. Their SUV was much smaller, and the snowy road didn’t help. Royce had to fight the steering wheel just to keep the SUV from going into the ditch.
“Oh, God.” Sophie grabbed on to the dash with both hands.
And Royce knew why. The semi came at them again, bashing into them and sending the SUV into a skid.
Royce turned the steering wheel into the skid and tapped the brakes. However, he’d barely gotten control when the truck slammed into them again. He saw the back bumper fly off, and the rear-lift door flew up.
The bitter cold air immediately rushed into the cab of the SUV. So did the roaring sounds of the semi. It was like some monster bearing down on them for another attack.
Because the semi was so high off the ground, Royce couldn’t see the driver or if it was just one person in on this attack. He suspected there were others since this seemed to be an attempt to kill them.
So, who was behind this?
One of their suspects, no doubt, because the odds were sky-high that this was connected to their investigation.
The semi crashed into them again and ripped off the entire rear door. Even if Royce managed to keep the SUV on the road, it wouldn’t be long before the semi literally tore their vehicle apart. Then Sophie and he would either be killed in the impact or else would have to face down whoever was doing this.
Royce risked glancing at her. There was no color in her cheeks, but she was no longer holding on to the dash. Sophie was rifling through the glove compartment, and she took out the extra gun and ammo that Royce had seen the day before. Maybe, just maybe, they’d live long enough to use that ammo on the SOB who was doing this.
“Grab one of the lighters, too,” he told her.
She probably had no idea why he’d want that, but if this truck managed to get them off the road and they had to escape into the woods, the lighter might come in handy to build a fire.
Another hit from the semi, and Royce felt the back tires give way. Thank God there was no other traffic on the road, because the SUV shot straight out into the opposite lane, and they headed for the ditch.
“Hold on,” Royce warned Sophie as she crammed the gun, ammo and lighter into her jacket pockets.
The adrenaline was pumping through him. His heart racing out of control. But Royce forced himself to do a split-second assessment of their situation. Yeah, they were going to crash. No way to stop that. But they would hit the ditch and beyond that there were some trees.
And even a small wood-frame farmhouse.
Maybe there was someone inside who would see what was going on and use a landline to call 9-1-1.
Royce was certain they’d need backup.
If they survived, that is.
The semi slammed into them again, clipping the back of the driver’s side of the SUV. The impact completely dislodged the tire, and it flew through the air, bouncing off the semi. Royce did what he could to keep control of the SUV—it wasn’t much—but he put a death grip on the steering wheel and tried to keep them on the road.
He failed.
The SUV plowed nose-first into the snow-and ice-filled ditch.
The airbags deployed, slapping into them and knocking the breath out of Royce. He immediately looked at Sophie to make sure she was alive. She was, thank God. Not only alive but able to move.
Royce moved, too. Fighting for air, he slapped down the bag and drew the gun from his shoulder holster.
Beside him, Sophie did the same and then threw open the door. Or rather she tried to do that. She only got it open a few inches before the bottom edge of the door jammed against the frozen ditch.
Royce looked out his side window and saw both doors of the semi fly open. That upped the urgency for Sophie and him, and he twisted his body so he could kick the passenger’s door. With the critical seconds ticking off in his head, he gave it another kick. And another.
Before it finally flew open.
“Move!” he said to Sophie, though she no doubt understood the need to do exactly that.
She practically spilled out of the SUV and landed on the side of the ditch. Royce pushed her out of the way so he could get out, too, and then he grabbed her by the arm so they could start running. He didn’t look back because he figured whoever had been in that semi was armed.
He was right.
A shot flew by them just as Royce shoved Sophie behind a tree.
Royce cursed for putting her in this situation again. And then he cursed the person responsible for this attack. He was sick and tired of Sophie being in danger and not even knowing the reason why.
Another shot came, tearing through a chunk of the tree trunk and showering them with splinters. Royce didn’t return fire. Sophie had a handful of extra ammo, plus the backup weapon, but h
e didn’t know how long this fight would go on. Best not to use any bullets until it became absolutely necessary.
He figured that wouldn’t be long from now.
“How many?” she asked.
Since Sophie was about to peer out from the tree, Royce pulled her to the ground and looked for himself. “There are three.”
All of them were wearing ski masks and camouflage clothes just like the other two gunmen who’d attacked them at his house. Now the new trio was using the wrecked SUV for cover, but only two of them were poised to fire.
The other appeared to be searching through the SUV.
For what, though?
Royce tried to keep an eye on him, but that was hard to do with the other two continuing to fire shots at them. Each bullet tore away more of the tree, and Sophie and he couldn’t just sit there and wait to be gunned down. He needed to put some distance between the shooters and them and then get into a better position to return fire.
“There’s no service out here,” he heard Sophie say, and it took him a moment to realize that she was looking at the cell phone.
Royce hadn’t even known that she had managed to hang on to it. It might come in handy if they could get out of this dead spot for service. Of course, even if they could call, help wouldn’t get there for a while, but a while was better than nothing. Royce would take all the help he could get to keep Sophie safe.
With the shots still coming fast and furious, Royce glanced behind them at the pair of oaks. They were much wider than the cottonwood they were using for cover now, and it would give Sophie and him several extra feet of breathing room. Plus, it had the added bonus of being even closer to the house. He didn’t want anyone inside being hurt from the gunfire, but a house would give them much better protection than the trees.
“Stay on your stomach,” Royce instructed her, though he had to shout over the roar of the gunfire. “And crawl there.” He tipped his head to the oak.
“What are you going to do?” she asked.
“Try to give you a diversion. It’ll be okay,” he quickly added when he saw that she was about to argue with him. “Hurry.”
Angel of Mercy & Standoff at Mustang Ridge Page 36