WITNESS PROTECTION 02: The Baby Rescue

by Margaret Daley

  Lisette looked at the western sky with streaks of pink and orange cutting through the blue. “The sun is going down.”

  The sheriff made a call and asked one of his deputies to drive this way. “Yes, and if you think this is cold, wait till it gets dark.”

  Boomer disappeared around the bend in the road. A few seconds later, barking echoed through the quiet. Colton set out in a jog with Lisette, passing the sheriff. Her hand went to her holster at her waist at the same time Colton clasped the handle of his gun.

  Rounding the curve, she spied Al kneeling by a body in the snow while the sound of sirens filled the air.

  The sheriff came up behind them. “Thankfully our dispatcher called an ambulance earlier.”

  Al peered over his shoulder. “He’s breathing but unresponsive. It looks like he was dumped and rolled to here.” The dog handler rose and gestured at the snow nearby.

  “So it’s possible a woman may be with the driver of the white car and there were two people and a baby in the car,” Colton said to the sheriff, noting that the unconscious man wasn’t Saunders.

  At that moment Colton’s cell phone rang. He looked at the caller screen and answered. “We found the man we think picked up whoever was in the white Chevy. He was left unconscious by the roadside. Were you able to locate Hannah?”

  As Colton listened, a frown deepened the lines on his face. By the time he hung up, he was scowling. “Hannah can’t be found. She took today off from work. Her car is in the driveway of her duplex, but she isn’t at home. My boss is leaving someone at her place. He’ll let me know when she comes back home.”

  The ambulance pulled up, and two paramedics began tending to the man who appeared to be about seventy. The deputy parked behind where Lisette and Colton watched them work on the victim.

  In the midst of the activity, the sheriff received another call, then strode to them. “Benjamin Mason reported someone stole his car. He lives four miles south of this location.”

  Colton swung his gaze to her. “We’ll need to check this out. Until this man wakes up, we won’t know what happened.”

  Lisette shook her head. “I feel like we’re in a three-ring circus with the clowns running it.”

  “It does seem like Saunders is having fun leading us on a wild-goose chase.” Colton turned back to the sheriff. “Do you know who the victim is?”

  “Nope. Not from around here, but the paramedics gave me his billfold. The man is Keith Olson from Boulder. I’ll run his driver’s license and see what kind of car he was driving, then put an alert out on it.”

  “Good. Agent Sutton and I will check out the stolen car while you coordinate the search for this man’s car. I’ll call you with what we find.”

  * * *

  Darkness blanketed the landscape as Colton and Lisette approached a farmhouse where the owner reported his car stolen. No lights were on in the house.

  Colton switched off the engine but left his headlights on since only a half-moon illuminated the area. “We’re being given the runaround. We didn’t see any abandoned cars on the way here. No sign of the Cougar.” While driving to the ranch, the sheriff had called to let them know Keith Olson drove a Cougar. “So why would Saunders steal another vehicle if nothing was wrong with the one he was driving?”

  “Good question. Maybe he realized the other car could be identified. But with Saunders, who knows.”

  “You know, I’ve got a feeling he’s setting us up.”

  “A trap? I can see that.”

  “But we still need to check this out. There could be someone else hurt inside.”

  “I’ll go around the house while you knock on the front door. Maybe there’s a light on in the back, but we can’t see it from the drive.”

  The hairs on his nape stood up. He didn’t have a good feeling about this. Saunders didn’t care who was in his way. The man unconscious at the side road was at least seventy years old. Colton climbed out of the Jeep and removed his gun from its holster. “Circle the house, then come back to the porch.”

  He couldn’t see a bell, so he swung the screen door open and knocked. The loud noise sounded, alerting anyone close by, but he wanted to make sure the owner heard him because what he was going to do next wasn’t by the book. He didn’t want to take a chance in case the owner was hurt―because why wouldn’t he be here if he called 9-1-1 for help? His gut twisted with all the possibilities running through his mind.

  He hated this feeling of walking into a trap but having no choice. He tried the door but it was locked. He knelt and picked the lock, using his penlight to illuminate the area. Adrenaline pumped through his body, every sense alert. With his weapon in his hand, he eased the door open. Inside, a light glowed from the rear of the house.

  Behind him, Lisette entered. “Someone is on the floor in the kitchen.”

  Colton pulled the string on the lamp nearby. “I’ll take that part of the house while you check the other.” He waved to the right and began moving that way toward the kitchen.

  As he made his way through the living room and dining room, he shouted, “Clear.”

  Lisette did the same.

  In the kitchen, Colton knelt next to the man on the floor, blood on the back of his head, and felt his pulse at his neck.

  “Is he alive?” Lisette asked behind him.

  “No. He’s been hit,” he said, surveying the area, “probably by that.” He indicated a meat tenderizer lying on the floor a few feet from the victim.

  Colton rose. “He called 9-1-1 about his car being stolen, and then he was hit? What is going on here?” He shook his head. “I’m calling this in, then we need to check the barn. I don’t see a garage so maybe he kept his vehicle in the barn.”

  He placed a call to the sheriff and told him what happened.

  “Benjamin Mason was a grumpy old man, but I don’t know anyone who had a beef with him. He has a brand-new red Ford 150. He was so proud of that truck. He didn’t even have a license plate for it yet.” The sheriff’s heavy sigh sounded through the connection. “I’ll get an alert out for the truck.”

  “There’s no sign of Keith Olson’s Cougar, but we’ll take a look in the barn.”

  “I’ll have a couple of deputies there ASAP. We’ll concentrate our search around there. See if anyone has seen the truck. It seems like the person you’re after is going south toward Denver so I’ll let the police there know.”

  Something nagged Colton. He hung up and started for the front door. “Let’s check the barn. The snow should give us an indication of what happened. I’m getting some flashlights from the Jeep.”

  “If I was running from the police, I wouldn’t be leaving a trail for them to follow.” Lisette walked beside him to the car.

  “I wouldn’t, either.” He kneaded his nape. “Something else is going on here.”

  “A diversion?”

  “Maybe. I wish we had more man power, but some of it is needed other places.”

  “Which Saunders may be using to his advantage.”

  Colton handed a heavy-duty flashlight to Lisette, then trudged through the foot-deep snow toward the barn on the left side of the house about a hundred yards away. Sweeping his light over the area in front of him, he frowned. “Lots of footprints. Different sizes and types of shoes. Here’s one that is made by cowboy boots. This one is a sneaker and over there a boot. We have no idea which ones are the old man’s.”

  “He had on house slippers in the kitchen so that doesn’t help. We can check his closet later.”

  “No fresh tire tracks. Interesting.”

  Fifty feet from the barn, the double doors busted open and a red truck barreled straight for them. The headlights blinded Colton. He lifted his gun, started to shoot, but stopped when he thought of Baby C possibly in the vehicle. Diving out of the way at the last second, he twisted at the same time and got a glimpse of the driver and the shadow of a person in the passenger’s seat. The engine revved as the Ford sped away, its rear swinging from side to side.


  Colton popped up off the ground. “Lisette, are you okay?” he asked as he aimed and squeezed off a shot, the bullet hitting the ground near the back tire.

  “What if that’s Saunders, and Baby C is in there?”

  He slanted a look toward her while picking up the flashlight he’d dropped. “I want to let them know I’m serious, but I didn’t shoot close on purpose. Saunders isn’t driving. Something else is happening here.”

  Wincing, she rose slowly.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  Lisette rubbed her left arm. “Yes, I just fell wrong. I’ll be able to shake it off. Let’s go after whoever they are.”

  Colton jogged toward his Jeep, and as he started the car, Lisette hopped into the passenger seat. He threw the rental into four-wheel drive and charged down the road after the driver in the truck. Bouncing over ruts, he gripped the steering wheel as tight as he could. He took the turn onto the highway, pressing down on the gas as much as he could afford. The back of the Jeep fishtailed, but he righted it and pursued the stolen vehicle.

  “Sheriff, this is Agent Sutton. We’re following a red Ford 150 south on the highway from Mason’s ranch. There are two people in the cab of the truck. Our speed is nearing sixty miles an hour.” Lisette paused, as though listening. “Yes. I appreciate that.”

  Colton tossed her a glance, then quickly returned his full attention to the chase. When she disconnected the call, he asked, “What’s he doing?”

  “Setting up a roadblock. They should have one in place another ten miles or so. He said there are no highway turnoffs.”

  “Good. Maybe we’ll catch these two.”

  “Are they part of Saunders’s gang?”

  “Maybe. Either way I won’t let these guys get away. They killed an old man for a truck.”

  “With all that Saunders has done lately, this doesn’t feel right. The man I got to know would be long gone the first chance he got. It’s possible Saunders wasn’t in the white car when it went off the road, but he’s behind this. If we catch these guys, we might find out something to help us.”

  Colton kept right up with the truck, determined to drive them toward the roadblock. Just a few more miles and they would have the suspects. “I’m beginning to think it was a total setup from the start. Why set a getaway car on fire? Yes, I know it can cover up fingerprints and other evidence, but the car was in plain view from the road.”

  He pressed down on the accelerator, increasing his speed ten more miles an hour to keep pace with the truck in front of him, but with the snow-packed pavement anything could send his car off the road. Lord, I need You to keep us safe. I have to find Baby C and Saunders and bring him to justice.

  Through the darkness of night Colton spied the headlights of the vehicles used in the roadblock. “I hope these guys don’t try to run it.”

  Suddenly at the last second, the driver in the truck swerved to the right, going off-road into a field. Colton followed. The Ford 150 hit a snowbank and came to a stop. The doors to the truck opened, and two figures piled out of it into the cold night.

  “The snow is too deep to drive any farther. We’ll have to chase them on foot.” Colton stopped, noticing behind him more police cars were coming out into the pasture.

  Lisette drew her gun and climbed from the Jeep at the same time Colton did. “The good news is they’ll have to plow through the snow first. We just have to follow them. Less work.”

  “My body thanks them for that.” Colton joined her on the passenger’s side nearer to the truck.

  Moving as fast as he could, Colton reached the Ford 150 and found their trail. In the glow from the headlights, he zeroed in on the two suspects trudging through foot-high snow toward the tree line. Only yards away.

  “U.S. Marshal. Stop or I’ll fire,” Colton yelled.

  The pair kept going. Colton raised his gun and fired into the ground near him. The suspects fell, trying to bury themselves in the snow.

  “I’m glad they didn’t know I wouldn’t shoot them unless armed, and I don’t see a gun,” Colton said, hurrying toward the two on the ground, now cowering at his approach.

  He removed his handcuffs and locked them around one assailant’s wrist while Lisette took care of the other, then he rolled over his man—probably in his early twenties.

  “This one can’t be over eighteen,” Lisette said as she yanked on him to stand.

  “I’m twenty, lady.” The one with blond hair scowled at Lisette.

  “Who are you?”

  His eyes narrowed, and he clamped his mouth shut.

  Lisette patted him down and found his wallet. Flipping it open, she found his driver’s license. “Jordan Jones, you’re in a lot of trouble.” She tugged on his arm and started for the sheriff’s four-wheel-drive SUV.

  Colton towered over his assailant—on the small side but with piercing hard eyes aimed at Colton. He reached down and took hold of the guy and hauled him to his feet, then checked him for any weapons and his ID. When he pulled the young man’s wallet from his back pocket, he started toward the sheriff. “You may not see the light of day for a long time for what you did today. Robbery, assault and murder, not to mention endangering police officers, me for one, with your reckless driving.”

  “Murder? I ain’t kilt nobody. That old man by the road was alive when we left him.”

  * * *

  Lisette sat across from twenty-five-year-old Harrison Giles, his expression frozen in a scowl since the deputy had brought him into the interrogation room five minutes ago. “This is your opportunity to make a deal. Your crimes are serious. You may think it was fun driving all over the county joyriding, but you tossed an old man out of his car when he’d stopped to help you. Keith Olson is in the hospital and is conscious. He’s identified you and your friend out of a photo array.”

  “He was a fool to stop like that.” Harrison studied his fingernails.

  “From what the deputy at the hospital told me, you two made it nearly impossible for him to do anything else. You took a risk lying down on the road.”

  Harrison shrugged. “Life’s a risk.”

  “I’m glad you think that.” Lisette ground her teeth to calm herself before proceeding with the interview. Losing control wouldn’t help her. She bottled up her anger and contempt and narrowed her gaze on Harrison. “Then you and your buddy murdered Benjamin Mason and stole his truck. We have you fleeing the scene of the crime.”

  “Who? Don’t know him? We took a truck, but we ain’t kilt this guy, and ya can’t frame us for it.”

  “My partner is talking with your buddy. The first one to talk will get a deal. If you want to play it that way, then you’ll be going away for life. Good thing you like to take risks. Prison will be a continuous risk. You should enjoy that.” Lisette scooted her chair back, surged to her feet and opened the door. “Deputy, he’s ready to go back to his cell.”

  “Wait!” Harrison’s voice held a touch of panic.

  She pivoted in the entrance, her arms crossed over her chest.

  “I’m tellin’ the truth. I ain’t a murderer.”

  “That isn’t good enough. The evidence says you are.”

  Fear leaked into the man’s face. “What evidence? I never saw this guy at the ranch.”

  “When you decide to tell the truth, I’ll listen.”

  She started down the hallway toward the sheriff’s office with Harrison yelling, “I ain’t a murderer.” Glancing back at the deputy at the door, she said, “Let him cool off in his cell. Get a taste of what prison will be like.” Then she slipped into the room where the interviews were being taped to see what Colton was finding out from Jordan Jones, the blond-headed partner.

  Wide-eyed, Jordan stared at Colton. “I’m not lying. I didn’t kill anybody.”

  “Benjamin Mason called the police and reported someone stole his truck. When my partner and I came to investigate, we found him dead in the kitchen. He’d been hit over the head, but I don’t know if that was the cause of death. The autops
y will be able to tell us that.” Colton slid a photo of the crime scene across the table.

  Jordan’s face went pale, his hands shaking so much he clasped them together on the table. “We never saw him. We were told about the new truck.”

  Lisette sat up straight in her chair. We were told? Both she and Colton had thought there was something fishy about what had happened after the sniper drove off in the white Chevy.

  “What do you mean? Told by who?” Colton asked, drawing her attention to the monitor.

  “That lady who paid us.”

  “What lady?” Lisette said out loud, itching to be in the room with Colton.

  “Paid you to do what?” Colton leaned across the table.

  Lisette couldn’t see his expression, but from the sound of his voice it had to be intense.

  “I don’t know her name but she gave us two hundred dollars to stop a car on the road, take it and then go to the ranch. She told us there was a brand-new Ford 150 in the barn. We were to steal it, and if we wanted to sell it after we did, she’d tell us where to take it. She told us to drive around until then. We would get to keep the cash from the sale, plus a thousand dollars more.” The explanation flowed rapidly from Jordan as he twisted his hands together.

  “Where’s the Cougar you stole first?”

  “There’s a turnoff before getting to the ranch house. We hid it in the trees.”

  “Who were you going to sell the truck to?”

  “Don’t know. She was going to call us this evening by eight.”

  “How?”

  “On Harrison’s cell.”

  Colton glanced at his watch. “She’s late. It’s after nine.”

  Tears filled Jordan’s eyes. “It was supposed to be fun. Easy cash.”

  “Can you describe her?”

  Jordan shook his head. “Never saw her. Harrison made the arrangements with her.”

  Colton rose and walked toward the door.

  “Where are you going?” Jordan yanked at the handcuffs around his wrists. “What am I supposed to do?”

  “Stay and think about what you did. The man you left at the side of the road has a severe concussion.”