Weston frowned at her, probably because he hadn’t wanted her to be part of this conversation. But Addie was part of it. Heck, she was the reason for it, and Boggs might say more to her than he would to Weston.
“What memories?” she repeated when Boggs gave them the silent treatment again.
“You tell me.” Boggs no longer sounded upset. The anger crept into his voice. “The FBI is scrambling to listen to the recording of your session from earlier today, the one you did at Daisy’s house. And I can’t get a single person to tell me what’s on those recordings.”
Good grief. That’s what this is about? But Addie rethought that. Maybe this meant Boggs believed she’d remembered exactly who he was.
Her birth father and a serial killer.
“You expect us to be torn up that you don’t have a rat in the FBI who’ll leak secrets to you?” Weston challenged. “Or is this some kind of confession? If so, spit it out.”
“No confession. Not about that anyway. I just know that childhood memories can be planted.” Boggs paused again. “And I think that’s exactly what happened with Addie.”
Since she hadn’t remembered much, Addie doubted the planted-memory theory. If someone had gone to the trouble to do that, they would have planted details that would have led to her identifying something or someone. But it did lead her to another question.
“Do you really think someone would have tried to plant memories about you?” she asked.
“Of course.” No hesitation that time. “I’m a powerful man in the middle of a campaign, and what better way to discredit me than to try to smear my name with the false memories planted in your head.”
“Who would have done that?” Weston snapped.
“I’m not sure.”
But Addie got the feeling that Boggs did know. Was he trying to protect Ogden because he was Boggs’s own son? Or was this about his old friend, Canales?
“You know,” Weston continued, “there’s one way for you to discredit what Addie remembered. You could have a DNA test done to prove you’re not the Moonlight Strangler.”
“What did she remember?” Boggs shouted.
So Weston had hit a big nerve with the hint, or rather the lie, that she’d witnessed something as a child, something to indicate that Boggs was indeed the serial killer.
“I’ll tell you what she remembered when I have your DNA results,” Weston countered.
“No.” Boggs shouted that, too. And he repeated it. “I’m not the Moonlight Strangler. I’m not!”
“Then prove it.” Weston put that challenge out there. And they waited. And waited.
“A DNA test could be a problem for me,” Boggs finally said. “Not because it would prove I’m a killer. It wouldn’t. But I have a secret that needs to stay hidden.”
“Excuse me?” Weston cursed again. “This is a murder investigation, Boggs. You’re a suspect, and that’s about to be all over the news. So what secret is worse than that?”
“I fathered a child.” Boggs sounded as if he were choosing his words carefully. “Not Addie.”
“Ogden?” Addie asked.
“No. Not him, either. A son who was born twenty years ago. A lowlife. And his DNA’s in the system because of multiple arrests. He has nothing to do with the Moonlight Strangler, nothing to do with the attacks or your investigation.”
It didn’t take Addie long to fill in the blanks. “But if people found out that you fathered this lowlife while cheating on your wife, it wouldn’t mesh with the family values you’re spouting about in your campaign.”
Boggs’s silence confirmed that. However, that wasn’t the only question Addie had.
“‘It’s too late,’ you said earlier. ‘Everything has been set into motion.’ What did you mean?”
Yet another long hesitation. “I’m sorry, Addie. Really sorry.”
Boggs ended the call, and, still cursing, Weston hit redial. The man didn’t answer, but there was a knock at the bedroom door. Addie was still reeling from Boggs’s call so it took her a moment to realize something had to be wrong for one of the marshals to come to her door at night.
“You need to get up right now,” Daniel said from the other side of the door.
Weston did, and while he pulled on his boxers, he hurried to throw open the door. “What happened?”
“Our location’s been compromised,” Daniel said, already hurrying back up the hall. “We need to move Addie right now.”
* * *
WESTON FOUGHT THROUGH that punch of dread and began to throw on his clothes. Addie did the same.
One glance at her and, even in the dim light, he could see the fear on her face. He hated that it was there. Hated that once again they might be on the verge of another attack.
“Compromised? How?” Weston called out to Daniel.
“We’re not sure yet. But someone just triggered the sensor on the road.”
“Maybe a deer or something?” Weston hoped. Prayed, actually. Anything was better than another hired gun. Or worse—the Moonlight Strangler.
“No,” Daniel answered. “It’s someone in a car.”
Hell. Weston doubted this was someone out for an evening drive.
“Maybe it’s nothing,” she whispered.
“Maybe.” But Weston figured Addie didn’t believe that any more than he did.
He finished dressing, fast, and with Addie right behind him, they went into the hall. The lights had already all been turned off, and Kirk was at the front window, his gun drawn and a pair of night scope binoculars pressed to his eyes.
“See anything?” Weston asked. Beside him, Daniel slipped on a Kevlar vest and handed one to Weston and another to Addie. Kirk was already wearing one.
“I’m not seeing nearly enough.” Kirk handed the binoculars to Weston so he could have a look. Before he did, however, Weston motioned for Addie to stay away from the windows.
It took Weston a moment to spot the dark-colored SUV. It wasn’t moving but it was parked about thirty yards from the house. He couldn’t see the driver through the tinted windshield, but the exhaust from the engine was mixing with the cold air and was creating a mist around the vehicle.
“I’ve already called for backup,” Daniel explained, “but we’re looking at thirty minutes or more before it arrives.”
That was way too long. Weston doubted whoever was in that SUV would wait a half hour before doing whatever he was planning on doing. But it did make him wonder—why was the driver just sitting there? Maybe because whoever arrived for backup would be walking into a trap.
“I’m going out the back door,” Kirk said, already heading to the door off the kitchen. “I need to check the car and see if someone managed to put a tracking device on it.”
Well, that would explain how the place had been compromised, since Weston was certain they hadn’t been followed. However, it wouldn’t explain how someone had managed to put a tracker on the car in the first place.
Unless...
Weston cursed. “Someone could have been hiding in the ditch during that last attack.”
With all the chaos going on—the cows and the shots being fired—they wouldn’t have easily noticed something like that. Especially since the side windows had been cracked and webbed from the bullets.
Daniel made a sound of agreement and hurried to the side window. No doubt so he could cover Kirk. The detached garage wasn’t far, only about five feet from the house, but Kirk would be out in the open for a few critical moments where he could be gunned down.
“Get on the floor behind the sofa,” Weston told Addie, and he kept his attention on the SUV.
The vehicle still wasn’t moving. It was just sitting there like a dangerous animal stalking them.
There was a swooshing sound. Not a gunshot, though. A moment later, Daniel cursed and ran toward the back door.
Weston saw it then. The blaze in the garage. Someone had launched a firebomb into the building.
“What’s wrong?” Addie asked.
&n
bsp; Weston wanted to assure her that everything was okay, but it wasn’t. Far from it. “Did Kirk get out?” Weston called to Daniel.
A moment later, though, he had his answer when Kirk practically came crashing through the back door. “We need to get out of the house,” Kirk insisted, his words rushed. His breath gusting.
Addie’s was gusting, too, and even though she couldn’t see the fire in the garage, she could no doubt smell the smoke that was already starting to make its way to the house.
“Who’s out there?” Weston asked.
But Kirk shook his head and motioned for them to hurry to the door. “Someone with darn good aim—on the road near that SUV. The car’s destroyed, and I’m thinking the house will be the next target.”
It would be.
That meant they had to get out now. No choice about that. But it also meant that person with darn good aim could pick them off the moment they stepped outside.
Weston grabbed a coat from the sofa and handed it to Addie. In the same motion, he took hold of her arm and got her moving.
When they’d arrived at the safe house, he’d familiarized himself with the grounds, and there wasn’t much out there they could use for cover. Still, there were a few things that might work especially since it was dark.
Might.
They headed for a woodpile about three feet high on the side of the house, and they ducked behind it while Addie put on the coat. It was freezing, literally, but they might not have a choice about being outside until backup arrived. Maybe the coat would help. Maybe the Kevlar vest would, too, though Kevlar wouldn’t stop a fatal bullet to the head.
Weston positioned Addie between himself and the woodpile so he could give her at least some protection. His gaze fired all around them. The marshals did the same. And Weston got his first real look at the garage.
Or rather what was left of it.
The fire was already eating its way through the wooden building, and soon it would be nothing but ash. But why had their attackers gone after the car instead of the house?
Obviously, the person behind this hadn’t wanted them to use the car to escape, but if that firebomb had gone into the house, then they probably wouldn’t have been in any shape to get out of there. And it was possible they’d all be dead.
Did that mean the person didn’t want to kill them?
That question was still repeating in his head when he heard another of those swishing sounds. Weston pushed Addie to the ground.
Just in time.
Judging from the sound of breaking glass, the firebomb crashed through one of the windows in the front of the house, and within seconds, the flames and the smoke started to shoot out.
“The idiot who fired that is somewhere on the road near the car,” Daniel told them.
Yeah, Weston had already come to the same conclusion. He’d come to another conclusion, too.
A bad one.
If the shooter could launch a firebomb at the house and the garage, then he could also hit the woodpile.
“We need to warn the backup,” Weston insisted. “And we need to move.”
Kirk took care of a text to warn whoever was responding as backup so Weston glanced around for a possible escape route. They didn’t exactly have a lot of options, though. Basically, everything in the line of sight of the shooter was off-limits.
That left the old barn.
And it was a good thirty yards away.
Thankfully, the darkness, fire and the smoke had created a semicover that would hopefully conceal them enough, and the barn was probably out of range from their attacker. If the guy tried to get closer to deliver a firebomb into the barn, then he’d face the same problem they had.
Very little cover.
Weston would be able to see him and maybe take him out.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Daniel asked him, tipping his head to the barn.
Weston nodded. There were two trees between the barn and them and an old bathtub that’d likely been used as a watering trough. It’s wasn’t much but it’d have to do.
“Stay low and move fast,” Weston told Addie, and helped her to her feet.
The marshals took up cover on either side of her while Weston stayed in front. They started to run the moment they came out from behind the woodpile and headed for the tub.
Not a second too soon.
Because the third firebomb came flying through the air.
Chapter Eighteen
Addie didn’t look back, but she heard the now-familiar sound of the firebomb crashing into something. The woodpile, no doubt, and she had that confirmed when the four of them scrambled behind the old cast-iron tub.
Sweet heaven.
If they’d stayed just another second or two, they would have been caught in that tinderbox. Her heart was already in her throat. Already pounding too hard. She tried to steady it for the baby’s sake, but she failed.
The ground was frozen, and it didn’t take long for the cold to seep through her jeans and shoes. Weston was practically on top of her, the front of his body pressing against her back. She could feel the thud of his heartbeat and the tightness of his muscles.
“It’ll be okay,” Weston told her.
At best that was wishful thinking, but Addie figured it was closer to a lie than anything else. They were far from okay, and if backup didn’t arrive soon, they could all die.
Because the Moonlight Strangler or someone else wanted to kill her.
That broke her heart, not only for her precious baby. But also for Weston and the marshals who’d gotten caught up in this mess.
Addie looked back, and her gaze connected with Weston’s. Thanks to the watery moonlight, she could actually see him. Despite his attempt to reassure her, the worry and the fear were right there, all over his face. But she also saw something else.
Determination.
“He’s not getting to you,” Weston said like an oath.
Even though there was no way he could guarantee that, it gave her hope and was a reminder that she couldn’t give in to the fear. The stakes were too high for that.
“We have to move fast again,” Weston added a moment later.
She’d already spotted the pair of trees between them and the barn, and that’s where they headed. Addie held her breath, bracing herself for another firebomb or even gunfire.
But nothing happened.
They made it to the trees, ducking behind them. Immediately, the marshals and Weston surveyed the area. No doubt looking for anyone trying to sneak closer. But it was impossible to see the road now because of the smoke and fire.
“Come on,” Daniel said, and they all took off again.
Even though Weston was keeping watch, he was also glancing at her. And cursing. Probably because he was afraid that all of this running wouldn’t be good for the baby. That didn’t concern her so much since she’d been physically active on the ranch, but Addie was terrified about what the stress was doing. And that thought brought on the anger.
She hated that monster out there. Hated that he was trying to take everything away from her.
They moved behind another tree. Not nearly wide enough to cover them all, and that’s likely why they only stayed there a few seconds. Just long enough for Addie to catch her breath.
They started for the barn. Such as it was. It appeared to be falling apart, and the door was literally hanging on by a hinge. It was swaying back and forth with the gusting night air.
Her lungs were burning now from the cold and exertion. And she was shivering despite the jacket. Every step they took was a reminder that it could be her last.
But no more firebombs.
No shots of any kind.
They finally made it to the rickety barn, and Weston pulled her behind the back of it. There was no door there, only the one in the front, but he soon took care of that problem. He bashed his shoulder against some of the boards. It didn’t take much for several of them to give way, and he pushed them aside to make an opening.
>
“Wait here,” Daniel insisted, and he stooped down to maneuver himself through the makeshift opening.
Daniel kept his gun lifted, but he didn’t go far. Just a few steps inside. “Can’t see a thing,” he grumbled.
Too bad. Because someone could be hiding in there. Yes, there was a sensor on the road, but that didn’t mean their attacker hadn’t managed to get a hired thug in through the pasture and into the barn.
Daniel moved deeper into the barn while the rest of them waited. Addie forced herself to slow down her breathing and tried to stay calm. Hard to do with every nerve in her body on full alert.
That full alert went even higher when she heard a sound. Not from inside the barn but from the area in front of the burning house.
A gunshot.
And it came right at them.
Weston cursed, sheltering her with his body. Or at least he was trying to do that. The shooter clearly had them in his line of sight.
“Get inside,” Weston insisted, and he pushed her through the opening of the barn, following right in behind her.
Kirk stepped in as well, the three lawmen instantly pivoting in all directions. No doubt looking for anyone who was about to attack them.
The barn was indeed dark, but there was some moonlight filtering in through the front door. There were also holes in the roof, and the light came through like needles hitting on the hay-strewn floor. Not nearly enough illumination, though, to see much beyond where they were standing in the middle of the barn.
There were shadows.
Plenty of them. And plenty of places for a gunman to hide, too.
It was also cold. So cold that Addie could see her own breath, and she started to shiver.
None of them said a word. They all stood there, just listening. And thankfully the shots outside stopped so that made it a little easier to hear what was going on. Well, it would have if the wind hadn’t been causing that door to creak or if her own heartbeat hadn’t been crashing in her ears.
Weston maneuvered her away from the opening. Away from the door, too, and about five feet away into what was left of a stall. Daniel stayed in front of her while Kirk went to the left. Weston, to the right.
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